Mary E. Robinson - The shrine of Bertha - Sheffield Hallam ...

BELSER WISSENSCHAFTLICHER DIENST

Mary E. Robinson

The shrine of Bertha 2.ed. vol.1.2. London : Print. for the author, 1796

reference no. S45174

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Publisher’s note English Language Women’s Literature of 18th & 19th Centuries

356 women writers 958 titles / 3,000 historic books with 830,800 full text pages For the ROMANTIC PERIOD our collections of English Language Literature of the 18th & 19th Centuries (women authors / male authors / anonymous titles) contain approx. 90% of the British Prose Forms. We are the World's leading principal repository of English Language Novels (first editions) for the Romantic Period with even more first editions than the British Library. This ebook is part of this comprehensive collection of English Language Women's Literature. The ebook was carefully republished from an old book of the 18th or 19th Century. So please do take into consideration, that the quality of the historic book is the primary source for this ebook and it may occur that in the text are bleed throughs, blotches, ink spots, ink marks, type-setting mistakes or hand writings. Even missing pages may occur or the paper quality of the old book might be poor (bridled paper) or the binding was in bad condition and in some cases, there were multifunctional reasons. The pages in front of your eyes are an exact reproduction of the original double pages of the old book and appear in the same font, layout and type-setting as in the old book. The text of this old book are reproduced in digitally enhanced facsimile pages, with full text searchable functions in the historic text and layouts. Each ebook has bookmarks with links related to the historic text. This kind of reproduction bring users closer to the original old book with its great variety in typesetting, characters, drawings, images etc. than text-only products which were retyped. With this ebook you do have increased access to the content. Features in the software provide tools to help locate specific parts of information in the content, i.e. you will find bookmarks with links to the historic table of content, if available in the old book. You may find useful bookmarks with links to specific areas in the texts as chapters or tales or stories. As you can see this ebook comes with Acrobat Reader (trademark of Adobe Systems Inc.) and you will find the features of that software on the top of your computer-screen. That means also no additional hardware, software or investment is required. Quite a huge number of titles are novels. Scholars in the late 18th & early 19th Centuries disliked novels. However the Romantic Period is the first great age of the popular English Novel, this is the time period after Richardson and before Charles Dickens. And at this time Jane Austen wasn’t as famous as she is now.


People often forget that in 18th & 19th Centuries women's thoughts on various issues were disguised in literature and their 'voices' did not appear widely elsewhere. Many women wrote under a pseudonym or anonymously i.e. including Ann Radcliffe, over 2,300 titles in our collections are anonymous, offering the tempting challenge of determining unknown identities and authorship. As the major 18th & 19th Century libraries tended not to collect such books, some of our titles are even unique copies. If you want to know more about that matter, please let us know your questions. Our collections have been compiled in consultation with scholars and the text of this ebook was identified as a Novel. Usually our collections of Women's Literature do not include 'classical' well-known works belonging to the 18th & 19th Centuries, but rather works which enjoyed popular circulation in their own period. While Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice - novels of Jane Austen - are deliberately excluded, as being readily available in other forms, what remains is far from a residue or assortment of imitations. On the contrary, readers are likely to be impressed and surprised by the remarkable diversity of authors and titles that is on view. Some research results Before we introduced our collection of English Language Women's Literature of the 18th & 19th Centuries, Dale Spender’s Standard-Bibliography Mothers of the Novel listed altogether 106 English Language women writers for that time period, we have in fact 356, some names you will find listed below. Effective February 8, 2002, Brown University, RI, USA, mentioned on their Website for the years of publication 1776 – Victorian Period that they have 62 titles of English Language Women's Literature, in our collection we have 958 titles for this time. Sheffield Hallam University (UK) mentioned in one of their publications, that our collection with English Language Titles ...is more comprehensive than the British Library. Recently in World Cat scholars checked one of our titles, Count Roderick’s castle and it is interesting to note that in the USA only 12 other copies of five editions have been reported. All copies were located in libraries in the East of the United States, in Massachusetts, New York, North Carolina, Virginia, New Jersey, Maryland and Rhode Island. This search and result adds support to the evidence that libraries just did not collect this type of literature, which is now available in this ebook. Offer to you, our reader The old book is a primary source material, republished as an ebook. At this time regarding the content of this ebook there is no brief summary available. If you would like to write a summary of the content of this ebook, we would be pleased to receive your proposal and maybe we could proceed.


How to use this ebook This ebook (and all the other titles in the collection) supports women studies programs, studies and researches in social history and cultural studies. So why not to discover these women’s 'voices' in our ebooks and literature collections, or identify texts from anonymous writers centuries ago. We do hope you will enjoy this ebook and its tools, which of course, were not possible with the old books or periodicals, originally published 200 years ago. Examples with names of female writers and quantities of titles / full text pages in the following genres including name of female writers in each segment: To a brief overview please see below the quantities in some segments. Of course we can also provide other compilations / segments as authors and titles, places of publication, titles of the famous Minerva Press, years of publication, time periods or subject headings like Ireland related Fictions or Gothic Novels. Catalogues of the segments are available for purchase separately for librarians or researchers who wish to evaluate a particular set. Availability and prices for these catalogues vary within the different sets, please ask for availability and prices. Quantities of authors, titles, full text pages and media are subject to change without prior notice. SHORT STORIES & SHORT PROSE FORMS of the 18th & 19th Centuries 35 women writers 38 titles with 32,150 full text pages Catalogue of this segment is available for purchase separately DRAMAS of the 18th & 19th Centuries 14 women writers 18 titles with 15,230 full text pages Catalogue of this segment is available for purchase separately POETRY of the 18th & 19th Centuries 41 women writers 52 titles with 43,990 full text pages Catalogue of this segment is available for purchase separately ANTHOLOGIES of the 18th & 19th Centuries 14 women writers 15 titles with 12,690 full text pages Catalogue of this segment is available for purchase separately MISCELLANEOUS titles of the 18th & 19th Centuries 9 women writers 11 titles 9,310 full text pages Catalogue of this segment is available for purchase separately


NOVELS Enlightenment (originally published in the years through 1799) Some examples of women writers – other female writers apply (total 52 writers) -

we have available 96 titles with approx. 83,000 full text pages Bonhote, Elizabeth Fenwick, Eliza FitzJohn, Matilda Howell, Ann Hughes, Anne Hunter, Maria Inchbald, Elizabeth Lansdell, Sarah LaRoche, Sophie von Lee, Harriet Lennox, Charlotte Lewis, Alethea Lowndes, Hannah M. Mackenzie, Anna Maria Meeke, Mary Musgrave, Agnes O'Keeffe, Adelaide Parsons, Eliza Patrick, Mrs. F. C. Peacock, Lucy Pilkington, Mary Plumphe, Anne Plumptre, Annabella Porter, Anna Maria Purbeck, Jane Radcliffe, Ann Reeve, Clara Robinson, Mary Robinson, Mary Elizabeth Roche, Regina Maria Rowson, Susanna Selden, Catharine Sherwood, Mary M. Smith, Charlotte Tomlins, Eliza S. Ventum, Harriet Villa-Real Gooch, Elizabeth S. West, Jane Young, Mary Julia NOVELS Victorian Period (originally published in the years 1831-1900) 47 women writers 64 titles with 54,150 full text pages Catalogue of this segment is available for purchase separately


NOVELS Romantic Period (originally published in the years1800-1830) Catalogue of this segment is available for purchase separately

From the following women writers we do have available 664 titles with approx. 580,000 full text pages

Appleton, Elizabeth Argus, Arabella Austen, Jane Barber, Agnes Anne Barber, Elizabeth Beauclerc, Amelia Benger, Elizabeth O. Bennett, Agnes Anne Bennett, Agnes M. Bennett, Anna Maria Benson, Maria Berkenhout, Helena Best, Eliza Best, Jane Blackford, Martha Bottens, Jeanne T. Bouverie, Sophia Bowdler, Henrietta M. Bray, Anna E. Breton, Marianne Bristow, Amelia Bromley, Eliza Nugent Brooke, Charlotte Brooke, Frances Brown, Elizabeth C. Brunton, Mary Bunbury, Selina Burke, Mrs. Burney, Caroline Burney, Frances Burney, Sarah Harriet Bury, Charlotte Butler, Harriet Byron, Medora G. Cadell, Cecilia M. Calderon de la Barca, Frances E. Campbell, Dorothea P. Campbell, Margaret Carey, Joanna Cavendish-Bradshaw, Mary A. Charlton, Mary Charrière, Isabelle Agnès Elisabeth de Cheney, Harriet V. Clark, Emily Clarke, Elizabeth

Clifford, Frances Colpoys, Mrs. Corbett, Marion and Margaret Cordova, Cordelia Corp, Harriet Cottin, Sophie Craik, Helen Croffts, Mrs. Croker, Margaret S. Crumpe, Miss M. G. T. Cullen, Margaret Cuthbertson, Catherine D'Aubigne, Frances Dacre, Charlotte Damer, Anne S. Davenport, Selina DeLisle, Emma Dennis, Thomasine Derenzy, Margaret G. DesStraella, Leonora Doherty, Ann Dufour, Camilla Eaton, Charlotte A. Edgeworth, Maria Edrige, Rebecca Elson, Jane Ennis, Alicia Margaret Ferrier, Susan Edmonstone Foster, Mrs. E. M. Francis, Sophia L. Fuller, Anne Goldsmith, Mary Gore, Catherine G. Grant, Anne Green, Sarah Grey, Elizabeth C. Griffith, Sophia Gunning, Elizabeth Gunning, Susannah Hale, Sarah J. Hamilton, Ann Maria Hamilton, Elizabeth Hanway, Mary A. Harding, Anne Raikes Harris, Catherine


Harvey, Jane Harwood, Caroline Hatton, Anne Hawkins, Laetitia M. Haynes, Miss C. D. Head, Catharine Hedge, Mary A. Helme, Elizabeth Hervey, Elizabeth Hill, Isabel Hill, Mary Hirst, Augusta A. Hofland, Barbara Holcroft, Fanny Holford, Margaret Holsten, Esther Homely, Martha Hook, Sarah A. Hoole, Innes Horwood, Caroline Houghton, Mary Hudson, Marianne S. Humdrum, ... Hunter, Rachel Hutton, Catherine Isaacs, Mrs. Jameson, Anna B. Johnston, Mary Jones, Hannah M. Jones, Harriet Kelly, Isabella Kelly, Mrs. Kelty, Mary A. Kennedy, Grace Ker, Anne King, Sophia Lachlan, Elizabeth Lake, Eliza Lamb, Caroline Lancaster, Agnes Layton, Jemima Lee, Sophia Lefanu, Alicia Lefanu, Elizabeth LeNoir, Elizabeth A. Lester, Elizabeth B. Lewis, Alethea Lewis, Mary G. Lewis, Miss M. G. Logan, Eliza

Loudon, Jane C. Loudon, Margracia Loundon, Jane C. Mac Nally, Louisa MacGennis, Alicia Mackenzie, Anna Maria Mackenzie, Mary J. MacTaggert, Ann Malden, Miriam Manners, Catherine Marcet, Jane Maxwell, Caroline Meeke, Mary Memes, Mrs. John Smythe Millikin, Anna Mills, Frances Mary Mitford, Mary R. Montalbion, Kate Moore, Frances Moore, Hannah W. More, Hannah More, Olivia Moreland, Olivia Morgan, Lady Sydney [née Owenson, Sydney] Moriarty, Henrietta M. Mosse, Henrietta Rouviere Musgrave, Agnes Nathan, Eliza Naubert, Benedikte Neri, Mary Anne Nooth, Charlotte Novello, Mary S. O'Keeffe, Adelaide Oakes, Susanna Opie, Amelia A. Ormsby, Anne Palmer, Alicia T. Pardoe, Julia Parker, Emma Parker, Mary E. Parsons, Eliza Pascoe, Charlotte C. Peck, Frances Pickar, Mary Pickering, Ellen Pigott, Harriet Pilkington, Mary Pinchard, Elizabeth Plumptre, Annabella


Polack, Maria Porter, Anna Maria Porter, Anna Maria and Jane Porter, Jane Potter, Matilda Princeps, Elizabeth L. Purbeck, Jane Purcell, Mrs. Putney, Charlotte Radcliffe, Ann Radcliffe, Mary Anne Ratcliffe, Eliza Reeve, Clara Reeve, Sophia Renou, Sarah Rhodes, Henrietta Rice, Mrs. Richardson, Charlotte C. Richardson, Sarah Riversdale, Louisa Roberts, Margaret Robertson, Eliza F. Robinson, Mary Roche, Regina Maria Rolfe, Ann Ryley, Ann Saint Clair, Rosalia Saint Victor, Helen Saint-Venant, Cathérine F. de Sandham, Elizabeth Sarrett, H. J. Scott, Caroline Scott, Caroline Lucy Scott, Honoria Sedgwick, Catharine M. Sedgwick, Catharine Maria Selden, Catharine Shelley, Mary W. Sheridan, Caroline H. Sheriffe, Sarah Sherwood, Mary M. Sinclair, Caroline Sleath, Eleanor Smith, Catherine Smith, Charlotte Smith, Charlotte Smith, Charlotte Turner Smith, Julia Smith, Maria Lavinia Smyth, Amelia G.

Spence, Elizabeth I. Stael-Holstein, Anne L. de Stanhope, Louisa S. Stanhope, Louisa Sidney Stephens, Nella Stepney, Catherine Sterndale, Mary Stevens, Grace Buchanan Stoddart, Lady Isabella Wellwood Strutt, Elizabeth Strutt, Elizabeth (formerly Byron) Stuart, Augusta A. Sullivan, Mary Ann Taylor, Ann Taylor, Eliza Taylor, Sarah Tharmott, Maria Thayer, Caroline M. Thomas, Elizabeth Tonna, Charlotte Elizabeth Trelawney, Anne Tuck, Mary Turner, Margaret Ventum, Harriet Villa-Real Gooch, Elizabeth S. Ward, Catherine G. Weeks, Harriett W. Wells, Helena Wentworth, Zara West, Jane Wigley, Sarah Wilkinson, Sarah Wingrove, Ann Woodfall, Sophia Woodrooffe, Anne Wright, Elizabeth Yorke, Mrs. R. P. M. Young, Henrietta M. Young, Mary Julia Ziegenhirt, Sophia F.

SHRINE OF BERTHA.

A NOVEL,

I HE

SHRINE OF BERTHA.

A NOVEL.

Iff Tlf'O VOLUMES.

BY MISS ROBINSON.

VOL. 1.

SECOND EDITION.

LONDON:

Printed for the A U T H O R , by G. CAW T H O R N ,B R I T I S H L I B R A R Y , S T R A N D ,

4796.

TO HER,

WHOM 1 AM PROUD TO ACKNOWLEDGE

, s

IHL BFST OF MOTHERS,

r i f t v o t t U E S

Of THE $HR1Ê OF SERlnJ,

A R E I N S C R I B E D ,

BY

V\ I FH E\ ERY SFNTIMEXT OF GRATITUDEAND Al-tLCTIUiN,

MARIA EL1ZAKEIU R081XSON.

No. 14, St Jameb's-PlacCjMarch uth, 1796.

n

t

SHRlNE OF - - BERTHA. -s

LETTER I.

. EDWARD PERCIVAL,

TO SIR FRANCIS COLVILLE.

D w u , Feb. 879-0

CONGRATULATE me, my dear Colville, up11 m y escapc from maternal autho- rity, and the venerable walls of Brrrzcn Kose Collcge! 66 Where ever musing riielancholy reigns ; ” where a few musty folios in the dead languages were niy most lively companions, and an - old rusty commoner’s gown and tren- cher cap the onIy insignia of eru- dition! I am ashanicd when I rccol- lea how long I have been a state prisoner, to gratify the whimsicalities of my Manima 1 Thank Heaven, 13m at length about to quit this antiquated

Vol. I . B subjett,

6

6 SHRINE OF BERTHA.

subjefl, with the musty delights of Virgil and Tacitus, for the joys of a midilight serenade, and an Italian Opera.

*

rr Oh, ye enchanting shores of Italy !

ye are worthy of him ye are about to receive. Believe me, I shall experience much pleastire, when I behold, far 06 this Isle of dullness and formality ; this nursery of folly ; this sepulchre .of genius !

'I

a dear account, for I should soon be tired of giving you credit.

BltRINE OF BERTIIA.

<Farewell,

Fa i t h f u I 1 y y o LI PS ,

EDWARD PERCIVAL.

I shaII write to you on my arrivaI a t any place worth mentioning ; and give you an account of any adventures that may befrill your modern Quixote, out .of charity, to enliven the ponderous imaginations of our pedantic companions.

,

You are a most ungrateful fellow for negleAing to answer my letter from London. Remember we are to keep

a dear B 2 LETTER

m- -

9

nlistaken father, be indebted for a temporary asylum.

SHRINE OF BERTHA;

3 SEIRIME OF BERTHA.

LETTER XI.

SOPHIA CLEVELAND,

TO LAURA FITZ OWEN. . Gvor we nor- Sirecr.

Do not triunaph, my dearest Laura, when I confess how siricerely I already lament having quitted our Convent, contrary to your persuasion, merely to indulge a childish curiosity to be acquainted with the WORLD : under the proteCtion -of such a being as Lady Cavil !-What a mournful state of perpetual degradation nirist be that of an humble dependant upon the caprices ofsuch a woman; since to me, whoni she is pIeased to distinguish by the title of Friend, her manners are as harsh and subduing, as the bleak Northern blasts, which howl over her native mountains. Yet to Lady Cavil must I, in compliance with the will of niy

in is t a ken -

\Vith the supposed advantage of be. ing allied to nobility, and possessing a tolerable share of national effrontery, Lady Cavil has talked herself into some degree of notoriety. She appears to have imbibed every fashionable folly to its fullest extent, without being gifted wi th sufficient understanding to enjoy them with discretion. She has an attentive ear for a tale of slan- der, which is, I beIieve, the only femi- nine propensity she possesses, and a heart most conveniently formed for resisting the supplications of the *

w.re t ch ed.

1 cannot fortiear@irig you a trifling anecdote of this very extraordinary being.

B3. Yes t e r d ay

.10 Stn\ZNE OF BERTHA,

. Yesterday morning We were tempted by the clearness of the weather, to stroll as far as Kensingtor1 Gardens.- We had scarcely proceeded twenty steps, when our attention was arrested by a very decently dressed woman, with 8 little boy, whom she 14, and another whom she carried in her arms. The youngest child s k i e d to be in a rapid decline. The unhappy mother, whose appearance bespoke her to have been faded from what c c Her faithless fortune promised once,” after making a IOW and respe&ful curtsey, passed us, and was pmceeding on her nielancholy way, when lrer eldest boy enqtzired eagerly ; cc Will i t be long, mother, before we reach our friends ?” I could plainly perceive, under her tattered bonnet, cc The modest virtues mingling in her eyes,” while she softly answered, c c I fear it-will, my love.”--- Oh ! what a world of niournful prcsen- lritnenf was comprised in those few

words!

’/ SHRINE OF, BERm-4. 11

words!---Yet, certain I am, that th i s forlorn being would have proceeded wholly triinoticed by m y charitable companion, had she not accidentally spoken in a dial& which prmlainied her of her own nation. When Lady Cavil, eager to evince her pretended generosity, enquired her name ; and upon being informed, she rudely ccn- tradiAed her, adding, c c T h a t she could not possibly be conie of that Clatz, for that her brother-in-law had

they were aI1 noble from the reign of Fergus the First, King of Scotland !” T h u s oppressed, and insolently con- tradiaed by a wonian of Lady Cavil’s terror-striking appearance, the unfortunate mourner was silent. My corn- panioii continued. ‘( As to your gre- tending to belong to the -’s, I don’t believe one syllable of the stcry you have been telling. A man of noble family has only to ~ X F Y a Mix-,

I beIieve

married one of the Mac -’ s, and

re SHRINE OF BERTRh

I believe that the whole Kingdom of Caledonia \ t i l l swear they are des- cended f1~oii.1: the same clan.” This irladverten t confession drew a loud laugh frorii the numerous throng, which her discordant tones had drawn together. Lady Cavil proceeded .--- ~a However, if any body is inclined to nlake up a*siiiall sum, I have no objec- tion to add something towards it, though I am convinced it is throwing nmey away.” I obscrved a stranger present something to the distressed and confused unfortunate ; every hand wasnow employed in. the service of benevotence, every eye in that of sympathy, except Lady Cavii’s, which seemed fixed in a stare of unfceling curiosity, without the Ieast inclination to relieve the distrese she was so inqui- sitivc to discover. Thus, aftcr having read a long IeAure on the folly of charitable donations, she returned her unopened purse into her pocket, add-

ing

6

SHRIRE OF BERTHA. 13

jilg, cc N o w that we have SO hand- soniely relieved your misfortunes, I advise you to go and procure aonie food for your infant Uqolino there, before he expires.” With this kind and delicate adnioni tion, she retired, followed by the smiles and sneers of the throng, amidst which I could dis- tinAly hear---“ That’s the famous Lady Cavil ; shess niad-.-It runs in the family t’ and an hundred remarks of the same nature.

I am very much indisposed, yet I am engaged every night for this fortnight to come, to visit I know not whoni, and pay my customary dntoirs of sickening encomium !

Sir Jarnes Cavil is still in Flanders ; and ’tis astonishing to see with what avidity his amiablc wife Iooks over the papcrs for thc list of killed and wounded! He is a worthy nion, and I hope

he

14 OTRINE OF **«TH*. OTRWE OF BEKTHA. U

he wf» return crowned with laurels:for his domestic alarum will rendersome sculagtmnt necessary to counter-aa its perpetual din. Poor dear Sir LETTER IILJames has already lost an eye; happywould it be for him, if he could lose HENRY COURTNEY,his hearing also.—But we must submittn fart..«~ J L L SllomiC T0 EDWARD PERCIVAL.to fortune, and bear her frowns withfortitude. T ,

1 SHOULD have answered your letterThis morning I am to accompany bef°re tllis time' had * n°fc waitcd to

Lady Cavil to sit for her piaure irithe address} on by another name: I amcharaaer of Diana ! I fear the 'painter n°W rca"y S°riy t0 be the mcssen«er

will have some difficulty in pourtrav Ot mclancholy îngs, but I am seri-ing the fair Huntress, and at the same Ously concerned for y°ur imcle> Lord

time preserving the resemblance to the Litchfield—I do not think there areoriginal! But as I am to be one of her ^ SmallC8t hopC8 °f his——dcath " "

. nymphs, I shall draw the veil over tW1°C been §iVen °ver by his

every imperfeaion, and only now as- Physicians, and has both times mira-; ' sure you how much lam, culously recovered, after Lady Litch-

' field had given' minute direaions res-Dear Laura, peaing his funeral; nay, on the last

Sincerely yours, relapse, untoward fate had contrivedthat Mr. Varnish, the Coach-maker,

SOPHIA, CLEVELAND. should enter the hall, with patterns ofLETTER lozenges

W SHRINE OF BERTHA., r *L i • i. * SHRINE OF BERTHA. ITlozenges for the mourning chariot, atthe very instant Dr. —— was pro- get a knock-down blow! for now henouncing the unwelcome intelligence baffles the art 0f physic, by living be.that, ** His Lordship was convales- yond its experiments.cent."

Yours truly,I had begun a very pathetic sermon, HENRY COURTNEY.

which 1 intended to have preached tothe blubbering boors, at our parishchurch in the country; enumeratingvirtues which, for the first time, hewould have been accused of exemplify-ing ! So, you see, ! had my share ofdisappointment also,

Entre nous, he is too much in theway, he should really make room formore worthy objects: many an amiablecharacter would have given up theghost long ago; but this everlastingold Peer and the grisly monarch wres-tle with the skill of Humphries andMendoza. I wish the veteran could

get.TOL. t, C LETTER

IS SHRINI OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA, 19

my attending to what people call placesLETTER IV. of entertainment.

EDWARD PERCIVAL, f am frequently astonished to beholdTO MRS. PERCIVAL. t'ue avidity \fcith which all ranks of per-

sons cro^d to tlv. theatres; %et %oufans, Feb. 175-. .., , , ,, u * i imill scarcely believe me, when I de-

I WRITE to you, my dear and honoured dare, that (notwithstanding my apart-Madam, from a pkce, where a mind, inents are exactly facing the Operaless studious than my own, might find House,) I have never been prevailedsources of infinite amusement; but 0n to quit my beloved Homer, for ;tllimprovement, and not pleasure, is the the raptures that melody can esunv..—objecl of my travels. Little should I I have often been solicited to v'sit thedeserve the indulgence of such a mo- SpeSlades ; and, in all probability, Ither as you are, if I vêre to dedicate might admire them; but, Vadam, Ito dissipation and immorality, a life confers I am ridiculous enough to pre-which should be devoted to mental ac- fer half a dozen old musty volumes, toquirements. the superficial delights 01 modern

amusement. 'Tis true, that the youngI hope, my dear Madam, you do Englishmen, who are here \vasting

not expect me to give descriptions of their precious time in all the splen-the different towns I shall pass through : dours of luxurious folly, turn myfir, indeed, my very constant appli- laudable perseverance through the so-.cation to the language, has prevented ber track of useful knowledge, into,

nay C2 contempt

SHRINE OF BERTHA. SI

20 SHRINE OF BE»THA. the honour of subscribing mysetf, withcontempt, and sarcastically advise me prayers for your health.to become a brother of the GrandChartreuse. Your most affeaionate,

and dutiful son,I fear, my dear Madam, I shall fa-

tigue you with my dull epistles; but EDWARD PERC1VAL-the mind which is absorbed in themazes of literature, naturally acquiresthat dignified solidity, which will everprevent it from straying into the path*of dissipation.

Suffer nie to petition for an answer,directed tome at Lyons, Paste restante;and to hope that your approbation ofmy conduct will complete my happi-ness, and encourage me in those opi-nions, which will prompt me to pur-sue my researches after mental plea-sures i

Adieu, my dear Madam ;— allow meC 3 LETTER

2£ SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 33

luxury, delight, and dissipation, thanin composing Essays on virtue and

LETTER V. philosopy.

EDWARD PERCIVAL, j Qn]y da>%

TO THE REV. HENRY couRTNEY. I have already had ten thousandPans, March, 179-. charming adventures. This is the

j most exhilarating spot in the universe!1 HOPE you will give me credit for hav- Lesfemmes sont tres belles, ct tres com.ing queered the Dowager: as you are plaisantes! Study is banished from myLiseur en ordinaire at Litchfield, the mind ; honest old Homer sleeps afttask of decyphering my letter will de- peace on my dusty shelf; and I a<5tti-volve on you. I desire, right reve- ally suffered my venerable Virgil torend Sir, that you will, "nothing ex- find an inglorious grave, in the jawstenuate, or set down aught in malice!" of a little French barbet, while I wasbut read it, with justice, and give to paying his mispress (an arch lookingevery moralizing syllable its proper Grisctte] for a pair of point ruffles!emphasis.

My mother encloses me a letter,I have sent enough for the good old which I am to deliver to a Miss Fitz

gentlewoman to ponder over, and re. Owen, at Lausanne. I find she is mypeat for these six months to come. Be- cousin ; had she not been a relation, Ilieve me, I can find other means of should have flown upon the wings ofemploying my time in this school of impatience to see her: for after all, the

luxury, sight

^4 SHRINE OP BERTHA.

sight of one beautiful English woman SHRINE OF BERTHA. 2s(and handsome she must be, if relatedto me) is the only remedy to oblite-rate the false impressions of a vitiated LETTER VI.taste; but when I think of a familyparty—" then comes my fit again."— SOPHIA CLEVELAND»My mother writes me word that Miss To LAURA FITZ OWEN.Fitz Owen « is a perfeft beauty." Bitt Omw»r.//r«/. March. 179-.I fear that her ideas of perfection nre> T* - * • ^ j T j, . , . , . pence uon are 1 HOUGH just going to attend Ladynot of this century. She draws her ^ -i <. ™ ™ \ -IT . v •^nn«i.,e;n *• i Wit tw" "ci Cavil to Mrs. Che&ferville s Fencingconclusions from what women were A j T * i f * *.anH n«f » . K O < - < - U , T r * Academy, I steal a few moments toand not what they are i However, as •* * j TfVirÂ «-,rt«4-K, r, MII write to my dear Laura.three months hence wi l l be quite timeenough to visit the shrine of this senti- T u n * i j u iv r* -ôrifa, , , , „ ' i "«^nu- I have of late led such a life of tern.mental recluse, I sha l proceed imme- vi ^ • *• *u * i ndiately to Lyons. bte dlsslPatlon> that l am reallv wom

to a skeleton. Lady Cavil has con-Farewell, tracked such a rage for seeing, and

being seen, that she is wretched, if sheYours truly, ha^ uot an engagement for eve*y night

in the week, and every hour in theEDWARD PERCIVAL. day. Study, of every kind, (save that

of dress) is entirely driven in dis-grace from our temple of fashionable

LETTER indolence. When I am gothic enoughto touch my pianoforte, Lady Cavil ex-

claims,

26 SHRINE O* BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 27

claims, in her discordant dialed-^ eccentric ideaa possess the weak nod-" Well, Sophia, I really begin to des- dies of the fashionable tribe, those whopair of ever making you underst/nd are not really antateurs, must at leastthe manners of a girl of fashion, with „ Assumea virtuc> ifthey haveitnotryour fine ramantic ditties, and yourtedious humdrum lessons. Once more or content themselves with oblivion.I tell you, learn two or three Italian Oblivion! oh! horrible! give me life,canzomttas ; it is no matter how you and let the dull enjoy the bliss of inac-play or pronounce them, because you tivity!"knowi child, 'tis vulgar to articulateat all in singing; or to attend to the pe* Such were the effusions of refine-dantic correctness of composition ; fol- ment! Ruminate on them at your lei«low my advice, and you will soon sure.claim the admiration of the cognoscenti;But while you set down to thrum one I am enthralled in the spells of thisof Haydn's somniferous sonatas, you most detestable woman, and, ('till Iwill be mistaken for some poor tidierJs am of age) patience is my only re-daughter.; whom I patronize under my medy. If I were to quit Lady Cavil, Iroof, ta evince my hospitality, and should have every thing to dread thatadoration of la belU science; though malice and revenge could diclate; foryou are convinced, child, that I don't the shaft of malevolence can sometimesl?r-nva crotchet from a quaver! But penetrate the shield of truth, and touchtheworlddemands asemblanceof every the breast which is a stranger to its in-tasteful predilection ; and while such fluence.

eccentric . . Adieu!

SHRINE OF BERTHA. 2928 SHRINE OF BERTHA.

Adieu 1 If I am not insane or brokenhearted, you shall hear from me again LETTER VII.very soon.

SIR FRANCIS COLVILLE,

O dependance, horrid depend- TO EDWARD PERCIVAL.9nce; how 3r£ thou fraught with mor- Lcndon> Marcb I79..tifications!—but thy antidote is con- MY DEAR EDWARD,tempt for those who inliidt thy mise- QN niv arrivai jn town, a few daysries. Once more, since, I found a card from Mrs. Per-

cival, for a masquerade \\ hich she gives,.Dearest Lstirai I understand, in celebration of the day,

. - which, just one and twenty years ago,Your's most affectionately, gavc yQU to a(jorn the ôr]d , Don,fc

SOPHIA CLEVELAND. be ^g1^ • ^hen l confess, that I felt atthe moment a glow of indignation flush-ing over my cheek, at the remembranceof your cruel and unjust banishmentfrom this country, while your mother,under the pretext of reserving yourfortune with interest, lavishes it awayin the indulgence of every species ofshameless dissipation ; but, as com-merits are generally deemed unuel-

VOL. i, D come,LETTER

3O SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 31

come, and impertinent, I shall leave double entendre* at the expence of athis painful subjecl, and proceed to group of matronly misses in masque-give you an account of the gala. rade; but come along I will introduce

you to her." We then entered theAfter debating with myself for a card room together, and while I was

considerable time, whether I should making my bow to the " Honourablerefuse, or partake of the festivities of Lady of the House," I saw advancingCavendish-square, I at length resolved towards us a mask in the character,to go, merely to indulge my favourite or rather in the habit, of Diana. Shepursuit after odd characters; and, instantly seized Courtney by the arm,throwing on a domino, I directed my and staring me, even me, out ofcourse towards the temple of fashion, countenance, said, in a half whisper,folly, and faro. «« Courtney, who is that ? is he young.?

is he handsome ? is he rich ? tell me,I had scarcely given my ticket at tell me all about it; I die to see his

the door, when my ears were saluted face. Can you persuade him to un-by one of the loudest and shrillest mask? do, do; make him, make him."screams I ever remember tp have She tittered these questions with soheard ; I sprang forward, and meet- much rapidity, that I was really in-ing Courtney, enquired the cause of elined to believe this good lady hadsuch a woeful sound amidst so much certainly mistaken her character, andmirth. "Woeful do you call it?" said intended to represent an alarm-bell,Courtney, smiling, " Why it was only instead of the Goddess of Chastity.Lady Cavil enjoying one of her own

double D 2 Courtney,

32 SHRINE OF BERTHA. „_SHRINE OF BERTHA, 33Courtney, after gasping like a per- „,,. . ,, fj. . ,.J , , t , This belle imsque, after standing inson overpowered by ^ tornado, an- thc mogt ^ ^ for

s*e,ed, "Madam, were you to set moments, to mark the progress ofhim the example, I have too good an ^ &he d) admiration>opinion of his gallantry to suppose ^ in a goftened (t Are you

he would refuse gratifying your cu- indisposed, Sir? Don't you dance?"riosity." Upon this challenge Lady „ N(^ Ma>am/> said ^ retinng a fewCavil immediately took off her upper paces towards the doon „ Don>t youmask, saying, in the most languish. play ?,, „ No^ Ma.am/, l answeredjing tone, « I fear my unmasking wi l l 8tm retirj „ Then/, f Hed

scarcely repay the gallantry or the cu- torment, •< if you neither dance norriosity of your amiable companion " , .f ^ we wiu Md

Indeed, my dear Henry, she spoke TALK SHE DID!!the truth: for, I am sorry to own,that fear Was the Only Sensa*"^n \\ hich " Her tongue was like a rolling riverthis mountain nymph exc- in my " which *™™**8 flows> ™* ««*• for evei.••breast. However, I embraced the earliest op-

portunity to escape; saying, that IPiflure to your imagination a face had an engagement which would pre-

surpassing ail the colours on a harle- vent my enjoying the delights of herquin jacket, where every gaudy scrap conversation any longer; but that iis thrown in one unmeaning jumble, was too sensibie of perfea happinesseach seeming to enquire of the other not to return the instant ifc wag Jn my

« how it got there?" power: then, without waiting for an*T* ll *% 1SUL.D 3 answer,

34 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 35

answer, I darted out of the room into by a dreadful renversement, and ren-the next, hoping that I might, by dered truly contemptible,mingling with the dancers, avoid thepersecution and loquacity of Lady Farewell! I now remind you of yourCavil! promise: much is due from you on

the scoê of description, where everyWhat a happy man Sir James Cavil breeze teems with animation, and

must be! where, in his ^prospect of every hour must be replete with ad-life, a cannon ball, or his wife, is the ventures! where la bella Campagna,alternative. I should unquestionably and the still more bella Signoras wouldprefer the former: for that would ter- surely inspire a mind less impregnatedminate existence; while the latter is with lefeu Celeste than thine!" never ending, still beginning i"

Yours, faithfully,* *

Fatigued with the clack of the pro-f £ T *• J A- i. i vi FRANCIS COLVILLE.mment figure, I retired, disgusted with

the whole group; where I beheldDevils without f ire; leaden-heeled,and still more leaden-headed, Mercu-ries ; vestals without chastity; youngwitches, and old coquettes! in short,where every thing was distorted, andthe general order of nature destroyed

byLETTER

36 SHRINE OP BERTHA. SHRINE 6p BERTHA. 37" J^ raised these hallowed wails, the desert smil'd," And Paiadise was opeu'd in the wild!"

LETTER VIII. The society of this tranquil spot con-sists of forty Pensioners, exclusive of

LAURA FITZ-OWEN, the grey sisters. We have seven Eng-Td SOPHIA CLEVELAND. lish 8"irls' from the age of eleven to

eighteen, some of whom are extremely,,_ Lausantte' April I79" amiable. My favourite is the charm-lis now eighteen months, my dear ing Belinda Warton ; she is indeed

Sophia, since you quitted Geneva, the rosc of our holy parterre> and hagand I have received only two letters the most perfe(5l affe6lion for me Shefrom you. Does the perpetual delight is entire, unknown to Qur Abbesgof Lady Cavil's society render you ( by hcr ve ^ ^wholly insensible to the claims of real lents) for she d f^friendship? Or are you ashamed to English gentleman> when onl'[Kacknowledge the miseries, which you years old^ who^ every spdng^ .voluntarily experience ?—I wish you a spiendid sum for her board and edu-

were here; you would be delighted cation You must remember her/whenwith our new convent: it is upon a you visited Geneva. She is more hl_more liberal plan than the old mo* teresting than handsome ; mild, oblig-nastery; and I need not say that Ma- ing) and tender! with a soft me]an.dame St. Bruno's brilliancy of mind cholV} which attaches extremely. . Wesheds lustre through every avenue of pass all our hours of gfcudy together .our holy habitation. and as the clder boarders are permitted

" Sbe to

S8 SHRINE OP BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 30

to walk out with a lay sister for most harmless of the human race! Itheir guard, we frequently ramble at really am often almost tempted t^sim-set over the romantic scenes so fancy myself in a new world.'beautifully described by the divineRousseau I and for which this country Our situation is healthy in the ex-i's so justly celebrated ! 'Tis impossi- tremc: we have the finest fruits, glow-ble to give you an idea of their rich- ing with the bloom, the effect of a che-ness and variety, their enchanting so- rishing climate; and the best diet oflitude and wonderful sublimity! every kind; with new milk, eggs,

small wines, &c. &c. We rise at se-We often waflder along the margin ven in the summer, and at eight in

of the extensive kke, which (glittering the winter; we retire to rest alwayslike a sheet of gold with the reflection before ten ; and our repose is repleteof the declining Stirt, and quivering at with every thing that a tranquil mindevery breeze that steals across its slir- can bestow. I am thus exa6t in myface) bears the last vibration of the descriptions because I know that theloftg sounding vespers: we view with minutest circumstance interests thedelight the hills on every side> adorned affectionate heart, and if it were notwith variegated vineyards, and beyond for those petit riens the intercourse ofthem (terminating the prospect) the mind would be dull and insipid. Itops of the distant Alps, covered with wish you would be more constant intheir snowy mantle! Sometimes we your correspondence. Remember, myjoin the peasantry in their rural fetes ; dear Sophia, that I am in a convent,they appear to be the happiest, and " remote from cities;" and can only

most fmd

40 SHRINE OF BERTHA, SHRINE OF BERTHA. 41

find amusement in mental delights!We have neither concerts, Ranelagh, ' T^T-T vmasquerades, balls, or theatres; we 11J1.K. 1A.have onlyJ THE HON. MRS, FERCIVAL,

" Long sounding aisles, and intermingled graves!"TO EDWARD PERCIVAL.

whereCavendish-square, April 179-

" Ever musing Melancholy reigns!"— MY WORTHY SON,

Belinda Warton desires me to pre- JL °UR letter afforded me inexpressi-sent her love to you : though un- ble joy ; in tlie first place, because itknown, you are my friend, and she brought the consoling news of yourinsists on my not breaking through good health ; and secondly, because itthe invariable rule which I have made convinced me of your laudable pursuitof participating with her in every de- in the road to wisdom: continue inlight of my heart. that path, and you will be the admira-

tion of rank! the pride of your fa-"' roily ! and an honour to the title \\ hich

Affectionately yours, *OU are destined to inher*»

LAURA FITZ-OWEN. Ro not think of returning, at least forthese twelve months; be prudent, andoeconomical; remember you haveevery prospea of being a distinguished

IETTER ornament to the peerage of England !VOL'1- E Avoid

42 SHRINE OF BERTHA,, SHRIN£ OF BERTHA. 43

Avoid the females of Italy! I mean tutorj but that i cannot part with himthose of gallant reputation: they are for any length of timej he is so ex.abominable syrens ; my son, they will tremely useful in the family,destroy your plan of improvement,and seduce you from the pages of Your fortune is hourly improving;learning. We have too many exam- you will be as rich as you will be vir-ples of their artifice among our young tuous ; in both, the envy of a malici-nobility ; and many a one who has set ous and wicked world,out an idiot has returned a knave.The only addition such charafters will Don>t for£et' *hen y°u Pass throuSh

make to their heraldry, will be the Lausanne, to deliver the letter to Missfool's-cap, an emblem of the degraded Fitz-Owen ; I hear she is a perfectstate of the present generation. beaut^ and as amiable as she is Iovelv!

but I have never seen her. She hasDo not venture to the theatres: they been educated in a convent, where she

are scenes of luxurious folly, and will has resided fro™ her childhood,corrupt the purity of your youthful ,f yQu wanfc any money you ghall

mind. Mr. Courtney (my worthy have it; but remember ceconomy, andchaplain) informs me, that he writes that tQ be indcpendent is the only wayto you constantly : I know his letters tQ be respeaable Adieu Accept thcare, and will be, replete with maxims advke and loye of upof sagesse! he is a very wise and dis-creet young man; I could'wish you Affectionate friend and mother,had him with you for a travelling

. , 1/i* JrJilvL/1 V AJL-.tutor, _& 2 Your

44 SHRINE OF BERTHA. sl|RmE QF BERTHA. 4J

Your uncle, Lord Litchfield, is inbetter health than I have seen him formany years. LETTER X.

tLAURA FITZ-OWEN,

TO SOPHIA CLEVELAND.

Lausanne, MJJ> 179-.

-tLvERY letter that I receive from mydearest Sophia comes with the sweet-ness of benediction ; it reconciles meto the obscurity in which I pass all rnydays, and tells me, at least, that I amnot wholly forgotten. Yet I do notrepine at my situation, when I reflectthat I am removed from the sorrowsof a busy deceitful world, and perhaps,by my seclusion, escape many an anxi-ous hour attendant upon splendor.

I sometimes wander from our abodeof peace to the ruins of the ancientconvent, at the distance of an hundredyards from the present habitable edi-

LETTER E 3 fice;


fice ; I often climb, with Belinda, over riosity, by hiring a peasant to removethe rugged ground, or rest upon some the fragments, in order that I maymoss-grown seat, hung round with ivy, fully examine their records, forand contemplate the gothic arches,mouldering at every blast of wind that " Perchance in this negiefted spot i* kid,

, . , , / : i 0.1 . Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire;whistles through them, scattering HandSj that the rod of empire might have sway>d,around their fretted fragments. It Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre!"must have been a fabric of great ex-tent, and singularly beautiful archi- The other niSht we stole out after

tetfure! Some parts of the shattered vespers, and strolled to our favouriteroof are still exquisitely painted, and retreat, there we foundthe pavement is tesselated with marble ,. . ,„ . " Room for meditation even to madness !'•01 various colours.

It was a clear moon-light evening ; noThe columns (which have most sound was heard but the rushing of a

escaped the ravages of time and the distant water fall, and the nightingale,seasons) appear to be the remains of a warbling from the adjacent wood; thesuperb chapel, and the cloisters; the pale light darted through the moul-former has yet a magnificent altar en- dering walls, silvering the dark ivy5tire, and the latter bears the marks of covered with dew ; and the whole scenemany imperfect inscriptions, but the was exquisitely touching to a mindover-hanging weeds prevent my trac- gifted with sensibility,ing the memorials of names or subjects.I have often wished to indulge my cu- While we were contemplating its

riosity, awful

48 SHRIKE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 40awful beauties,, a cloud passed over the absence." Miss War ton made no re-moon, and we were suddenly left in ply; I took my handkerchief from mytotal darkness, pocket, and tied it round her neck ;—

I touched her hand, it was cold andBelinda pressed my arm as a signal trembling ; and by the light of the

of fear; I confess I felt a degree of moon which shone upon our faces asdread more easily imagined than de- we quitted that part of the chapel, Iscribed. We sat for some time upon perceived that she was walking witha sheltered fragment of the ruin, trem- her eyes shut!—"Heavens!" said I,bling and not daring to move, or ''what is the matter, Belinda?" are youspeak, lest the sound of each other's not afraid?" said she in a faulteringvoice should enable any passenger to voice. " No, indeed," answered I,trace our hiding place. At length we ready to expire with terror.—" Whatdistinaiy heard the convent bell strike should I fear ? Do you suppose me soten, the regular hour for retiring to childishly superstitious, as to entertainrest—the outer gates are always closed any alarm because we are in dark-at nine for the night;—alarmed at the ness." There is no more danger hererecollection of being so far from home, than in our own convent: In any place,and the dread of being discovered, out you may believe me, there is nothingso late after vespers, inspired us with to dread; good spirits will not molestcourage to venture from the ruins. " us, and surely Heaven will proteft us" Belinda," said I, " indeed it grows against evil ones." " I wish," inter-very late, and I am alarmed lest Ma- rupted Belinda, " that you would notdame' St. Brimo should hear of our talk about them." " Why not ?" 1

absence" * was

SO SrfRlNE OF BfiRTtfA. SHRINE °F BERTHA' *l

was at that moment alarmed by the COHCeal his treasure 'till he finds a con-sound of footsteps, and saw a man enter v™'™* opportunity for carrying itthe gateway with a lantern. We were away.'in an obscure corner of the ruin, andthe moon being enveloped in dark We rose, and stole gently out of theclouds, it was impossible for him to ruin > the instant we found ourselvesdiscover our retreat He brought a in the wood we fl

rew wilh incre*b1<*

packet, or a small trunk, which he swiftness, and m a few minutes arrivedcarefully deposited in the chapel; and at thf convent The Porter> who was

then hastily escaped over the heaps of JU8t faste»'ng Sa<e> le* us in, andrugged stones, which formerly inclos- f°r a sma11 Present' Promised .invio1*'ed the burying ground of this ancient ble secres?' thus' Sold' «*»^m«»-monastery. We listened with beating CM tempt the sternest sanahy to««.hearts to the echo of his footsteps uponthe hollow ground, which was " loose, We retired to our chamber to rtimi-and infirm with digging up of graves," nate on the ^venture at the old con-till the sound died away, and all was vent-and the robber, for such westill again concluded the stranger to have been,

occupied my thoughts the whole night" Belinda," said I, " for heaven's .

sake now exert some resolution, and Neither Belinda or m?self enJ°êd

let us fly from this place ; be assured a moment>s rePose' we talked of the

this was a robber who has plundered affair >tiU ^'^^' and aSreed that

some traveller, and been induced to we *ould' on the following evenin^conceal venture

52 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. S&

venture forth again, at an earlier hour,with the sexton of the convent, to dis- T -C-TTFR YI, , , . . . ^ . L.JC* I 1H-K Al.cover the hidden treasure, knowingthat, during the day, the person who SIR FRANCIS COLVILLE,had deposited it would not be so dar-

. . , . , . r . . . T O EDWARD PERCIVAL.ing as to attempt seeking for his plun-der. . Cbarietoa Priorjf, May, 179-.

THREE months have elapsed and noAdieu, for the present, my next letter from Edward PercivaU Have

letter shall tell you the result of our you bibbed of the Lethean spring?—researches. I know you will congra- Are you fallen a victim to the jealousytulate me on the escape we have had : of some, " fiery Tybalt ?" Or, t^ urefor there cannot be a doubt but that some romantic passion, have you Kenwe should have been murdered, had a cool leap into that capacious crucible,the moon discovered our hiding-place. Vesuvius? If you are no more, " God

rest your soul in heaven full merry:''Once more adieu, believe me sincerely, for, at least it will be purified in pass-

ing through the burning lake !Your friend^

I have been these ten days at Charle-LAURA FITZ-OWEN, ton Priory, on a visit to our ancient

friend, Sir Harvey Wentworth. I be-lieve 1 shall stay a month longer, andthen I must return to Oxford, that

LETTER VOL% '• ^ terrestrial

,54 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 53

terrestrial Pandemonium of pedantry faded willow, while his scattered son-and profligacy! nets, whirling in sympathetic contact

with the fallen leaves, create the mostWe expect a large party this sum- sublime confusion.——Adieu, my dear

mer. Courtney arrived yesterday. I Percival: believe me, I begin to dis-uonder Mrs. Percival could suffer her cover, that nothing can he more intoler-sentimental soul-guard to stray bo far able, than an old family mansion, infrom home! I hope he has left his ri- the Country. I am certain, that ifdiculous refinement at Litchfreld ; for Courtney continues to cherish his ro-I shall certainly be tempted to make mantic ideas of knight errantry ;---andcartridges of his " Heroic Epistles," I have not some more amusing objectsand paplllotes of his "Love Elegies!" to contemplate, than our gothic host,The affectation of tenderness, which he and his steel-ribbed ancestors, fightinghas lately adopted, is become perfectly " all their battles o'er again," uponabsurd. He, " like mortals, never canvass, I shall in time dwindle im-sleeps;" but frequently \vanders all perceptibly into something that willnight in the forest, chaunting love rival even the antediluvian curioskieaditties. Poor Caesar, the honest old of Sir Harvey's Museum!house-dog, will pine himself to a ske-leton with jealousy, at the midnight Adieu, my dear Percival, believehowlings of the divine. When I rise me»at break of day, to enjoy the delights Yours truly,of the country, I find him sittii.g p COLVJLLEmournfully under some hollow oak, or

faded F 2 LETTER

, £6 SKRJNE OF BERTHA, SHRINE OP BERTHA. £7

Forgive me for the affectation of beingLETTER XII. an adviser; but the few months that

you passed beyond the walls of yourSOPHIA CLEVELAND, * • • c ,convent, since your infancy, have

TO LAURA FITZ-OWEN. scarcely been sufficient to arm > ourGrMKHr-tn*, LcnJon, M.,, ,79t, ingenuous soul againtf the treachery

of a deceitful world. To-morrowDEAR LAURA, morning Lady Cavil and I intend set-

HAVE you seen your cousin Edward ting out for Charleton Priory, thePercival ? He has, I understand, been delightful mansion of Sir Harveyabsent from England some months.— Wentworth. It is situated in Berk-He intends to make a tour of France shire. The house, which -has stoodand Italy, and en revenant, to complete ^le changes of the seasons for upwardshis journey by a pilgrimage to the °f two centuries, exhibits its greyshrine, which you embellish, to pay walls upon an extensive lawn; pro-his devoirs to his belle com'me. Re- tecled on one side by hanging \\oods,member, he is very devout, where which extend their luxurious vcgeta-beauty is the image of his idolatry ; ti°n for many miles along the banks oftherefore, see him veiled, I conjure the river, while the northern aspectyou: recollecl the precepts of your be- commands an extensive view of Ox -loved Shakespeare, that, fordshire, w hich is separated .from

Berkshire by the Thames.«' The chariest maid is prodigal enough,«' If she unmask her beauties to the moon'" ™

Fnririv* here the enll£htened Denham hasJ U l g l V C _,1 * often

SB SHRINE OP BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 5&

often retired from the splendour and being a very old friend of my family,profligacy of the Court, to converse has invited lady Cavil, to oblige mewith Nature, in all her romantic lux- (as he supposes) \vith her society foruriance! This beautiful stream, im- the remainder of the summer,mortali zed by poets of every age, hasnever been more accurately described Adieu, dear Laura, I shall write tothan by him, who, when speaking of you again on my arrival at the Priory,his own talents, thus exclaims:—

SOPHIA CLEVELAND*" Oh! could I flow like thee, and. snake thy stream,My great example, as it is my theme;Tho* deep, yet clear, tho' silent, yet not«' '.H,Strong without rage, without o'er-flswing full."

Never was there PO perfect a descrip-tion comprised in so short a space.

The romantic prospects from thePriory ajfe terminated by a small path-way, which leads to the " Villagehouse of prayer," rendering the wholelandscape interesting and beautiful.

This place is a scene of perpetual3elight and hospitality. Sir Harvey,

being LETTER

-,rt SHRINE OF BERTHA. €1§O SHRINE OF BERTHA.

of meeting with any thing mortal here;but I know not why, a presentiment,

LETTER XIII. the most unpleasant, chains my feet.'*"Folly! folly!" cried Belinda, gently

LAURA FITZ OWEN, pulling my arm:—"Come, Etienne,TO SOPHIA CLEVELAND, you must lead the way: I hope you are

not afraid ;" " afraid—no," returnedLausanne, May, 179-,

MY DEAR SOPHIA, he i" *lth God s P™teclion, I dare anyMY last letter must have excited *%'iJT' "* ?°Un/K

ladies' *f *. ., T .,1 4. *u r j eac" n°ld of my arm, and be assured, Iyour curiosity ; I will not therefore de- ... , r , ' . . , . .. .J , . , , will defend you against whatever thistain you long in suspence, but proceed , .„ ' „A . * *u * *v. • ri Place Wl11 produce,to inform you, that on the evening fol- r

lowing our alarm at the chapel, before ,x/ „ , , r e , , . ..• j * *u ^ i ê proceeded, fearful, yet impati-sun-set, we repaired to that melan- . , .. c - •' r^,. ™ j T-.. , ent^ to satisfy our curiosity. The suncholy spot. We made Etienne, the just ^^ .Q the horiz(m . tfae gk

sexton of the convent, accompany us ; ^ beautifully serene; the trees wereand as he is a strong young Savoyard, wav]ng in g£)ft murmurs around ugjwe thought he might be able to defend and the b|rds h to roostus from any assault. We arrived at the branches . the |nsea milliong weM

the outward arch ; I own the chilled humming their evening song, andblood began to forsake my cheek ; Be. swarming from their little caverns,linda smiling, said, « Now who is vvhere th had shdtered themselvesthe coward ?"-« You are right,' re- froifl a recent ^ Nev£r did M_plied I, " yet I am not apprehensive t

of

62 SHR1KE 0F BERTHA. SHRINE OF BEHTHA. 6S

ture appear so refreshed, or so per- We ,„ crowded ,.ound gndfeclly enchanting • , . , , . B

J 6 immoderately, each asserting a right,,7 , , ., , . TT ,. to a share of the treasure. '«Thev doWe entered the chapel—" Here," . ., y ao., T fc ,., ,, *, .. report, said our sexton, (leaning- onsaid I, " did the man deposit some- i • • i x ..t , , . "& on

*u- i, *. •* L i ,„ "1S pJck-axe,) « that this monasterything;--what it was, heaven knows ?' l lrao ^ - '; . . . 0 UJUIUtbL«y

« » *u- » .j T^- L . w^s one of the richest in Switzerland •" I see nothing,1 said Etienne; " but , . . ,. , ^CIIdIJw». . , . , . j • , T MI j- 4

bllt when the emperor took it into hiswith this good pick-axe, I will dig to . . . , ,. , , . 1IIS>b», r 6 head to demolish his own con vents, our

lgeyOU> massy ornaments vanished, nobody

He then began his task, and had not "" te" *™. ?°r abbfs is his ™1*-, continued it two minutes, when he telL to C T^ that,tHey tFa'

struck against a solid mass. « We bulêlm,v M 7? W kn°WS

have it, by our Lady!" exclaimed *^£?£ ?% *™mi*f?,- ,/»*. u <. i •*. taken. VVe all agreed that it couldEtienne, " 'tis a heavy treasure, be it f K f, , ., f ar . c uouia

. . . . . . j u , not be the deposit of the night robber•what it will, and perhaps may make a i«nr» r.r,« r^0. u t «^"ci,» r „ » TT *• i as no one person could have carried sopoor man s fortune." He continued nnn^pmnc o K , *K ^r l i icub°; T t ..., ... ., , . pondeious a burthen. We continuedto labour till (the earth bemc; com- „..,, „ • f. -,-, "wuucu1 t , , , v , j x j- oui n,irth. 1 he sun was set, and thepletely broken and removed) we dis- fa:n<. „,„„ 7 , ' LIIC

j i «> , r i n PU)PIe gloom, penetrating thecovered a large coffer, made of oak, sha^prpri ™«f i j >,. ,, -. , > i . , snactei ed roof, rendered it almostand curiously carved, but much pe-rished, by having remained a long " Darkness visible."time in the ground, though not more tt rv.™« ^ .than a foot beneath the suLe. „ L^ ^""^ said l>^ make haste, we will have it open at

any


any rate; you have excited my curio- rested on his pick-axe, in mournfulsity, and I shall not rest till it is gra- silence > l confess I had much, verytified " much, difficulty to save myself from

fainting.He then placed his pick-axe in the

crevice of the lid; and (the wood be- "Alas!" said Etienne, at lengthing softened by the length of time it recovering from his surprise, " Thishad been buried) with very little dif- must be the poor lady who died bv herficulty he forced it open. ovvn rash hands> many years a§° in ou^

convent; my father was then sexton ;Gracious heaven ! (my blood almost ' and I remember his telling me the me-

congeals whilst I write!) conceive our lancholy story, and his saying that hehorror, when we beheld—the remains had> (by order of the superior) atof a female form, wrapped in fine linen, midnight, hid her corps in a secretwith a gold chain and cross about the spot, to prevent the exposure and ri~neck, and a wedding ring on one of gour exercised on the remains of thosethe fingers. We looked at each other, who commit self-slaughter. The sto-as pale as alabaster. It was impossi- ry," added he, « has been hushed upble to trace whether the person had ever since, for many reasons; butbeen young or old ; but noble it cer- murder will out, as they say ! We hadtainly had been, by the richness of its better cover the coffer, and lay theburial garments. We continued to earth over it; and to-morrow I willgaze in dumb astonishment; Belinda come, and secure it in a manner, thatwas as cold as marble; our poor sex ton nothing for the future shall dis-

rested VOL. i. G turb


turb it." I found some relief from till some intelligence may restore it tothe coolness of the evening air, and the right owner."sat myself down on a broken co-lumn, near the entrance, to recover We returned to the convent, im-my spirits—it was almost dark:— pressed with a thousand melancholy"Yes," said I, " do conceal those sensations. I could not forbear shed-poor remains ; and to-morrow we will di"S a torrent of tears. The poorcome and see how you have performed Etienne looked like one « crazed withyour promise." In a few minutes he care," and my dear Belinda was per-replaced the earth, and we rose to defe&]y stupified with wonder,part. " I may as well leave my pick-axe and shovel," said Etienne..." Stay, ^die"' *** a Ion« letter ' «•"«>stay, young ladies, only a moment, *"< f" \"M •*"" resume my pen,while I find a place to hide them in." ' , / „ / , " " I T ? '"""", . . r . , e ., . mation on the subjea of our adven-He crept into a niche for that pur- tureg

J

pose—but what was our surprise when ' ,,f . ^ . , ,, . i ours ever,he, almost instantly, came runningtowards us, with a small red box, LAURA piTz QWmneatly decorated, and marked with theinitials E. P. " This," said I, " iscertainly the treasure which the robberhid k;st n ight ; we will take it to Ma-fluiic St. Bruno, and she shall keep it,

tillG 2 LETTER


LETTER XIV. LETTER XV.

EDWARD PERCIVAL, SOPHIA CLEVELAND)

TO SIR FRANCIS COLVILLE. »TO LAURA FITZ-OWEN.

Lausanne, May, 179*,H . . Cha.-leton Priory, May, 179..

ERE am I—in a miserable hovel ! —,, ,, , , . . MY DEAR LAURA.on a miserable pallet !---in a most mi-

serabie condition !--- wounded—rob- YOUR account of the strange discoverybed—and almost murdered !—Last at your chapel, made my heart thrillnight, on entering the forest about two with horror! How can you seek aftermiles distant, we were attacked by such melancholy adventures? Yet ifthree armed ruffians; and, like my you pursue your researches any fur-friend Falstaff," I received their seven ther, pray let me have a minute detailpoints upon my target:" or, on what of whatever happens; en attendant, Iyou will say is still more impenetrable, will communicate to you the events ofmy head! But my surgeon has forbid our summer excursion. If I had theme to write, until my precious life is pencil of Hogarth, or Bunbury, to de-pronounced to be in perfeft safety. lineate the motley and grotesque in-Adieu! «' More shalt thou hear anon/' niates of Charleton Priory, I have sofrom many originals, that I should not know

EDWARD PERCIVAL. which way to make the prominent fi-gure on the canvass ; however, I shall

LETTER G 3 try

?

70 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA, 71try to describe them, and (though Cavil, he was politely attentive, thoughcontrary to the rules of painting) begin I could perceive in his countenancewith the darkest shade first; I there- evident signs of disappointment at thefore introduce the gentle Lady Cavil. eccentric appearance of ma belle cba-

perone! After the ceremonials of intro-After the fatigue of packing and du<5lion betwen Lady Cavil and the

unpacking fifty times, we departed respedlable Sir Hervey were finished,from Grosvenor-street in her post- we proceeded to the drawing-room,chaise, so buried among bundles, (for he had, according to the ancientband-boxes, and lap dogs, that I was rules of hospitality, greeted us in hisfrequently in fear of absolute suffbca- old fashioned hall, hung round withtion ; believe me, I envied even the tattered banners, rustling at everyservant, who rode post; and the Bris- breath of wind, and waving over thetol waggon (which we passed on the rusty armour, and venerable stagsroad) seemed more delightful than the heads, whose branching horns, regu-triumphal car of Cleopatra, when com- larly arranged, bespoke the pride andpared with our moving machine *of antiquity of the family.) Hadyouseenmisery and mortification, I rejoiced Sir Hervey handing Lady Cavil, atwhen I beheld the gun kindly sinking arnvs length, by the point of her littlebehind the hill, as if unwilling to wit- finger, up the great stair-case, andness our disgraceful debarkation at the through the long gallery ; had you be-Priory. We arrived in the evening, held his neat figure, his taper legs, onand I was received by Sir Hervey which his glossy silk hose were drawnWentwrth, as by a father. To Lady considerably

Cavil,

72 SHRINE OF BERTBA. SHR1NE OF EEnTHA. 73

considerably above his trembling < to my great mortification) I witnessedknees ; his high-heeled, short-quar- jn reality.tered, shammy shoes, curiously fast-ened on his instep with small gold Affectionately your's,buckles, looking as if he had justawoke from a nap, commenced in the SOPHIA CLEVELAND.reign of good Queen Anne ! you wouldscarcely have been able to refrain fromlaug >g. Though my face had noopportunity of smiling, it was com-pletely occupied in blushing-, for myclamorous companion, whose trum-pet-toned voice (echoing along thevaulted ceiling of the great hall,) mademe almost fancy that the " completesteel" of the Wentworth's, borne by theairy forms of their possessors, would,mistaking it for the Herald's summons,instantly descend, and form them-selves for battle! Having condu6tedthem so far, I shall leave you, my dearLaura, to contemplate with your

- *' mind's eye-" those scenes^ which(to

LETTER

74 SHRIKE OF BERTHA. SHRINE ^F BEIITHA. ?J

continued this honest fellow, "youLETTER XVI. do«'t know what treasure it contained;

curiosity led me to look again thisLAURA FITZ OWEN, morning, and I found, to my great sur-

TO SOPHIA CLEVELAND. prise, a golden box, which you shallLausanne, May, ,79.. see-" We then removed the cover, and

on the left side lay a richly embossedMY DEAR SOPHIA, oaolro* \\T * J r

B casket. We stood for a moment con.EFORE the sun rose, we quitted our sulting each other,s looks at

pillows, where we had enjoyed little Belinda sed an earnest *rest; and at the conclusion of Matins, examine itg ^ Etienne deswe, ventured forth ; (it was an holiday, me to undose jt , . __ t h

and therefore we were permitted to be trembling, diretfed my hand towardsabsent:) Etienne was waiting in the if. „„ T f«,,^.u«^ *u •*. • ," . .. , ,,T 5 , , it, as I touched the arm, it instantlygate-way to attend us We proceeded moulded to ashes! I started back,to the old chapel. On our arrival at ready to {re with horror| 'the melancholy spot, we perceived the enne/) gaid ^ „ do take jtearth removed. I was preparing to for , haye nQt the power » Hetook'express my astonishment, when Eti- the casket in his hand . , fclt coWenne said, " I left the coffer in this blood shiver at my heart „ Q ^ „state, that you might examine it once said ^ trembling> He did_but wit'hmore, if you wished it; and likewise, a degree of respcaful aw€j tha(. madethat you may be satisfied that all the me almosfc WQrship him> It contajncd

valuables remain perfe^ly safe: for, a gmaU lock of ^^ curious, braided.continued 'an

76 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 77an enamelled miniature picture, of a convent belli, struck nine; it seemedyoung and handsome man, and a pa- like the passing knell of the ill-fatedper, with these words written upon it: BERTHA !

« WHOEVER SHALL DISCOVER THESE I knelt beside the spot till the earthMOURNFUL RELICS, is DESIRED TO PRE- was levelled with the other parts of theSERVE THEM TILL TIME SHALL DEVE- ground, and then assisted Etienne inLOPE THE DREADFUL HISTORY OF THEIR m a quantity of fragments of stone,ONCE HAPPY POSSESSOR, 'J^ g ^ oyer whkh

BERTHS, COUNTESS OF —." * have every day since uttered a thou-sand orisons.

My heart throbbed as though itwould burst its prison ; in vain did I * believe I should have remainedendeavour to speak; I expected no. there tijl midnight, had not Belindathing less than instant annihilation ; checked, what she called, my » ridicu-in a few moments I recovered suffici- lous sensibility." I confess I did notently to take the casket, and pressing suppose her capable of making such ait to my quivering lips, with holy ve- remark ; and could not help replying,neration, secretly vowed to obey the " You are at liberty, if the scene isinjunctions it contained. We then unpleasant to you." She took me atcovered the coffer; every shovel full mv word> and Ieft me under the pro-of dust that our sexton threw over it, teclion of the honest Etienne. « -Tisdrew a torrent from my eyes ; while ver^ st«nge," said he, sighing. Jlie was performing this sad office, the made no ^Pty' but «ghed responsive-

l convent lv-~~tf Let us depart," said he.VOL. i. H \Ve

78 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. T9

We proceeded towards the con vent, robbed and wounded by banditti t\vobefore we arrived at the gate, I could nights since. He is lodged at a farm-not help offering my humane compa- house, about a mile from hence. Thenion the little money I had about me, trunk, marked with the initials, E. P.which he firmly refused to accept.— which we found where the robber had" Do you think," said he, « that I concealed it, evidently belonged torequire a reward for doing what is him; and Madame St. Bruno immedi-right? No, no, Mademoiselle Laura; ately sent it, with every offer of civility.1 am not so poor, that I must be paid She has dispatched a messenger tofor being honest." Accept it then,5' Geneva for a surgeon, for he is muchsaid I, <f Pour I'stmitie." " There hurt ; but as soon as he is sufficientlyagain I must refuse you," said Etienne, recovered, I have leave (with Pen« for your friendship is not so change- Leonard,) to make him a visit. I hope-able, but that it will last till another my cousin is not so very handsome asday ; therefore you must excuse me you represent him to be. I shall dreadfor not receiving an earthly reward to know him, being shut up from allfor the little step conscience may whis- mankind, except our ghastly lookingper I have made towards heaven." I confessor,could not but admire his honest sim-plicity. Belinda is expiring to see this for

midable Anglois ; and I have promised"On my arrival at the convent, I to take her with me ; but as we shall

found a letter from Mrs. Percival, be guarded, there \\ ill be no greatwhose son was (as you will perceive) jj ^ danger

robbed

*0 SHRINE OF BERTHA. , ^ QF m^HA> 8J

danger of any very interesting conver-sation.

LETTER XVII.Adieu!

SOPHIA CLEVELAND,Yours sincerely, To LAURA FITZ-OWEN.

L A U R A FITZ-OU EN. CMetm P™V> >"' *^'I HAVE just received your letter, mydearest Laura, mentioning Mr. Perci-val's accident. Was it very astonish-ing, that, in approaching you, he waswounded ?

But what a happy condensity ofskull your charming cousin must beblest with. Had the blows, which heprovidently sustained on his head,fallen on any part of his body, instantannihilation \\ould have been the in-evitable consequence. The fashion-able world would have been a scene ofweeping and lamentation; for Ed-ward is, though newly presented, the

, very idol of the female throng; forLETTER H3 which

82 SHRINE OP BERTHA. SHRIKE OF BERTHA, 85

which reason, in the true spirit ofcon- Madame St. Bruno to be his physician,tradition, he flies, merely for the but don't see him yourself. Such a nursepleasure of enjoy ing their misery. as Laura Fitz-Owen would, I fear,

while eradicating a temporary disease,I am informed that Mrs. Percival implant one in the heart of her pati-

was very much alarmed at the intelli- ent, which " Nor time, nor place, norgence, as she intends to give afete villa- lengthening years can cure."geoise, in the course of the ensuingmonth, which must have been post- Once more, then, I conjure you notponed if her son had been killed. to see him.

It was reported that she intended to Yours, my dear Laura,have abandoned the opening of her y sincerely,friend Lady Littlefigure's faro bank,(the evening the news arrived) had SOPHIA CLEVELANDnot her milliner entered at thesame time, with a bonnet a I'effmdi,which, I am sorry to add, entirelyoverset her project of sympatheticseclusion.

But to return to your favourite sub*jeft—is Edward Percival out of dan-ger'? has he proper attendance, ? Suffer

Madame LETTER

»* SHRINE OF BERTHA. 85Mi SHRINE OF BERTHA,' mandsme tointimidate,thatno expence

shall be spared to prove, that she pos-LETTER XVIII. gesses a faiiing and malevolent heart.

SIMON GALLIARD,I suppose, Mounseer Vilecur, you

TO MONSIEUR DE VILLECOURT. t>uFF« ,be taking y<>ur pleasure, and that you

Liuhfeu Abbey, June, i79-. be junketing about rarely, from placeMOUNSEER VILECUR, to place, levelling in luxury and lazi-

KNOWING as you be Mister Percival's ness; but it is the way with ye all,Valley de Sham, and thinking as your now-a-days; but as I am oversteppingFrench ways dont at all agree with our my capacity of my Lady's steward, 1English Constitution, I does you the must beg leave to incline making anyhonour to write you these few lines, in remarks consarning the business. Imy officious capacity, as the Honour- remain, Mounseer,able Mrs. Percival's steward, my goodlady having heard that her son, your Your humble servant,master, has had an incident, which, S1MON GALLIARD.she has been reformed, is a discussionon the brain, in order to prove her de- P. S. My lady wood write herself,feftion, she desires me to disclose the but she has been refined in her cnam-sum of forty pounds as a small present: ber for these six weeks, with her oldand if it should please heaven to take flying goat,the poor young gentleman from thismucked world to the other, she de- LETTER

mands

- 80 SHRINE OF BERTITA. SHRINE °F BERTHA' &

means to proceed on his tour in two orthree days.

LETTER XIX.I wished he had never visited Lau-

LAURA FITZ-OWEN, ^ , Th°Se 8UPf ^"f* ™**such solitary wretches as myself beholdTO SOPHIA CLEVELAND. :'n ^ the world with eyes not wholly indif-

Lausanne, jwie, ,79-, ferent; and when we turn to contem-OH! my dear Sophia, J have seen and Plate our monastic obscurit^ we ca»-conversed with my amiable Cousin 1- not heIP niakill£ such comparisons asI confess that all your accounts of his produce disquietude. I hate the sightpersonal and mental accomplishments, of old Pere Leonard, since I beheldfall far short of his merit. He is in- Edward Percival, and can scarcelydeed astonishingly handsome, and so believe that I am not dreaming when Iinteresting, so well bred, so unassum- compare their figures. Happy ! happying. I am really surprised that you Sophia! 'Do you not sometimes com-suffered him to leave England. miserate my mournful destiny? Do

you not wish to see me at liberty ? ButHow dearly Mrs. Percival ought to what has a wretched friendless orphan

love such a son ; how much all his to do with the busy world ? Why shouldfriends must lament his absence; how 1 pine for the turmoil of life ? I haveuniversally will he be adored at Na- no right to covet splendour : I was notpies. He is quite recovered: his horn to dazzle admiring eyes, or tri-wound was not dangerous ; and he umph over the hearts of surrounding

means slaves:

88 SH1UNE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA, 89

slaves: to you, my dear Sophia, I resign With my pencil I wrote the inclosedthe laurel of conquest, and must en- verses in my pocket-book :deavour to remember that, STANZAS WRITTJJN AT THE s^^ Qp BERTHA .

« Here for ever, ever must I stay!" Pleas'd with the calm bewitching hour,When Evening shadows o'er the plain j

I am grown more fond of mysolitary '"SZZZgg^^retreat than ever ; I pass much of mytime there: yesterday evening I had Here, where the woven ivy hangs,

; . , . , „ .f_ „!«„,,> TVtc Once the rich shrine of marble rose!courage to visit it quite alone. J he And chaiftsfy,d V E S T A L S >igh,d thdrtimidity I had felt on former occasions And bath,d) with icy tears theh. woes>

seemed wholly vanished; I experi-enced a perfeft serenity of mind, and All here, where on the rugged groundenceu d. pcntv, j fne sculptured fragments scattered lie,my sense of dread was subdued by tne Er>t did the choral anthem sound>

tranquility around me. My SOlll glow- And holy incense meet the sky,

ed with poetical inspiration, I enjoyed ^ ? â melancholy solace, more gratifying What can ye shew to sooth the breagt ?to my mind than the liveliest scenes save pensive twilight- sequent tear,Could have bestowed. So pure, SO That falls in crystal lustre drest!

superior was my delight, that though vet O'er the scene of rude decay>

the Clouds threatened a Storm, no Blithe nature darts the morning beam!

poêr on earth could have prevented ^^%£ZZ^,me even from encountering its impend-in a fnrv * r<>ie Authoress is '"debted to her Mother for all the PceiryUlg i ui y. in these volumes nj, arted „ ith ifiverted c^m _

WithVOU »' I And

90 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. .01

And here wan CVNTHI A sheds her light, yet> njther shaij the RED BREAST bring,The shatter'd roofs and walls among 5 The lilly, and the palest rose:

And here the solemn hour of night And all the fairest ilow'rs of spring,Is chear'd by PHILOMELA'S song! To drci>s her bed——of long repose.

And here the PILGRIM, poor and sad, Oh i gentle BIRD ! no wand'rer rudeNo kindred smile his breast to warm, Shall bid thee from these ruins flee;

May find, what cruel foes forbad, Blest mistrel of this solitude 1A shelter from the howling storm! Still shalt thou sing——TO S O L A C E M:..

Blow, blow ye keen, ye ruthless windsj I had scarcely finished these stanzas,Ye livid lightnings dart around! when Migs WaitOn came hastily to'

Whileterror freezes guilty minds, . , . JAnd conscience owns the cureless wound. ward the chapel, and informed me,

that Mr. Percival had just sent wordHere can I view, unchill'd with dread, to MaddDie St. BrUHO, that he should

The lofty aisle and shad'wy dome; do himself » the honour " of WaitinffThe turrets, tottering o'er the dead; , . , , „ &

The long-drawn monumental gloom! On her m half an hour, to take leave,as it was his intention to depart at day.

Where, still, without one holy rite, break for Italy. I was sorry to hearThe hapless BERTHA^ form shall sleep! this intelligence: a strange, foolish

While bhishing rigour shrinks from light, . . . ° ° 'And MELANCHOLY, hides——to weep. palpitation of my heart made me blush

when I turned my eyes towards thewith SUPERSTITION gliding round, farm house where he had lodged ever

A thousand ghastly shades shall gleam j since he received his wound. BelindaWhile oer the dew besprinkled ground . '"• *-»^"«u«*

Steals the faint MOON'S retiring beam! v'as lavish of her praises; she spokeuith delight of his handsome person,

Yet 12 and

i)2 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 93-

and still more rapturously of his grace- tired towards the door; I think, re-tul manners. For the first time in my luclantly. His air was pensive andlife, I was really displeased with her: I melancholy, his voice inarticulate; hehad not power to confess the justice of was barely polite to Madarne St. Bru-her panegyric : something like shame no, even rudely inattentive to Belindachained my tongue; yet why I know —but to me——alas!——I dare notnot, for heaven can bear witness to describe his manner; it was all fasci-the innocence of my heart. nating, gratifying, dangerous, and

impressive—his eyes betrayed a mil-Atnine o'clock he came ; he bowed ljon sensations, which language never

respectfully to Madame St. Bruno, on cou{d have revealed. He stood for aentering our Parloir, but his eyes were moment as if trying to recollect some-instantly fixed on me so steadfastly, thing ; then, recovering from his reve-and with such a mournful expression^ rie, darted across the court-yard :that I knew not how to conceal my Madame St. Bruno, (who is the bestconfusion. His forehead still retained bred woman in the world,) accompa-the scar left by his barbarous assail- nied him to the outward gate, whichants. I confess that a tear obtruded had a strong heavy bolt; Mr. Percivalon my sight, \\hen I recollecled the endeavoured to open it; I involunta-extreme danger he had escaped. Sure- Y[\y stepped forward to assist him; as IJy the tenderness of pity does not directed my hand towards the door--merit reprehension. he pressed it eagerly.—I no longer

n n , . saw my companions,——the world re-After a l l t h e common-place compli. J j r J T, . , 0 „_ ceded from my eyes, and I was onlyrnents used on such occasions, he re- * „ , ~.

tired 13 awakened

9* SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 95

awakened from my stupor by the the promise, and hope—he will notthundering noise of the great gate— forget it, for the remembrance ofShut—between me and the most ami- an amiable mind is consoling evenable of beings—perhaps—for ever ! to the ionely inhabitant* of perpetual

solitude. Perpetual! that word ^hasYesterday, Madame St. Bruno hint- something in it which freezes my bo-

ed, that my sojourn in this melancholy som.habitation would probably be perpe-tual. Estranged from society from my I wisn Belinda would never mentionearliest childhood, the seclusion of a kjs name,religious life has hitherto presented noterror, created no mournful repining Adieu, my dear Sophiaîn my bosom. The a\vful impressionsof monastic superstition \\eresucceed- Ever sincerely yours,ed by a total apathy ; while the loftywalls of my prison formed the boun- LAURA *ITZ-OWEN.dary of my wishes. It is now, alas!for the first time, that my heart ac-knowledges the attractions of a world,which I am destined to renounce forever !

Mr. Percival said something about•writing to us. I imperfectly recollecl

the LETTER

9C SHRINE OF BERTHA.-SHRINE OP BERTHA. 97

lisks., when I think of my Laura! I„«,„,„„ YV saw this lovely mortal, for the first

JuiliJl 1 AL.K. AAr, «.;„,- *.i ~ , , , „time, in the presence of Madame St.EDWARD PERCIVAL, B™°' ^h° fa eVeiT thi"g that is

amiable and respectable,) and a MissTO SIR FRANCIS coLviLLE. Warton. My adorable cousin is all

Gen*™, June, ,79, £race, wnsibility, and diffidence ; of

E tl u- ic • ,» i t_ *"e most nymph-like form, with aDWARD'S "himself again!" I have „ . J .:. . '.. , .,, , , , , countenance which seems the expres-been confined with a wounded head , ., .. . c^picaf , *. • *u - . u sive herald of her spotless mind. Buttor some days past, in the neighbour- , . . T ^ " JJUti. j r T U . - T £i methinks I hear you say. « Cease thvhood of Lausanne, but I am now fly- . , i ..' v,«»c mj

A .,u ii ravings, and describe, friend Edward,mg post with a worse malady, a 7 r, „ tr if , wwaiu,wounded heart * describe." Know then, she is tall, ex.WV/UliUCU iHCdJ. \ . , ^ • • i i / ' i . i ~quisitely formed; with a profusion of

nr n * f\\r 11 , c u • beautiful auburn hair: her eves, ITell me not of Waller's Sacchanssa, ,,. . , . ' c/c^ *Prior's Chloe, or Petrarch's Laura! think I now see them, lustrous as theTell me not of La belle Gabrielle, or sapphire but of the darkest blue, withthe rose-lip'd Rosamond ! Mine is the " f"nSed curtam^ half concealing

i r> a^ j - / **• - i «*u (asif in pity to weak mortals) the shaftsonly Rosa Mundi! Mine is alone" the +\ * i i i i , , TTA A u• u- j i»> -ru • *u- that lurk beneath them Her nosetrue Arabian bird!" There is nothing , r .^pon earth handsome except Laura '™rc bea"tlfu! tha" tha'of the Pa»an

Fitz-Owen !__All other women ap- Ven!'s; ,hcr ™outh " cablnet °fOTientvi - u j u • pearls, breathing odours, and adornedpear like dragons, harpies, and basi- * f > ' *

r & r lisks vith " dimpled smiles."—Oh—Col-ville »


ville! my description would make a But I must fly from the enchantingfolio, she has such an inexhaustible Laura, I must, I will forget this phce-store of beauty ! nix. A mist seems-to hang over the

face of nature, since I have lost sight1 shall find little difficulty in giving of the grey battlements of Laura's con-

a very exael piclure of her conceited ve"t •' after gazing on the sun, everycompanion, Miss Warton : I need only ohje<5l seems dim and vapid,say that she is the contrast of LauraFitz-Owen ; a very moppet, composed I write this while my thrice night-of languishing leers, sighs, oglings, capped postillion is lighting his pipeand affected innocence. Laura seems ant* stepping into his boots r he adviseddelighted with her conversation, of me to sleep here,, but I told him, thatwhich I was not permitted to judge;for the sweet, mysterious damsel, with " J must be gone and live» or stayand die!"her head reclining upon her shoulder, The emphatic manner in which I pro.and the most singularly expressive notmced this quotation from our di-0tare I ever saw innocence exhibit, vine bard, led him to believe (for toobserved the most sentimental silence my honest conduclor I might haveduring the whole time that I remained spoken Greek with equal success) thatin her society. What a. blessed per- I was offended at his counsel forfeaion will her taciturnity prove to shrugging up his shoulders/ andthe happy man who « takes her hand, mounting his rossinante, he said, " Al-and calls her wife." Ions Monsieur comme II -vous plaira" then

turning to the bowing Boniface at theB"fc door,

IOO SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 101

door, continued, fc cesdiables des An-glois ne sont jamais contents!" I couldnot help acquiescing in his opinion. LETTER XXI.

LAURA FITZ-OWEN,But why am I trifling thus ? Am I

not flying from——I dare not return To SOPHIA CLEVELAND.tO a Subject Which I OUght tO———I must Lausanne, June 179-.

lorget. YOUR letter of kind advice arrivedFarewell to° âte > * âc^ seen mv amiable cou-

sin, and, alas!——taken, perhaps,Yours truly, niy final leave of him.

EDWARD PERCIVAL. He ;s nQW jn j^ admiring and

admired. The women of that countryare, I am told, exquisitely handsome ;I am sorry for it: yet why should theirbeauty interest me ? Why should Ifear their being lovely in the eyes ofMr. Percival ? But I cannot helpwriting to you all I feel, all I hope, allI dread.'

He has been gone three days, andMadame St. Bruno has not yet heard

LETTER VOL.I. K from

102 SHH1NE OF BE&THA. SHRINE OP BERTHA. 1O3

from him. He begged her permission her sti11 the most brilliant ornament ofto write, and to communicate the pro- the Savest court in Europe,gress of his journey.

I have covered the rude restingMadame St. Bruno is a woman of Place of my dear Bertha with turf and

noble family ;—her relatives reside at moss, and planted round it all theVienna, where they hold the highest sweetest flowers that this climate pro.situations about the Court. Her life duces: there do I every evening, atof celibacy is the result of choice : she sunset, weep over my rosary, andwas early in youth betrothed to an of- Pour forth a thousand orisons for theficer of great merit, and illustrious SOUJ °f its mouldering inhabitant,extraction ; he was a native of France,and killed in the German wars. Ma- No news yet from Edward Percival!dame St. Bruno, to avoid a marriageproposed by her parents, determined Adieu, dear Sophia,to fly for refuge to monastic tranquil- _.lity. At the age of twenty-five she took Y°Urs ever most trub'>the veil, and has by progressive steps , A l f B A

• j t *u u ei • A uu LAURA FITZ-OWEN.arrived at the honour of bemg Abbessof our convent. She has none of thepedantry of devotion, though everyaction bespeaks the most conscientiousre6titu.de, and by her unafFecled po-lished manners, you would suppose K 2 LETTER

hert r

1O4 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OP BERTHA. 105f

journey, 'till I arrived within a fewLETTER XXII. miles of the Alps.

EDWARD PERCIVAL, ' " Sacre *'«<•'" was the pious ejacula-tion that awakened me from my reve-

TO siR FRANCIS COLVILLE. rjc, just in time to experience the un-Mto y«« ,„-, comfortable sensation of my carriage

oversetting at the bottom of a mostAFTER leaving the convent and my tremendous mountain. « Hallo '••charming Laura I little cared what be crjed ^ •cameof me. ThemostunaccounUb, ^ ,, ^ m/astonibhedapathy seized all my facult.es, and I ^began to think that there was witc^ ^ ^ > Bcraft in the very chmate! 1 w, ote you ^ from hjs Bn(j b Pa few lines from Geneva, and then perpendicular direction. •• Ma foithrew myself into my carriage, most Monsieur, mm at ,i impatient.'" " Im-perfeSly at the mercy of my grow mg ^ , nclal ' „postillion-equally md.Serent whether not fwhe ' £I was travelling to the gay reg.ons of >it »t tomelodious Italy, or ha.ten.ng to de- lflt ^ ^"otBtruaion, amidst the eternal snows of ^ > K you »_'< ZfMont Blanc! With th.s.torpor o, ^ ^ J> ***,-fascination, or apathy n w t a « still ,aying „„ groun<J> „ fe

you please to call it, 1 pursued i attend™, tout ira bi,n dans im instant •"J0ur" -' K 3 yet

106 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA, 107

yet I perceived no chance of any effort which had escaped the catastrophe,on his part; therefore I began to un- Thus, almost driven to despair, andfaften the harness, or rather the cord- seeing no prospecl of repose for thatage, that enthralled the miserable a>ni- night, I was suddenly relieved by themals. At length, with some diffi- sight of an English post-chaise; and,culty, my intoxicated, and'only com- to my great joy, I instantly recognizedpanion, (for my servant was gone for- my old acquaintance, Sir Robert Lit-\vardtoorderfresh horses), quitted his tleworth. Never was the saying, thathorizontal position, and after disen- " a friend in need is a friend indeed!*'gaging himself from his enormous more completely verified than in theboots, set down quietly on a bank to present instance. My guide now be-regale himself with a pinch of snuff; came wonderfully diligent, and onthen, gathering up the fragments of seeing me open the door rf Sir Ro-his broken pipe, he exclaimed, w i th a bert's chaise, exclaimed, with infinitesignificant shrug, "Patience!" All consternation, " et moi Monsieur f"—this time my carriage lay with the floor By this time Sir Robert's servants, andtowards the sky! Night approached, the two postillions who drove him, hadand we had yet a stupendous moun- replaced my shattered conveyance ontain to pass over. I could, with infi- its proper equilibrium. •' Alton'snite satisfaction, have demolished the Monsieur, tout est pret!" said he, withlean, lazy varlet, who, with all the the most zealous alacrity,—" No, no,sang froid imaginable, drawing out his Man ami" answered I, " you maysmoking apparatus, began to reple- follow at your leisure ; I shall proceedm&h the miserable remnant of his pipe,, with this gentleman,"

which My


My servant, surprised at our delay, clean coarse cloth, over a board, whichnow came hastening towards us. I she called a table, and which she lux-committed my chaise and luggage to uriously decorated with a smokinghis care, and pursued my route with poulatde, an omelet, and a most exqui-Sir Robert. site sallad ! To these she added a bot-

tle of good Bin gundy, and another ofWe found it impossible to travel Petit Vm Bourdeaux.

many leagues that night; the road\ as as rugged as a stone quarry ; and, ] believe> had not the convent beenthough the post-house was scarcely imprinted on my shattered brain, Ifour miles distant, we were more than should have made a most delightfultwo hours in reaching it. meal! Nannette was as pretty as a

neat dapper figure, a clear dark corn-It was near midnight when we ar- plexion, fine teeth, and two dazzling

lived. A flaming hearth, ban vin, and black eves C0llld make her! But she

a pretty paysanne for our attendant, had none of the vivacity so peculiar towere fascinations too powerful for Lit- }ier countrywomen. "What is thetleworth to withstand. « Percival," matter, Nannette," said Littleworth,

\said he, " We lodge here this night by " that ?ou look so s»d ?—Have youjdl that's delicious." I was not sorry lost y°ur love ?" " Ou*» Monsieur ; heto hear the proposition, when I recol- is gpne to FIorence> to live with a

leered my recent misfortune. >'ounS Italian marquis, and I fear Ibh^ll never see him again/' said she,

In a few minutes Nannette spread a » with

clean

110 SHRINE OF BERTHA.SHRINE OF BERTHA. Ill

with a sigh, that would have kindled aflame in a bosom of adamant. penury and simplicity could make it.

" She shall go with us, by Jupiter,"" Will you go with me, and seek said Lktleworth . « the embellish-

him ?" resumed Littleworth.—— ments of fashion will render her trespiquante; and I shall swear, on my re-

" Avec plaisir, Monsieur; for I have turn to England, that she is a Swissno reason to remain here any longer ; marquise, who has left an illustriousmy mother died three days since, and family to follow my fortune." - Yes,my father-in-law is very unkind to and to make her own," said I,me; he is more out of humour than gravely,ever, on account of the accident whichhappened while he was driving you ""ill y°u S° Nannette?" conti-this evening; but I hope you are not nued *' " and Ieave y0"** poor .fatherangry," darting her fine sparkling without a ^companion?" "Ablnumeyes upon me. Had I not so recently n™> ium' c

rePhed she hastily ; whileleft Laura Fitz-Owen, I will honestly a t0rrfu

fc oft tears evinced the tender-

confess I should have felt their brilli- neSS °f her heart

ancy, which was not lost upon SirRobert, who made ample amends for ôor Nannette! if some of ourmy apparent apathy. "T"? dames had sensibility,

3 B and simplicity of of soul, the veriest„ . , . , libertine would become their nrospNannette told us all her history; , . Ie ine'r Pr°se-

c vce » and the eloquence of feelinrrand an interesting one it was, as far as ^ cul-c or ree»ng^ penury wou1^

H2 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHtkiNE OF BERTHA. 11$*

would triumph over the most unprin- ons, in which, to enlighten the mind,cipled opinions. is to render !t wretched.

Sir Robert, on the following day, On we went; Sir Robert as thought-with great reluctance, relinquished his less as ever; and your friend Edward,plan of taking Nannette with him. As " triste comm un bonnet de nuit!»we stepped into the carriage, after atleast a dozen " ban voyages," with the Apropos—I suppose by this timemost perfeft naivete,—" M-ssieurs," you are dozing over my long letter;said she, " when you arrive at Flo- therefore I conclude it, by wishingrence, have the goodness tell Pierre you the most agreeable reveries.Mortange, that Nannette is alive, andas constant as ever—that she waits for Bon Soir,his return with impatience, and thinksof nothing but him all the day long." EDWARD PERCIVAI,.

The postillion, with his vile clack-ing whip, prevented my saying,« Sweet simple offspring of nature!how shall I find thy Pierre Mortange,in such a city as Florence ?

The interruption was, perhaps, afortunate one; for there are situati-

ons* voj.,i. L LETTER

114 SHRINE OF BERTHA.SHRINE OF BERTHA. 115

she is in danger of signing Spinster forLETTER XXIII. some time to come.

SIR FRANCIS COLVILLE, As Lady Cavil stays here for the re-mainder of the summer, my sojourn

TO EDWARD PERCIVAL. ... t , fl , ..will not be of long duration.Cbarleton Priory, June 179-.

" SHE comes! and blessed are the Our prospea is rather less drearydeaf!" Whither shall I fly from that tha" ifc was' on account of the arrivalscreaming pea-hen, Lady Cavil ? A of Lord and Lady Moreland and Missfew evenings since, before 1 returned Winterton. The Peer is a perfeftfrom Windsor, where I had dined, ^rd %/%—married to the daughtershe arrived, with her moveable mas- of a rich merchant in Crutched-friarsquerade warehouse. This woman —a woman who did not require thehaunts me like « th« foul fiend I" I recommendation of fifty thousanddon't Jcnow which is the most tire- pounds, to render her truly fascinat-some, the boistrous tendresse of Lady Ca- *ng- She really is deserving of a morevil, or the romantic rage which Court- amiable companion, than her green-ney has taken for Sophia Cleveland, her eyed monster of an husband. Do notEltve, who is really a very pretty good suppose, by my admiration of the wife,humoured little girl, and will have a and unfavourable, though just, cha-large fortune; but while she is guard- ra6ter of her lively lord, that I haveed by that desperate dragon, I fear entrusted my liberty to the blind ur-

she chm whom you obey; at least, if IL 2 have,

116 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRIN£ op BERTHA; m

have, Lady Mordand is not the object Nothing can be more striking thanof my passion. the contrast between this formal fasci-

„ , . . , . , nating maiden of fifty -five, and LadyAlas! who can behold Jtoiucre- fc have

tia Winterton with ,nd,fference r Of acquainted since the arrival of the for-whose majestic and most unpliant mer at (he p R, mter_form, 'tis impossible to give you a tain the most ^ hêd f^ £ach

more perfect idea, than by referring other.you to Hogarth's admirable pifture ofMorning, with the old maid going to Lady Cavil a]wayg proposes CasinQ

church! Now for a description of my on Sunday evenings! when Miss Lu-heroine—she tCC i§ " tall,"^ resem- cretia is immediately seized with herUing a maypole in every thing, ex- symptomatic restlessness, and, risingcept its blooming appendages! She from her chair, generally takes a book,too has " a profusion of beautiful to avoid being requested to participatehair/' which J dare say she will exhi- in, what she calls, « profane amuse-bit—when she unpacks her luggage! ment." While the tables are prepar-Her eyes are also like gems; but I am ing, deep groans, and contemptuousrather afraid they incline more to the glances, introduce the prelude to ouremerald than the sapphire! She has entertainment; and finally, when thethe bloom of Hebe! but it has unfor- cards are opened, she darts out of thetunately mistaken its natural resi- room, saying at the door, « I sha!lJence, and fixed upon her nose, in- quit this mansion of abomination,stead of her cheek J whlle I am safe;" and after ordering

Nothing - L 3 her

118 SHRIKE OF BERTHA. 6*£at«E OF BERTHA, 81$

her chaise to be got ready, and her completely fascinated your mind, as toshawl and calash to be fetched, is, inspire it with such fervent admira-not without many entreaties on the tion ? I confess I should be infinitelypart of Sir Hervey, persuaded to re- amused to see Edward Percival inturn and amuse herself with knotting love! for I think that must be, of allor cutting paper, 'till supper is an- things in the world, the most ridicu-nounced; immediately after which, lous! though you are not the onlyLady Cavil proposes a glee, as Lady Englishman who has departed fromMoreland and Sophia sing remarkably this country a perfect Lothario, and•well. This generally drives the lovely returned a complete BenediSt.Lucretia into a fit of frenzy, 'tillCourtney sooths her, by declaring, Write to me very soon, and Jet mefor she is extremely deaf, that we are hear that you have got another brokenchaunting the loyal chorus of " God head, for the Poet says,save the King," in which she imagines.. . i , . ... « Misftrtusft serve to malt us wist?*that she gears a part, while we aresinging, " Come live with me, and be Farewell! Your's,my love!"

F. COLVILUE.But to banish this dry pubjec"i, foramore agreeable one, let me ask, andat the same time acquaint you that Iexpert to be informed with candour,who this amiable cousin is, that has so

completely LETTER

J2O SHRINE OP BERTHA. SltfUNE QF ftf&TffA. 121

I seftecl: with horror on tjbe drearyLETTER XXIV. fountains which I have passed, when

I call to my remembrance Jthe splen-EDWARD PERCIVAL, dour of the varying an4 luxuriant

Trt iLTAnA.^ landscape, which encircles Lausanne.TO MADAME ST. BRUNO. FJorence h fl superb city_Us fr^

MADAM, Verona, July i79-. tions are inconceivable! But I willTAKE the earliest opportunity to ex- nOt attemPt to exert my feeble *»>«>*

press my gratitude for the innumera f°r descriPtion> to one who is herselfble civilities which I experienced from d W*h CVery ac(luirement that

you, and my lovely cousin, when my T1""7 maSnificence> or the majestyindulgent stars directed my feet to- £f.nllndj can bestow!wards your mansion of virtue and re-pose—where the revolving seasons are Ma3[ ** my dear Madam, flattermarked with the conscious delight of myself with the hope, that you willmental serenity! employ your fair friend, Miss Fitz-

Owen, for I dare not suppose that youtfe assured, Madam, that while I am would condescend to waste your pre-

pursuing my journey, the most inte- cious moments in answering me, toresting objects glide unheeded before acknowledge the receipt of my letter,nie, for my mind, absorbed, and my and to give me favourable tidings offancy delighted, hovers round the your health,romantic pile of which you are the ex-emplary guardian. ! shall, de tm$ en intTU(Je

your

SHRINE OF BERTHA. 123•122 SHRINE OF BERTHA.

your goodness, and entreat that you PTTTTP YYi7will accept (with my most affeaionate 1-JS.n liii AAV.regard to my lovely cousin) the re-

«J * , • c- EDWARD PERCIVAL,speclful devoirs of,TO SIR FRANCIS COLVILLE.

Madam, „ _, ,rerotta, July 179-.

Your very obedient, ôv tax me as f*>™™Uy as thoughyou supposed that I were really in love.

Humble servant, 1 assure you I cannot flatter myselfwith the idea that I possess so much

EDWARD PERCIVAJ.. virtue. You ask, " who, and whatthis amiable cousin is ?" As to whoshe is, I can inform you no further,than that I was taught to understand,that 1 had a very beautiful, but distantrelation, in a convent at Lausanne.What she is, my heart well knows,and I have before described ! but takenotice, I am yet free—I have no Lu-cretia Wintertons to seduce my senses.No——believe me I can laugh to scornthe menaces of your little blind mo-narch. But I will not expatiate on the

subjeclLETTER

l§4 SRMStf <^ iMllSA1.' SHRINE OF BERTHA, 125

subject at present—for " no disguigecan conceal fcwe, whfre it is; nor T FTTPO wxrrfeign it, where it is not!" And in Llil FLR XXVI-my opinion, where we cannot fight LAURA pITZwith honour to ourselves, there is somemerit in making a creditable retreat. TO SOPHIA CLEVELAND.

Lausanne, July, 179..Ydors, A1 LETTER has at length arrived from

i- pfeRdVAL. Edward. He is at Florence, that gayand luxurious city. 'He will doubtlessfind infinite sources of amusement_such as will entirely obliterate fromhis memory the monastic shades in\\ hich I find little delight, except thatwhich proceeds from ruminating onhis perfections. Would to heaven Ihad never seen him. I should like toknow how long he remains in I ta ly ;and by what route he returns to Enff-land. b

Belinda \Varton k, I believe, morethan half captivated by the graces of

LETTER Mr< Pcrcival! Sjie Îks of nothingM else

12(5 SHRINE OF BERTHA, SH,RINE OF BERTHA. 127

else. I wish that she would not tor- any alliance for his nephew ? I Ship-ment me with her nonsensical partia- pose he looks forward to rank and for.lity. This is the first instance in tune< i am sure he deserves everywhich I ever found her confidence im- blessin^that either can bestow,pleasing ; but it appears to me sochildish, so ridiculous, to fall in love i stjH pay my evening visits to theat first sight; so like the heroine of a ojd chapel, which I have named theromance, and so opposite to the rules SHRINE OF BERTHA. A dear enchant-of good sense and reason, that I am ing nightingale has built his nest nearalmost angry with her for displaying the spotj and therej at the approachsuch a symptom. of eyery txviijght> « It's sad song

mourneth well." The flowers I plant-Amiable Edward ! my too charmed, spring up every day, and the ivy

ing cousin! I have read his short letter that hangs in woven clusters, extendsan hundred times; 'tis full of traits, jts canOpy to preserve their openingcharafleristic of his polished mind. I beauties,hope he wil l write again soon, andwish that the la%s of propriety would YOU cannot imagii. ' ow manyauthorize my answering his letter, pleasing melancholy hours I pass atbut my respected monitress, Madame my favourite shrine. I fly thither theSt. Bruno, says, I cannot so far over- moment those allotted to study arestep the bounds of decorum. elapsed, and employ the rest of the

evening within the walls of my retreat.Has Lord Litchfield yet thought -of Belinda sometimes assists me in the

a"y M 2 pious«

128 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SMRINE OF BERTHA. 129

pious office of decorating the turt. l often contemplate the miniatureWe have entirely removed the fVag- presented to me by Madame St. Bruno.ments, and Etieime has heaped them Nobody here can tell whom it was in-in the form of a square, as a bulwark tended to represent; and probablyto guard its treasure from vulgar mo- that secret never wil1 transpire,lestation. JTis astonishing to see howbeautifully romantic the ruin is be- Summer is now far advanced. Icome, and how neatly we have ar- be£in to reflea how l sha11 Preserve

ranged the lowly grave of the unfor- m7 hallowed shrine from the blaststunate Bertha. I have once solicited and fury of tempestuous skies. I shallMadame St. Bruno to visit it, but she Srieve to relinquish my hours of medi-declined the invitation with a torrent tation- l must c°ntrive some methodof tears! I have entreated all the to enclose the spot 'till the nextelder nuns, particularly Claudine La- spring,val, my greatest favourite, to give me „ rhere shall the morn her earliest tevs bestow>the history Of her, Whose remains ill- « There the first roses of the year shall blow."terest me so deeply; but they say no-thing more, than that she was a pen- How different are y°ur occupationssioner at the convent, and for some from mine! Whlle ôu are smilin£ in

unknown reason destroyed herself by the brilliant assembly, I am chaunt-poison ! She was wonderfully beau- inS holy songs-while you are fancy,tiful, young, and accomplished, of a inS a masquerade dress, I am musingmelancholy disposition, delicate frame, over the Sreen sod> which conce^sand of a too sensible turn of mind.

I often

130 SHRINE OF BERTHA* SHRINE OF B2RTHA. 151

the dust of the ill-fated Bertha!—while LETTER XXVH.

" i ••< •" The sun with parting rays" Gilds the long grass, that hides her silent bed!" HENRY COURTNEY,

Alas! Sophia, I cannot restrain my To EDWARD PERCIVAL.tears, when I reflect, that the form cbaritoa Prkry, Jufy\j^.which ojice possessed youth, beauty, SUSPEND thy propensity to ridicule,and sensibility, lies freezing beneath and jisten> perhaps for the last time,my feet, in the long, long night of to the despair of thy friend,oblivion !-~What does it mean ? Whatis this sleep of death ? Yes, Edward, to my despair! but I

do not repine, indeed I do not, I amI shall write again in a post or two. proud of niy chains, when I reflea

how few are worthy to wear them,Adieu/ dear Sophia. Believe me to wear them for Sophia Cleveland!

Your very sincere and Talk nQt of Laura Fitz.Owen_she_, _. „ * is an ethiope to my Sophia, Mine did

affeaionate friend, j say ? ^ Edward_no^ she ig not

my'Sophia—Sir Francis Colville is theLAURA FITZÔWEN. happy mortai for ^^hom she wastes the

midnight hour in tears. She is underLETTER the influence of Lady Cavil—he is rich!

he

13* SHRINE OF BERTHA. SH!UNE OF BERTHA. 13S

he is noble! but he shall repent thehour, wherein he became the rival of . ™,.™ v vtririCourtney. LEI 1ER XXV1IJ.

HENRY COURTNEY,Write to me soon—very soon, I

-. , J ' TO SOPHIA CLEVELAND.conjure you. If I am yet among the" sons of men," I will answer thee— MAY every event in life prove as fa-If I am " food for worms," Colville vourable to your wishes, as that whichcan tell my story. js about to release you from the

wretched being who is now addressingFarewell! you. Do not, lovely Sophie*, imagine

that my soul, even in its tiistraclion,HENRY COURTNEY. can harbour a thought to your disad-

vantage : you are misguided by thepersuasions of the most designing andartful of human beings. Sir FrancisColville is affluent, and you are underthe influence of Lady Cavil, Mydeath will release you from persecu-tion.

It is now midnight: the clear moon,which in happier moments I have saoften delighted to contemplate, hangs

LETTER over

134 SHRINE OP BERTHA, SHRINE OF BERTHA. 135

over the silent scene in meek and aw-ful splendour The grey towers of LETTER XXIXthe Priory, cast their long shadowsacross the path which leads to the sa- -SIR FRANCIS COLVILLE,cred assylum, where I am perhaps, .. , . . - t i t . TO EDWARD PERCIVAL.destined to rest for ever! I have wan-dered to the rising plantation which Cbarleton Prior^ MaJ> w-faces your window, I have watched A HE most ridiculous adventure hasthe faint light of the decaying embers occurred that ever embellished the an-which illumine your chamber. Sleep nals of chivalry.on, my Sophia, to dream of joy ; andif a sigh for me should steal through Yesterday morning, ere I had risenthy gentle bosom, repress not the tri- from my pillow, I received a challengebute, to him, who, in a few hours may from the meek, the sentimental Court-sleep, to wake no more! ney- When * had ^covered from my

astonishment at so strange and unex-Keep this letter—and when I am Pêd a breakfast, I enquired for this

moulderjng in my " long and last enraged Hannibal. My servant in-abode," if your eyes should glance ' formed me that Mr. Courtney hadover its contents, reflect on the obe- 1«itted the Priory at day-break, anddient submission, and unfortunate was (he believed) gone to London ;rvioeirm «f • but that he had left the note for me,fJ<f oJSIUlJj) vi

HENRY COUETNEY. an^ a message, that he should returnthe next morning before seven o'clock.

LETTER After

136 SHRINE OF BERTHA* SHRINE OF BERTHA. 137

After hesitating for some moments, «* words are superfluous ; I am readywhether I should treat the business as to attend you." I then asked him,a badinage, or sit down seriously to " if pens, pistols, or swords, were tosettle my worldly affairs, I determined, be the instruments of destruction ?" Ilike a reasonable fellow, to await his confess, Edward, I had not the small-arrival, and demand an explanation of est inclination to annihilate this sacredhis mysterious conduct. character. Vain were the efforts to

tranquilize his perturbed spirit; and asAt seven o'clock my formidable an- he was resolved to be pinked, or tore-

tagonist arrived, accompanied by one ceive the addition of an ounce of leadof those people who calmly retire to a to his most romantic brain, I followedrespeclful distance, and look on, while him; we took our ground; and as itve are shot at, under the title of was to indulge his caprice I went thLFriend ! ther> * even requested him to take the

first shot; upon which his raving fitOn being informed of Co- rtney's ar- returned—he said that trifling with his

rival, I went to him immediately: at despair was an additional insult. Wemy approach his eyes flashed fire, and then drew lots, and the honourable« each particular hair" seeming " to privilege of Man Slaughter devolvedstand on end," he rose, and with a "P™ Mr. Courtney—he fired—and—voice almost suffocated with rage, yet * thank my stars, I am here to relateaffeaing great calmness, enquired if I the adventure! Upon receiving hishad received his note, ! answered in shot> I discharged my pistol in the air.the affirmative, " Then, Sir/' said he,

" words VOL.I. N When

138' SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 139

When the danger was over our I expecl to see, in all the newspa-friends drew round us, as the dramatis pers, the most laughable account ofPersonse arrange themselves in battle our sanguinary rencontre,array at the end of an old comedy,each supposing himself the Hero of " Last week a duel was fought be-the piece. tween Sir F—— C——, Bart, and

( the Rev. Mr. C——: After the usualI was, at the time that I ventured ceremony of firing in the air had

my precious existence, ignorant of the taken place, the affair was amicablycrime for which the world of fashion adjusted, very much to the honour ofwas to lose its brightest ornament. both parties!'»

I find that jealousy was the cause of We are not gothic enough to fightCourtney's resentment, and of Sophia "P to the knees in water, like thoseCleveland, for whom I should as soon renowned heroes, Bruce and Sack-think of entering the lists as for the ville; no, we polished youths ofCorsican Fairy, or a Virginia Night- the eighteenth century find it quiteingale! No, no, Edward, thesentimen- sufficient to encounter one element attal sublimity of Miss Cleveland is per- a time.fedUy adapted to the grotesque gal-lantry of her despairing Courtney ! to But hold—if I expatiate any furtherwhom I beg leave to resign all my pre- "P°n our dread exploit, the ballad oftensions. " Chevy Chace" will become a mere

N 2 arietteI expe<5l


ariette to the modern ditty of CourtneyandColville! LETTER XXX.

jfadieu. LAURA FITZ OWEN,

, TO SOPHIA CLEVELAND.Yours truly,Lausanne, July, 179-.

FRANCIS coLViLi-E. JVlY dearest friend, I now experiencewhat I have often heard is the greatestdelight this sublunary state bestows,the felicity of unbounded confidence,the soothing intercourse of friendship,nourished by time, and sanctioned byconviction. 1 begin to doubt the sin-cerity of Belinda Warton ; I have no-consolation left but that which I hopefor in your sympathizing bosom.

You will from this melancholy'pre-face expect some intelligence of im-portance to my happiness--Dare 1 openmy palpitating heart?-- Dare I revealits inmost thoughts ?- -Dare I avow tothe gay, the thoughtless Sophia, that

LETTER

142 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 14%

all its hopes, all its fears, all its senti- allied to repose; but I have beheldments throng round the image of Ed- Edward Percival, and--every pros-ward Percival. Pe& of tranquility is vanished. I did

not think that sorrow could pervadeBlame not my folly, persuade me the gloom of a cloister, where all is

not to relinquish the only idea that tranquil,renders life supportable: there is adegree of satisfaction in thinking of Yet the mind which has been culti-him that surpasses all my ideas of fe- vated under the observing eye of Ma-j;city. dame St. Bruno, cannot fall into an

error; it cannot cherish an idle ro-I have no motive for this confession, mantic passion, for a man who per-

no hope of ever again beholding him ; haps remembers not that such ayet may I not be permitted to admire wretched being exists,him in silence ? and lament that fatewhich separates me from him, perhaps I have examined my own heart, and...for ever! I shall never quit this so- dare trust its purity; I have rumi-litude; I shall never behold the happy nated in silence, and without a blush,shores of Britain. on niy attachment to the most amiable

of men. The result of my researchesThe seclusion in which lam condem- is a full and dispassionate conviaion

ned to slumber through the rest of that he is most worthy of my affeaions.my days, might have been marked withthat torpid resignation which is nearly Affeaions! what am I writing ? a

allied solitary

144- SHRINE OP BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 14J

solitary orphan, a stranger to my ori- commends the cultivation of hopes be-gin, a dependent upon the bounty of yond the grave. What can she mean ?a distant relation ; without fortune, I think this monastic seclusion__iswithout rank, without attraftions to notto be—eternal! I am not,I trust,claim the notice of such an object. Is a destined viclim to the superstitiousit not madness to think of him ? gloom of religious rigour-there was a

time- and that not long since, when IOh! Sophia, I am cherishing a poi- might have borne such fln -dea with

son in my heart which will destroy its patience;——but then——I had notvital source, and extinguish all the rays seen——j had not conversed with___of hope that glistened on my paths of Edward Percival!——Oh! beauteouspeace and solitude: the prospeft be- unfortunate Bertha! I now more thanfore me is terrible to contemplate ! ever sympathize with thy shade, and

wherever it wanders, envy its releaseIn less than a year I shall attam the from migery . happy should l ^ ^

age of twenty-one ; 1 shall then know share th moss.clad sepuichrethe secret of my birth, and the pros-peas of my future existence. Madame „ The world forgettingj by ,St. Bruno often mentions that periodvdth tearful eyes, and never without j am ashamed tQ meet our venerabje

charging me to prepare for an event Confessor; the unftity of Pere Leo.most seriously interesting. She takes nard Wou3(j inflia fche seyerest penanceinfinite pains to alienate my thoughts on njy fault. h -t ft foult tQ admireifrom the pleasures of this life* and re- to adore a deservin objea ? If jt

commends j fear

146 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BEKTHA. 147

I fear I shall never cease to be cul-pable! LETTER XXXI.

Adieu,SIMON GALLIAKD,

My dear Sophia, TO THE R£V MR COURTNEY

Ever affectionately your's, LitcbjieUAbbey, jmet i79..REVERED SIR,

LAURA FITZ-OWEN.1 AM honoured with my Lady's de*niands to reform you, how much shewas apprised and defended at a personof your clarified profession., assumingto devolve yourself in a dispute, ex-pressly when you know how my La-dy's delicate institution will be ar-ranged on account of her extreme so-litude for your welfare.—The news ofyour fight brought on an accession ofhistorical fits, from which she is notyet discovered.

She further bequests your emergentv «.>r"rT7t> return ta Litchfield Abbey, or thatLETTER you

US SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 149

you will design your situation as herdomestical chaplain. LETTER XXXII.

I am,LAURA FITZ-OWEN,

Sir1 ' TO SOPHIA CLEVELAND,

Your mOSt Obliging,. Lausanne, July, 179-.

,, _ . «<LA vie n'est qwun Songe!^ are weHumble Sarvant, ~ ' f. .not then permitted to anticipate such

SIMON GALLIARD. prospecls as will contribute to our hap-piness ? Are we not authorized in che-rishing those delightful phantoms thatsometimes gild our short slumberinghours of existence ? Heaven knowsthey seldom visit the feeling heart;and when they do, they bring withthem such surprise, that before weare familiar with their charms they arevanished.

Few are my pleasures, and those ofso melancholy a nature, that nonewill envy them. I often endeavour to

LETTER VOL.I. O amuse

150 SHRINE OF BERTHA. 8fJRINE ^ ^ ^

amuse myself with those pursuits by guished the window of tment

custom adapted to the female mind I F for amomentj bade nie believehave a little knowledge of painting in that he had not behdd eyen trfflminiature, and you shall one day or „„ ^K^XJ. -*u * *• i

t, ' .., T, „ . , j r an object without emotion ; not recol-other see the likeness I have finished or UXK™ *u * •*. - -1.1 r . .

T . , . . , T ,, , lecting that it was impossible for him tomy cousin. I don t think I could have v««,,, -,n „ u * * r ,t , .,,. T. ^ , TJ T , , i^ 11 .know m what part of the building Ipainted Pere Leonard half so well. c],_f T , . ., . . . . . «, ,Jr slept. I shut the casement, but——Oh 1

Sophia, how shall I describe my sensa-Often do I contemplate it with a tions> when , perceived> on itg sma]1

mournful satisfaftion. I have been at o6lagon pane^ the fo]lowi WQrds wr.^the farm-house where Edward lodged ; ten with ft diamond-1 have seen the chamber where he wasconfined;-! examined every corner „ j swear efcernal fidel i(f

of it. A small table, with a looking- adored Laura Fitz.Owen." E. P.glass, stood before the little casement:here, thought I, did he behold with ! instantly recolleaed having seenindifference, those features which awak. him wear a brilliant hoop ring • Ien every other heart to the tenderest thought it looked like a token of femaleinterest, affeclion, and the idea was by no means

a pleasing one; however, it was thenI opened the window to see if it soon forgotten,

commanded a view of our con vent, andthe blush of conscious pleasure rushed I would have given all I possessed toover my cheek, when I plainly distin- have obtained that little pane of glass

£uished 02 I did


I did not dare break it, lest I shoulddo it aukwardly, and deface the sen- to smile> " l never saw any thing sotence. While I was considering how ridiculous." « Let us break it," saidto aa, Belinda arrived. « I watched Belinda, « Madame St. Bruno wouldyou across the fields," said she, « from be very muck displeased, 1 assure you,my chamber window. What romantic lf she heard of such a thing ; and shenonsense brings you here? Is your often comes here to Bee old Terese.--beau cousin returned, or are you con- She lifted her hand, I shrieked, Itemplating the dear miserable apart- know not why. « Pray don't, Belinda,"xnent where he reposed so often ?" She said ** " l h»ve a diamond at the con-uttered this with a sarcastic smile, that vent- which Madame St Bruno gavewounded me to the soul; but all my rae> ** ™H cut the glass, and we willattention was employed in keeping her come and steal it to-morrow." » Non-from observing the pane. She per- sense, never mind breaking it," re-ceived my anxiety, and pulling me Plied she, " I will pay old Terese foraway said, «« Laura, what is there to the I»ne ;'» and taking up the boltbe seen so curious that you will not which lay upon the window, she shat-suffer me to approach the casement ? *«*<* it into fifty pieces.Oh! here I have it; very tender in- I could scarcely support myself Ideed! I suppose Mr Percival wrote t} shouldivînted nd^his vows upon this brittle composition ^Jj elmdato shew that they may be easi y ^^ fcy ^ ^ thebroken." I was mortified to the heart. nie >« Very likely," said I, endeavounng ^ ^ ^ Jj»

O 3 my

154 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA> Uj

my friend, why was I born to endure gentle accents of consolation are un-the curse of sensibility ? known.

All the way home I could scarcely I shall go again in search of any trea-suppress my tears. Belinda, though sure that may bear the name of Edward,she has the best heart in the world,Seemed to enjoy my agitation, While " Oh! name for ever sad, for ever dear jby her childish vivacity and foolish " SUll breathed in sighs, still usher'd With a tear."

remarks, she almost provoked me to AdieUj Sophia^ bdieve meânger.

Yours faithfully,Early the next morning I stole

out of the convent, and flew to the LUARA FITZ-OWEN.farm; on my searching among theflowers beneath the window, I foundall the precious fragments, and haveso arranged them, as to be able toread the whole sentence, \%hich I do anhundred times a day. You will smileat my childish confession ; but I darewrite to you, that which I should trem-ble to utter before the holy cell of ouraustere Pere Leonard; to whom the

gentleLETTER .

SHRINE OF BERTHA. 157U6 SHRINE OP BERTHA* *°'

I have not yet seen Sophia. I amimpatient to meet her once more—and

LETTER XXXII[. yet——* w*stl to Protra& the inter-*"* view, for I am conscious of having in-HENRY COURTNEY, jured her, by my unjust suspicions.—

TO EDWARD PERCIVAL. Would ifc not be êtter to quit this

Cfcrtft. Pncr,, >/„ ,7f . f"*' ^ Whlch ™e™S l sh™Id> 1 AM convinced, for the first time in haf rec°V^ ^ndering senses,my life, thatl have been ta blame.- and appease the anger of Mrs. Fercival.Mv suspicions were groundless, and,I fear I appeared perlaiy ridiculous. f ^V'1 am fso ved>——J %i rear, dFF ^ j- from s]avery...but j mugt write fcQ SQ_

I have received a command to return fij* once more- ! will reproach herto Litchfield Abbey; but as it was for her inhumanity, and then bid theto Litchtieiom y - ungrateful girl adieu for ever!conveyed to me by a tmra person, i «shall answer the summons by the most Yourssovereign contempt. Mrs. Percival i& 'now on a visit to Lady Littlefigure, at H£NRy couilTNEy>Sans Sixsous, where I should be ac-counted a most superfluous animal—Pharoahand his host are the only sa-cred characters admitted to the honourof a sitting in that community,

I have LETTER

158 SHRINE OF BERTHA* SHRINE OF BERTHA. 1£9Oh ! Sophia, could you examine my

i FTTFR YXX1V heart> While 'lt is aS°nized with fearLET 1 ILK AXXl V, and tenderness-could you but knowLAURA FITZ-OWEN, the siShs'the tears*l offer up to hea-

ven, for his safety, you would pity me.TO SOPHIA CLEVELAND. J r * "IC*

Lausanne, June 179-. The SHEPHERD Boy, on yonder mountain's crest,

A i j 4. T „.» Chaunts his rude carol, to the moraine eale•COURIER yesterday arrived at Lau- Or markS) w!th tranqiiil gT^sannne, with the intelligence that an Pale twilight's shadows stealing o'er the vale,earthquake has been severely felt in thevicinity of Naples. Oh! Sophia, Per- <Lunt tn 1

unconsfus f reP°se'vii.imi.jrv r i- count the long tedaous hours, and weep and siah iCiVal is there—perhaps he has perished! While my sad heart no tender solace knows, 'I am alarmed most seriously— 1 am af- Sdve the f°nd i^pe, to see thee once,—^d die.flicled beyond expression I Oh, EOWARD , when this fading form shall free2e,

Beneath the hallowed turf for ever laid ;1 knOW not how I Shall Obtain ail- Whi'e o'er my bosom moans the midnight breeze,

thentic information. There is little So ^ ^doubt Of the dreadful fafl ; but the ex- I'll boast the prouder bliss .-TO DIE FOR 'THEE .tent of its mischief is not yet ascer-tained. I shall not wish to live, if my * conjure you to be secret in regardEdward is no more. My Edward— to whatever I write, for should thisno—he never will be mine. So blest, unaccountable weakness of mind beso mild a fate, will never be that of known to Edward Percival,-.evenyour unfortunate friend. were jt possible that he could offer me* Oh! his

IQQ SHRINE OP BERTHA. SHRINE OP BERTHA. 161

his hand, with the sanflion^ of hisfriends, 1 would not receive it! Mo. LETTER XXXV.Sophia; Laura Fitz-Owcu can nevercondescend to accept an heart, which THE SAME TO THE SAME.is not the voluntary offering of its pos- LausaflM, May ,79..sessor. MY mournful heart is released from

its painful state of suspense. We haveMy delicacy shrinks at the bare idea. received another letter from Edward—

Adieu! I am overwhelmed with ap- he ^ thank heaverij gafe and happy jprehension.

The earthquake was not productiveYours, of any very dreadful calamity ; but the

LA«KA mz-oww. f ™ h)as dri:?n ?lmost e™y E"s^•|jAU family from Naples.

The want of society (for English-men only travel to associate with theirown countrymen, wherever they canmeet them) will probably hasten mycousin's departure. I hope he will re-turn by Lausanne. I shall be eager tosee if he is altered by his travels.

* trTTTTt? Madame St. Bruno has several timesLL1 L&i*- V01. pVOLl '• ^ remarked

*<32 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OP BERTHA. • 1(53

remarked a change in my manner; This affair interests the whole con.and often seriously questions me about vent A11 the sisters suflrer the mostthe state of my mind. I do not know poignant distress at the idea of herthat I am more melancholy than usual. quitting them. She is the very best ofPerhaps my constant visits to the women ; her mind is the picture ofshrine, render me pensive, and give what her person must have been;me the appearance of mournful inquie- evei7 thing that is lovely and interest-tude. No other circumstance can pro- inS ! She is vet only *« her forty.fifthduce such an effecl ; at least none that year, and still very beautiful. ThoughI am conscious of. she seems to be the only Perso« uncon-

scions of her attractions, they are ac-Madame St. Bruno has some idea of knowledged by every one—they are

soliciting permission to remove from beheld with affeaionate adoration by,Lausanne to Germany, her nativecountry. The abbess of a convent near LAUKA ™*-OWEN.Vienna lately died, and great interestwill probably obtain the situation forour amiable superior. The order isthat of the Saint Esprit, the highest inour religion, and only allowed to thosewho are of illustrious families. I shallcertainly accompany her, though Ishall almost break my heart at leavingthe ashes of my beloved Bertha. VTTvn

This V 2 LETTER

J64 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE Op BERTHA. 16<5

tate whether I ought to open it; whenLady Moreland, good humouredly smil-

LETTER XXXVf. ing," said, « Take it, Miss Cleveland;pray don't mind me; I am very dis-

so-PHIA CLEVELAND, creet when entrusted with a secret."1 replied, that I was not conscious of

TO LAURA FITZ-OWEN. r . ,, „ . ,any secret Mr. Courtney could possi-Cbarleton Pray, August 17v-» bly have with me ; but that if she

would excuse my attending her, IDEAREST LAURA, ,, , . ' . .„ ,-. *- would, when she returned, gratify her

JVlY spirits are so agitated, that I can curiosity.scarcely proceed to g»ve you an ac-count of the last three days occur- , ^ to my chambcr wifch my

rences' letter; but before I could break the, ., _ seal, Lady Cavil burst open the door.

Yesterday morning, while I was prc- and wkh aH the toms of T

paring to accompany Lady Moreland exciaimed, « There, Miss! now I honeto our fiivourite hermitage, Mr. you are satisfied; Courtney and ColvilleCourtney's servant brought me the ^ Qut tQ ^ in letter I enclose, saying, that his master will haye enQ ^ ach

had commanded him to deliver it cau- yourself with, for the rest of your life ">tiously into my own hands. The singu- then throwjng hersdf into a ^ larity of receiving an epistle with such. appeared almost breathless with rageambiguous injunctions, made me hesi- p g ^

tate

166 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRmfi Qp BERTHA< ^

and fatigue I apprehended that she Moreland, Sir Hervey Wentworth, andwould faint, and my anxiety on her Sir Francis Colville-but no one elseiaccount roused my torpid senses from I had just strength sufficient to reel tothe stupor of surprise and despair. wards the bell, yet, before I could

reach it, I fell senseless to the groundI endeavoured to persuade Lady How long I remained in this situation*

Cavil to calm her troubled spirits, and I cannot tell, but when I recovered Iawait with patience the result of their perceived that my raving companionmeeting. I was answered only by the had quitted me, and consigned me tomost unworthy epithets, such as mon- the care of the old housekeeper, whomster! wretch ! barbarian! and a thou- I now remember, wanted me'to swal*sand others too shocking for me to re- low what she called " some of master'speat; though I am sorry to say, that fine spirits/' saying, « that it was allthey seemed perfeftly familiar to Lady over now, and as the gemmen wereCavil, whom I had never before seen parted, nothing worse could happen "in such a paroxysm of frenzy. Many Then I ventured to enquire if eitherhours came, and passed away, yet no was wounded. « No no " answeredone approached the chamber; all was my simple old attendant, «they beantsilent as death. none on em hurted—why, lord bless'ey,

I dares to say, they only went out forIn this dreadful state of uncertainty a bit of a frolic, to scare the ladies •

did I remain for four hours, when I besides, Muster Courtney be gonesaw from my window, returning, Lord, away to London.'*

Moreland, j wag

168 SHRINE OF BERTHA- SHRINE OF BERTHA. 16»

I w&s so overjoyed to hear of Court- Adieu, my dear friend. Believeney's safety, that her harangue soon me yours most affectionately,became tiresome and intruding. Itold her that I was much'better, and, SOPHIA CLEVELAND,after thanking her for her assiduity,requested that she would suffer me to Mr> Courtney is this instant return-rest 'till the evening. ed f I cannot conceive the cause of all

this mystery! I think his conduct hasI should like to know why Court- been extremelv rjdicuious.

ney has quitted the Priory so ab-ruptly, and without taking leave ofthe family.

Oh ! my dearest Laura, I onee flat-tered myself with the hope, that Imight, in your blissful habitation ofhumble virtue, forget the world andits vicissitudes. But I fear, that evento the peaceful sanctuary of the ill.fated BERTHA, my misfortunes wouldpursue me.

Adieu,

LETTER

170 SHKINE OF BERTHA. sfiRINE OF ^ ^

LETTER XXXVH.HENRY COURTNIiY, LETTER XXXIX.

TO EDWARD PERCIVAL.Reading, fwttoe at Noon. EDWARD PERCIVAL,

I LEFT Charleton Priory this morn- To HENRY COIJRTNEY.ine—applaud my resolution—congra-& rr J -, Florence, August 179-.tulate me on my escape from slavery. T , .. ,Y « A REALLY believe that my mother will

°UrS* HENRY COURTNEY. WritC mC ^"^ °f advke frOm the

other side the Styx ! I wish, my dearCourtney, that you would bribe good

LETTER XXXVIII. Do<5lor —— to say that writing isTHE SAME TO THE SAME. bad for the health.

Cbarkton Priary, twelve at Ntght.DEAR EDWARD, v i • i i ^ i.

I You have no idea what a disappoint-THOUGHT it most prudent to return ment .fc .^ when , for letterato the Pnory, than submit quietly to ^ tfae mQ expeaing some ten.Sir Francis Colville, and sufler him to der bm from enchanti tnertriumph in the idea of having driven of fche n ^ t<> .^ gme away ; besides, I recollefled that ^ tedious ^ Qf . preach_I had not taken leave of Sophia. about virtue^ momlit and ^^

Adieu! I know thou wilt commend nQmy . „ things^ thafc tQ heflr themmy wisdom in returning to face my named> haye made me tremble .„ buf.enemy. Yours truly, ! suppose those amiabie Oid virgins are

HENRY COURTNEY.. ê

172 SHRINE OP BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 1*73 *

the enlivening inmates of Litchfield solving, rAngloise, to attack the firstAbbey, I mean during the summer quiz we should encounter; but findingmonths, for when my mother returns nothing worthy the attention of suchto Cavendish-square, for the winter, I preux chevaliers, we agreed totry whatbelieve " My lady's not at home," amusement could be procured at thewould be the only salutation they Opera,would receive. Mrs. Percival informsme in all her letters, that I shall be as On entering the lobby, Sir Robert<f rich, as I am virtuous." Alas' most exclaimed, " this is clysium, by Ju-worthy Chaplain, what a dreary pros- piter!" then turning to me, asked ifpe<5t lies before me! I dared " queer St. Peter ?" But be-

fore I had time to answer, I saw myBut to efface the melancholy im- inebriated companion spring over the

pression this doleful subject has made bar where the money was received,upon my mind, I must relate to you and throwing a pinch of snuffinto thean adventure, which, though laugh- eyes of the astonished door-keeper,able at the time, was nearly produc- with one hand, with the other hetive of a very serious misfortune. snatched his well powdered penucca

off his head; then swinging it roundAfter dining with Sir Robert Little- his own, exclaimed, " this is the man-

worth, where, I confess, we were ra- ner in which we pay in England, mythcr too liberal in our sacrifices to the old genius." Ill-fated penucca! thyrosy god ; and, in this mirthful mood, misfortunes did not terminate here ;did We sally forth into the street, re- for, « thereby hangs a tale!" Alas!

solving VOL.I. Q %\hile

174 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA« ™

while he was swinging it in all direc- have found ] t ' " then raisinS myself ontions,' scattering around a cloud of m? knees> instantly produced the pre-powder, it slipped from his unsteady cious tr°Phy! A roar of l™S^rhand and flew, as if to seek protec- echoed thro the lobby> *hile the sable

tion from the •« pitiless storm/' against son of Esculapius conveyed his lovelyits own twin brother, which was then Partner in misfortune to her carriage,adorning the scientific sconce of a both exclaiming, with one accord,—grave old physician, who, I observed, " cbe bestla InSU™ '" * believe I shallwas also attempting to shoot the bar, 1ult Florence as soon as possible ; forthough in a more quiet way-(cbacuna l find' that ma cara »'««*«' thesajacon)—** though he had a presscnti- Povver of inflifting a mortal wound—mnt of the disgrace which would be- not with the arrow of the blind sonfall his black velvet suit. This un- of the 1'aphian divinity, but with thelucky coalition of caxons, excited uni- ^^ of a sharp-sighted Florentineversal entertainment. I began, how- Jl')0nt •ever, to think it unfair that the honestold door-keeper should lose his gala J'are well!wig by our frolic ; but in stooping torecover it, I lost my equilibrium, and * ours'measured my length on the ground.Still unwilling to relinquish my pur- I . D W A R D PFRCIVAI .suit, I continued my search, and seiz-ing the ermined pantoufle of an ancientItalian illustrissima, exclaimed, " I

have O 2 LETTER

176 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRIN£ op BERTHA> ]?7

lowed hands, it can be prodiu5Uve ofLETTER XL. no i]1 conse<luences. Oh! Percival,

death is mercy to the criminal who iscondemned. We look forward withHENRY COURTNEY, , ,. ... ^ , , loivvdra WltHdelight to the last sad prospeft, and

TO EDWARD PERCivAL. the sooner the scene of despair is ter-minated, the better.

Cbarkton Priory, August 179-.

I AM determined to put a period to I know you will laugh at me ; but Ithis wretched anxiety of mind; I had rather become the objeft of youradore Sophia Cleveland, and she knows ridicule than your pity ; and since Iit. 'Tis even better to despair, than have resolution to brave my danger Ito linger out an age of miserable im- trust a small portion of it will remain,certainty: this is the last trial, if she to enable me to endure the worst thatrefuses to listen to me, my mind is may happen. Farewell! Wish meniade up as to the consequences. success,

It is her constant custom to pass an Yours faithfully,hour every morning at the Hermitage,near the river; She generally arrives HENRY COURTNEY.before nine. I shall leave a letterthere to-morrow morning. As I donot mean to express her name in thesuperscription, if it falls into unhal-

lowed _Q 3 LETTER

17t$ SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 179

guided petulancy of Mr. Courtney,_ Y-^rpY,™ VT , who ought to have known you betterJLrL.1 1 H.K ALL ^tnan to have suspected you were capa-

LAURA FITZ-OWEN, ble of encouraging a rival. I shud-dered when I proceeded in reading

TO SOPHIA CLEVELAND. , ,. A , . , ., °your letter: a duel is to me the mostLausanne, August 179-. unnatural, ferocious, and outrageous

EVERY event which nearly concerns act that is sanctioned by the laws ofmy dear Sophia deeply interests me; society ; and when we consider howand I trust the certainty that I am often, by the mere trifling neglecT: ofready to participate your pains and childish etiquette, whole families are leftpleasures, will diminish the one, and to mourn out a long and painful sceneaugment the other. The SUPREME, of regret, owing to the mistaken sen-when he ordained this probationary sations of an irritable mind, I am al-scene for mortals, for purposes un- most tempted to rank duelling in theknown, strewed its paths with flowers list of unpardonable offences. Willand thorns alternately, but he gave us nothing less than murder satisfy thethe never-failing balm of friendship to rancour of revenge?heighten the enjoyments of his bless-ings, and to heal the miseries of his I often think of Edward Percival,severity! ! lament that you should and tremble lest any ill should befallhave been the cause, though the inno- him in the country where he is wast-cent one, of an event so serious as that ing a valuable existence ; for, after all,you mention; But I blame the mis- Italy has but few sources of improve-

guided ment,,

180 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OP BERTHA. 181

ment, except to the Virtuoso or Cog- companion. She is no longer rigid re-noscenti, in music or painting: I do speeding my hours of seclusion, or ap»not believe my cousin travels for either plication to study. By this means Iof those objects. The pleasures of ani afforded many opportunities of vi-Italy are suc"h as will corrupt his open siting the SHRINE of BERTHA, and I amhonest heart; and by the constant eager to embrace them, for the ap-scenes of deception before him, he proach of winter will oblige me to di-will become suspicious for ever after. minish my devotions: Yes, I may sayMy adorable Madame St. Bruno has fervent devotions! for I have wept andinspired my mind with this idea, I poured forth many a more sincerewish I dared communicate it to Ed- prayer for her than ever I did for my-ward. Would it not be an aft of friend- self- I am attached to the spot by theship, to guard him against duplicity ? most extraordinary instinft ; and when

I leave it, I resign every consolingWe have only received two letters h°Pe tiu l a£ain return- >Tis very

from him. Alas! he is more delight- singular that in the holyday of youthfully employed than in thinking of our ™v heart should indulge itself in thepoor monastery. most profound melancholy ! I think I

could pass all my days in the gloom ofI know not why, but Madame St. niy present habitation with pleasure—

Bruno is lately more attentive to me if—there did not exist——an Edwardthan ever; though she has always lov- Percival! Again returning to theed me with the tenderness of a mother; same obJe61!——Sophia, I blush at mybut now she treats me as a friend and own weakness,——I entreat you to

companion. torget


forget it: but if I cease to make himthe subject of my letters, they will bedull and uninteresting. I cannot LETTER XLII.write, I cannot think of any other be-ing. What malignant star prompted EDWARD PERCIVAL,Mrs. Percival to make him the bearer To SIR FRANCIS COLVILLE.of her letter ? I wish the happy couldbe content with their lot, without en- Rome> •%»"»«79-«deavouring to call forth the mournful WÊ have been entertained with arefleaions of the unfortunate. Why most charming earthquake at Naples-was I nursed in this dreadful obscurity, but as i jmd no inclination to becomeif it was not to be perpetual ? The an addition to the curiosities of angleam of delight I have for a moment Herculaneum, I thought it most pru-enjoyed, is like the sun-beam darting dent to make a precipitate retreat. Ithrough the iron lattice of a dungeon, fear l should not appear to advantageto awaken the wretch whose eyes were when dug Ollt of ruins an hundredaccustomed to darkness, and who years hence, with ancient non-descriptwanted not its lustre to mock his vas€s an(j verdigreased farthings; nei-afflictions. ther should I derive any consolation

Adieu, my dear Sophia, from the prospectus of my poor bonesdecorating the shelf of an antiquarian,

Yours affectionately, carefully hoarded in a modern antiquetirn of Derbyshire jietrefaction !!

LAURA fITZ-OWf.N.

LETTER A11


AH the English have quitted Naples; nation to take a circular route, andeach Mi Lor Anglois supposing that once more to contemplate the beautieseven the earthquake would respect his of Switzerland. I cannot return tonoblesse, and by visiting him first, al- England without again beholding mylow him precedency over all other na- Laura. Oh! Colville, she is too lovelytions! 'Tis impossible to persuade a flower to fade in the freezing bosommv consequential countrymen that we of monastic superstition. Does notare all earth alike; for they fancy thy dull imagination prompt thee tothat there is as much difference in make a pilgrimage to Lausanne?—the compound of human clay, as be- Yet—don't trouble yourself to traveltween a brown jug and a jar of Seve so far, for by heaven you shall notPorcelaine. see her< l wil1 caution Madame St.

V Bruno against an incendiary, \\hoIn six months more the term of my intends to burn her convent, and

barihhment will be completed, when I carry off the whole community ofshall return to England, (not much misanthropic maidens! Don't come,wiser than I left it) to pay my respefts for if * near that one Chevalier Col-to my mama, to shew my learning, vê* Anglois, is in the neighbour-forget what I have seen, and talked hood of Geneva, I shall fly from Na-of adventures which I never encoun- PIes with a legion of Lazzeroni totered! way-lay thee in the forest, and—

" lap thee in Elysium !" " Goodgen-I was commanded to make the tour tie youth, tempt not a desperate man/'

of Germany, but I feel a strange incli- for such y°« w^ findnation EDWARD PER civ A L.

vot i. R

186 SHRINE OF BERTHA. ' SHRINE OF BERTHA. 187

•*

LETTER XLIII. LETTER XLIV.

HENRY COURTNEY, TO THE REV. H. COURTNEY.

TO EDWARD PERCIVAL. (Enclosed)

Pnory, August ,79~. THE most fortunate event of my life^T . , ,,, was that which induced me to visit the

-Now are my brows bound with Hermitage this morning, where I foundviaorious wreaths!" I am wild- your letter directed » To the fairest "transported beyond myself! read read Yet my dear Court D what

the enclosed copy, for I would not am j wridng ?——^ (( ^transmit the original to be master of j dwdl Qn fonn . .^ fajn de ^ jthe world. Read, and envy the happy, have spokej but fareweH compliment „liaPPVj Yes, Courtney, you are dear to me, ancf

I acknowledge it without a blush. WasHENRY COURTNEY. ifc imprudent tQ &Q fu]jy ?_

Reflect on the impropriety of a youngunmarried woman carrying on a clan-destine correspondence; be cautious,I conjure you.

Remember I am not a tr if l ing, ca-pricious fool—and will never be in*

LETTER R 2 duced

J88 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRIKE OF BERTHA. 189

duced to bestow my hand where myheart is -not Its companion- My for- LETTER XLV.tune is your's——my fate is decided__but what are the adventitious gifts LAURA FITZ-OWEN,of wealth to a soul like thine ? My at- To SOPHIA CLEVELAND.feaions are free: at least they were, but,

, Lausanne, July, 179-.alas! they are so no longer! T

J 1 HAVE interesting news to tell you,Avoid me in company; and I en- my dearest Sophia: Madame St. Bruno

treat you not to shock the delicacy of has obtamed her promotion, and wemy feelings, by addressing me in my "hall, » three months, depart for Ger-own name I cannot relinquish that ™any. She allows Belinda, Claudinepropriety which has marked every ac- Lavf (*ho came to the convent withSon of my life, and which must be her,) ™d myself, to be the compa-

•commendable in the opinion of a cor- nions of her journey. I look forward., , . i with satisfaclion to the change of scenereft and sensible mind. . . 6 *for here every thing is become mourn-

Adieu, amiable Courtney, ful and replete with dreadful pressenti-ments.

Remember thyI shall feel a pang, notwithstanding

OPHELIA. when I quit, for ever, the gloom inwhich I have been nursed from my in-

r T^T-rro fancy- l sha!1> with ^gret, beholdLETFER R3 all


all the melancholy records of past plaisance in her manner that freezeshours, and heave a sigh as I tread, for the warm soul of friendship. I neverthe last time, the hallowed cloisters, mention Edward Percival to her Weworn by the footsteps of our sacred sis- are less together than formerly; andterhood. there does not seem to be that con-

geniality of sentiment which, tillBut oh! the shrine ofmypoorsui- lately, united us. If she likes my cou-

cide! SU11 I leave it exposed to the sin> she is tne most treacherous ofrude hands of vulgar passengers ? to beings, because—she knous that I likethe inclement seasons? to the eye of him too. But I fear my pen is the wingunfeeling cur'osity? Perhaps her ashes >vhich seems to bear away my pru-will be scattered to the winds; alas! dence;—it wiP soon tire, and my oldall my nights and days will be wretch- associate will, I trust, return to hered ; fancy will present her eternally be- native home,fore me ;—I am chilled at the idea! IfI were rich, 1 would give the honest You shall hear from me again beforeEtienne half my fortune to watch I quit Lausanne. I wish my road layover my dear favourite solitude, and towards England instead of Germany,guard it from the base hand of viola- Happy, happy are those who live intion. tnat land of genius and prosperity!

Alas! Sophia, we who are destined toBelinda Warton is grown more re- whither in the misty regions of super-

served than usual; there is a cold com- stition, only half exist .'..-we gleam likeplaisance pale

192 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA, WS

pale meteors through the gloom ofnight, and then are seen no more! LETTER XLVI

Adieu, HENRY COURTNEY,

Sincerely your's, TO OPHELIA.August t 179-,

LAURA . - - YOUR generous confidence in answer-ing my letter, proves, that the inno-cence of your ingenuous heart inspiresyou to laugh at the affeclation of over-acted formality. Dearest Ophelia, youare too nobly gifted by nature to a-dopt the mean and miserable subter-fuge of art, while the undisguised sen-timents of your mind shrink from thebaseness of suspicion.

Most lovely, most adored Ophelia,your injunctions shall be minutelyobeyed. I w>, with pleasure acknow-ledge the name under which you havemade me the happiest of mortals. Iapprove your caution, and will, (if

LETTER my

194 SHRINE OP BERTHA. SHRINE op BERTHA> ]£)J

my heart will suffer me) treat you venerable Sir Hervy, make me almostwith indifference. I know your soft hate him, while I envy his happinesstimidity would be overwhelmed if yourname was made the subjeft of insolent Alas! Ophelia, we are not mastersanimadversion: indeed, for many rca- of ourselves; you are all the world tosons, secresy will be bliss. me ; and I only exist in the hope of re-

T . . . ceiving the f«H conviction, that youI conjure you, continue to answer are not capable of hurrying me to L-

my letters. I shall leave them under pair.the straw mattrass in the Hermitage.Blessed hermitage! the scene of my Beautiful Ophelia, believe me thineOphelia's meditations; the delicious and thine only,solitude where she dares, unseen, per-haps breathe forth the name 01 Court- HENRY COURTNEY.ney. x

Oh ! transporting thought; I shallnot be able to conceal my joy. Do notbe offended, but such is my romanticpassion, that I cannot suffer you toevince the smallest attention towardsanother : even the trivial instances ofgrateful esteem you shew towards the

venerable

LETTER

196 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRm£ Qp BERTHA( J9?

mestic viper: the smiling, soothingLETTER XLVI. sycophant!

LAURA FITZ-OWEN, Sure1^ she~my friend-cannot betreacherous—she would not betray me !

TO SOPHIA CLEVELAND. Yet, if she were inclined, do I notLausanne, August 179- know the rectitude of my soul ? HaveEv-vrioô^r 1^:^^*°^;r±?ffi3S£E£S '.-« 7«^foned ,Etrrd Per-l iear tuau \yraj f l fMA Q«- cival! Por that I am culpab e.of our beloved monitress, Madame bt. ^

Bruno, my more than mother! She •

:sr - »H:C £ --- rPir-t,r;:,,fv=?-rrH5* ::;'",>:-:, :?i.t,;:SSsRSi.2 £ffr;sr:,;±-?ow seems to triumph in the posses- ™>* »>fl-nce her condufl. Pcrh.psirr.rsriir, ::~: r;;;±r, :vi'r"i--. •-«• —,-i -- «..'-; r,:r;;;

VOL- i- S despicable

J98 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE Qp B£RTHA. m

despicable character of a tale bearer. niature-the dear resemblance of Ed-What have I done? Another letter ward Percival...with the fragments offrom Edward is arrived—but I have that hallowed pane, made sacred bynot seen it! Oh! most unkind, most kjs name,cruel punishment. If I could onlyhear its contents, I would submit to Does fate deiight in augmenting myany penance PereLeonard could inflia. miseries, by depriving me of-every

little source of satisfaction ? Am II am determined, if she does not in- unworthy of so small a gratification ?

form me of my crime, to throw my-self at her feet, and entreat an expla- I remember locking my scrutoire ;nation. Conscious of loving her more yet I will not believe, that under thisthan any human being, except one, roof of sanclity and virtue, there ex-I cannot exist another day under her ists a being capable of using falsedispleasure. I will not leave you in means. I hope that whoever has it,suspense, by closing my letter. Per- will preserve it. I should expire, if Ihaps to-morrow may produce some thought his image could be treatedeclaircissement. . I will soon resume my with negleft. Perhaps it is a frolic ofniy pen. Belinda's to alarm me ; yet she knew

not that I had such a portrait.* * * * * * * * r

O! Sophia, my misery is complete! I may be mistaken. I will searchI am robbed of the only consolation again.my melancholy life afforded. My mi-* * . , * * # * * *mature—

S 2 I did

SOO SrfftlNE OF BERTHA,SHRINE OF BERTHA. 201

I did not find my treasure; but Ifound in its place, a paper, containing blushes, 'till the recollection of herthis severe reproof; read it, my friend, havinS meanlJ pilfered my little trea-and then form an idea of my conster- surcs' dllnnS my ab^nce, awoke thatnation! resentment, which inspired me with

courage to encounter her reproaches.• The delicate propriety which However, she uttered none ; but in a

« ought to mark every action of a fc.alm fnd solenm voice> a* the same

' young woman's life, will be violated, tl.™ l^mS a PaPe^ on the table, de.- if Miss Fitz-Owen perseveres in her "!*d ™e to read lt> addi»g> " Mi«s'visits to the farm of old Terese. Fitz-Owen, you are the best judge how• The indulgence which she has expe- far y°.U f

are cu!Pa^le > I shall expeft• rienced under this roof, was a mark y°U.r defe"ce' f

md l truBt it will be< of that confidence, which she must lch^ M WI» ^storeyou to my esteem;"- expea no longer.' 1?, 5 ^^ ^v she Iett me to form my own conjee-

. - , tures- l opened the paper—the fol-Judge of my «,rpp,.e. and m, con- ,„„. fa an exaa P^P *™fusion, which was augmented by the contents.abrupt entrance of Madame St. Bruno.Conscious of my own weakness, I c A T - j * »*• ,trembled to meet her stern and peno- , ' * fn.cnd «? M«l.me St. Bruno, andtratingcyes. She stood for some mo- «n«j«m,«rof the punty of her c'.ar.c.menf! Without uttering a .y.Uble. ^"^h' at **^"Idbethedupe

My buraing chee, was ...r th . ::s°n; ;±r shTrr

S 3 * destine


* destine correspondence which Miss She adv d me to defer such an at-' Fitz Owen holds with an English tempt, 'till the anger of our beloved< gentleman, whose letters are con- abbess should subside; but I was de-* stantly left at the farm of old Terese termined to assert my innocence; and* de Bouvais, will cast a stigma on the notwithstanding the entreaties, nay,* reputation of her sacred retreat, almost force, of Belinda, to detain me,' which has ever been celebrated for I immediately presented myself before' the propriety, that has marked the my offended monitress.( cottdt?6l of its inhabitants.'

I conjured her, on my knees, to as-Not conscious of having deserved semble the whole community, in or-

such an accusation, I was hastening to der that I might discover my enemy,the study of Madame St. Bruno, w hen and convince her of my rectitude.I met Belinda: "Oh! my friend,"said L taking her by the hand, « there Willing to give me every opportu-are malicious wretches in this convent, nity of exculpating myself, she readilyand I am their victim." I told her the complied with my request, and in astory, and shewed her both the papers. few minutes Claudine Laval informedA blush of honest indignation bespoke us that they were waiting in the Re-her astonishment. She pressed my feftoire. As I entered the apartment,hand in silent sympathy. I requested the first person I observed was Pereher to accompany me to Madame St. Leonard. I would have given worlds,Bruno, to assist me in discovering my either that I had before confessed, orenemy, and to witness my exculpation. tnat

She

SHRINE OF BERTHA. 2CK$04 SHRINE OF BEKTHA. A ^J

, XT ui ^ne justice of the accusation." Asto-that (not havmg done so) I could have ^^ seemed ôavowed h,m at that moment mind, „ Now> MJ^,, ^

.. , dressing myself to our amiable abbess,A solemn silence prevailed, „ suffer me fco be my own ^ to confess how far I deserve reproof.

Madame St Bruno took her seat m l most solemn, d h ^^the midst of the circle, and, I believe, Ietters from flny man whateyer ,Tig

never did a tribunal appear more true, I have often in my evening walksawful< been tempted to call at the farm-house

„ , . , . , . ., .. - u- K T of Terese de Bouvais; but as I was al-The distressmg situation in which I accompanied by Miss Warton, I

wa. Placed so sensibly affecled the trugt j be ^ Qffeeling heart of my dear Belinda, that per motjve>» ^she rose to quit the room, but faintedin the arms of Claudine. She was im- R ,. ,mediately conveyed into the garden for „„!,!",' " tf .' '"""l at the

air. When the confusion which her "1O"'ent l was u te"»S the h.t sen-sudden indisposition had occasioned ™Ce' *as overêlmed with confu-was subsided, Madame St. Bruno, with he ,7 f M ' P ?,?* '°. . j • j tne picture or Mr. Percival ' *« thethe most impressive manner, desired ft Percival'" ^claimedthat « the person who had written a Madam* It Rr.n n 1' ;txdaiined

A i xi- -\/r- „ vsf- Madame &t. Bruno, in the utmost con-letter to her respecting Miss I<itz- itemntmn « T ~ • * j •*Owen, W0l,,a come forward and prove ~^f «^«^ - •

Our

206 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 2O7

Our beloved abbess made no reply, tnat Mr- Percival has made no impres-but shook her head, as a maik of her sion «pon your mind." I disdain adisapprobation. falsehood, and therefore made no an-

swer.This last silent reproof wounded me

more deeply than the severest lecture " ^1Iow. m€>" continued she, « towould have done. I could not restrain see the miniature you have painted,my tears, and therefore entreated per- fnd to have the gratification of send-mission to retire: I could at that mo- !n& Jt to his mother. She will valuement have quitted this world without li> as mtich for being a specimen ofa Sigh. ôur S^nius, as for any resemblance it

may bear to the original."Madame St. Bruno followed me, and,

to my infinite astonishment, kindly In vain did I assuê her that it wastaking my hand, led me to her study. stolen from m7 scrutoire. While IAs soon as we entered, « My amiable Was endeavouring to convince her ofLaura/'said she, "'the interest I take the circtl™stance, the bell rang forin every thing which concerns you, vespers,authorizes me to expert that confi-dence which you seem to deny me. I Never did * flv to my devotions withwill not offend your delicacy by any 3 m°Tc^yful heart,further comments upon the events ofthis day—yet my zealous wishes for . enibraced the earliest moment toyour eternal repose, prompt me to quit the chapel, and retired to my

hope5 chamber

208 SHRINE °F BERTHA- S*HINE OF BERTHA. 209

chamber to mourn for my loss, and tuning, I must dosereflea on the mysterious events of the rather packet, with every wish Jwday ; my mind sunk into melancholy you may be happier thanreflections, and I endeavoured tosoothe my sorrows, by composing the Your affectionate friendfollowing '

SONNET, ' LAURA FITZ-OWEN.

TO SYMPATHY.

Oh ' SYMPATHY ! thou pleasing source of pain jSad soothing comforter! that whisper'st lowUnheaid by vulgar ears, when weaiy woe

Drags slowly on her never ending chain.When reason bends beneath oppression's reign,

Thou can'st invoke the willing tear to flow,Teach the wrung heart, to feel a transient glow,

And " spiinkle patience" on the throbbing brain.Oh! meliorating balm! that from Heav'n's sphere,

Proud N A T U R E stole, of heav'nly joys the best,Thy outwaid attribute, a silent tear,

Thy seciet sanctuary, the feeling breast!And yet, O SYMPATHY ! too much I fear,

Thou lend'st to LOVE no pitying hour of Rtsr.

I have not seen Madame St. Brunosince; and as the post departs this

evening, vol., T ^^

SiO SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 211

Cavil, who retired early, being indis-posed with a violent head-ach.

LETTER XLVH.When I had bound up my hair, and

SOPHIA CLEVELAND, Put on ™ght-cap, I recollected thesituation of my friend, and wishing to

TO LAURA FITZ-OWEN. see her once more, before I retired torest, I took up the lamp which was

charleton Priory, August 179-. burning on the hearth, and gentlystealing from my chamber, fearful of

I AM scarcely " in my proper mind." alarming the family, I proceeded alongYou know, my dearest Laura, that the gallery, with my eyes bent on the(though educated in a convent) I am ground, dreading to encounter thefar from superstitious, but the horrors stern glances, and pointing truncheonsI have lately witnessed, have overcome of the Wentworth's, arranged in a far-my resolution. I should condemn any midable phalanx along the lofty walls,body else for this weakness,—but what Thank heaven, the beaux of modernI have seen, I will believe! times are less formidable.

My blood freezes while I repeat the I was not a little surprised, on enter,tale: last night, after supper, we ing Lady Cavil's apartment, to findamused ourselves till a very late hour, that she was absent. I resolved, as itsinging catches and glees. Every one was then very late, to return to mywas in excellent spirits, except Lady chamber; when, as I passed the top of

Cavil, T 2 the

212 SHRINE OP BERTHA-SHRINE OF BERTHA. 215

the great stair-case, my eyes were fas-cinated by a faint gleam of light, re- venture to advance. Thus I stood,ftected on the half rusted breast-plates, like one petrified \vith dismay; whenwhich hung round the ball beneath; * heard the most dismal groans, pro-thinking that I heard the echo of foot- cceding from the Gothic scene of hor-steps, and concluding them to be Lady ror '» which, together with my screams,Cavil's, I proceeded down to the first had alarmed the family. Seeing se-landing place, which commands a view veral people enter the hall, I sum.of this Gothic hall. moned sufficient courage to venture

down, where I found poor Lady CavilJudge of my horror—" the time of in violent convulsions. Doubtless, she

night, together with the terror of the to° had seen the dismal spectre; theplace,"——when 1 beheld a figure in ver>P remembrance of which almostcomplete armour, gliding among the freezes my veins, when I recollectbannered columns. I think I see at that * am n°w writing under the samethis moment the pale glare of the po- roof •'lished steel, as the phantom

Oh J my dearest Laura, I would not——————" P'ess-d,- have to answer for the « foul and most

.•wbuseem'd its hand, upon what êni'd.bineart. unnatural murder," that can call theMy involuntary shriek was answered peaceful spirit from its mansion-of

by one still more dreadful. To return repose,along the gallery was impossible ; nei- .

, u - t i 1 fK . t - T unnM " To visrt thus the glimpses of the moon,ther could it be supposed that 1 would „ Making night hideousV,venture

Ts Heaven

214 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BtRTHA. 213

Heaven knows the scene will destroy nie) \ envy vou vour undistwrbed re-al! my happiness, while I remain at treat, where the pure spirit can resignthe Priory. the oppressive load of grief and rest

for ever!This morning, when I went down

to breakfast, though the sun shone I had almost forgot to tell you, Sirwith dazzling lustre through the paint- Hervey Wentworth intends to give aed glass casements, I shuddered at the splendid/'fe in this bannered Hall. Iremembrance of last night! wish I could persuade Lady Cavil to

quit the Priory before the period ar-You may laugh at my childish su- rives: the remembrance of its pertur-

perstition, you may say I was fancying bed inhabitant will overshadow all theor dreaming; but I most solemnly ^ lustre of the scene,declare, if there is belief in woman,"that what I have related, I saw ! Should I could not help smiling at youryou still question my veracity, Lady animadversions upon Mr. PercivallsCavil can- witness the fact; though she brilliant hoop-ring: perhaps you dois delicately cautious of mentioning the not know that all men of fashionablesubject, on account of the amiable Sir notoriety, are seldom without someHervey, who dpubtless has often heard outward sign of their supposed sue-of the night-wanderings of his shadowy cesses; a woman's reputation is often

est sacrificed at the shrine of their vanity,and a visible token is a source of exqui-

Farewel! my dearest Laura: believe site triumph. Some will wear wed-in^ ding


ding rings, others, a curiously braidedlock of hair, purchased at the jewel- FTTTTB VT tntrlers', and as little valued as the object JJ'K XLV1IL

they traduce. Such are the arts of the $IR FRANCIS CQLprofessed man of gallantry!

TO EDWARD PESCIVAL.

Adieu, dear Laura, Prioryt August ,79.,

Yours faithfully, °H! thc deli«hts of Charleton Priory,and my lovely Northern Nightingale,Lady Cavil!

SOPHIA CLEVELAND.

Last evening, for three long hours,' did I listen to the melting tones of her

melodious voice; " Oh! they cameo'er my ear" like the bleak north thatroars upon the rugged thistle!

However, I was completely re.venged for the many aching heads Ihad experienced on her account.

I was so disgusted with her ridicu-lous mixture of prudery and coquetry, "

LETTER tbat

S18 mRim m BERTHA. SHRIKE OP BERTHA. 2*9that I determined to ascertain which I sealed the heroic billet, and takingwas the predominant failing. After advantage of Lady Cavil's absence, onconsidering in what manner I could one of her nymph^like excursions inlaugh at the former, and expose the the forest; I left it on her toilette,latter, I resolved to accomplish my under the precious casket which con-design by means of an anonymous taiued the roses and lilies of the nextbillet, of which the following is a copy: day's conquest; and then retired to

wait the arrival of the delightful mo*" You can be at no loss to discover ment destined for the humiliation of

" the writer of this, too lovely, too my lovely Mountaineer." unkind Lady Cavil; for I flatter« myself that there is but one person I entered the drawing-room, before" on earth capable of estimating your any of the family were returned from"value. 0h I most amiable of women* their morning avocations. The first« will you condescend to allow your person who arrived wag Lad Cav.^« skve tke honour often minutes con. there was a simpering smile of consci'"versation. this aight.at twelve o'clock, ous triumph upon her ample cheek" in the Great Hall, after the family which convinced me that my tender" are retired to rest ? I have a eir- request was too gratifying to her va-« cumstance to communicate to you, nity not to be complied with I be-« on which the happiness of my future gan to repent my frolic, lest she should«existence depends. If you refuse, suppose me serious. However not" you never will know who was the suspecting me to be the despairing« writer of this letter." swain, she directed all her artillery of

1 sealed languishing

22O SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 221

languishing glances at Courtney, whose degree of subordination. I whisperedastonishment at her sudden partiality, Courtney, « Shall I tell Miss Cleve-and dismay at her assiduous attentions, Jand i3" Sophia, hearing her name men-amused me extremely during- the eve- tioned, cast a look of the most eagerning All my affectionate devoirs were enquiry, first at Courtney, then atrejected with disdain ; while he, un- myself. I was proceeding to tormentconscious of his bliss, was lost in con- the divine, when the pendule on thetemplating his beloved Sophia. chimney struck the half hour after

eleven : I recollected my engagement,The time for our adventure now and rose from the table, first, desiring

approached. Immediately after sup- the hero to « remember twelve, andper the gentle Cavil retired, selecting not be cruel !"—then taking my hata nervous head-ach from her ample from the sofa, I sought m\ chambercatalogue of romantic ailments, as an to equip my self for the rencontreexcuse for leaving us at so early anhour ; and, to my infinite delight, I I had, in the course of the evening,heard her say to Courtney, in soft and ordered my servant, an ignorant Westtender accents, as he opened the door country boy, to go, unobserved intofor her," remember twelve," he bowed the Hall, and procure one of the rustyrespectfully, and returned to the table. Sir Huberts or Sir Walters which hung-

round in martial pride, to the extremeAt this last instance of her conceited terror of the gaping peasantry. " What

credulity, I confess I found it impos- Sir," exclaimed the fellow, staring dosi ble to keep my risible muscles in any "you mean they gentlemen \vith the

degree vox i. TJ sted

222 SHRINE OF BERTHA. _ „ _ ,,SHRINE OF BERTHA. 223steel coats ? Oh! goodness me, I would on t^ • *. 7

not touch one on'em for all the money w"th mv ±, apPearance ' ™*.in the land: why I do think I do hear shomZf "7"' comPmi°» °» W•em groan when \ do cross the Hall of a ± ±S " ! humed *m* to night! « You blockhead/' said I, " go ^this instant, they are only coats of w, ,mail." « I don't care," returned he, J™" n

th™. ™rt""'y ^nipped, I« whether they be male or female, I a' „ ° . u '," '"°St °bsCl"'C cor'been tould they abeen in many a brave mv]Lh? v "'j ?d> exti"Suishi»gbattle; besides, I never liked the looks ™y

p L™T^ ^ ^, , ... ,. , expectations of a fond loveron'em, I do seem they be a bloody- u i u \ n .minded set!" After this very eloquent tharangue, and the most earnest en- . | h^.be11 beatmg one," I saw, gen.treaties to be spared from « disturbing ^ eal'ng down the staircase, witho' the dead," I dismissed him. £^£r .J00^ d her hand.

kerchief, the lovely Lady Cavi!. Shewalked, tottering and tremblino- «•«'By this time the hour of my appoint- the old oak table> ^ to

mcnt was arrived; took my taper, and 8itti down mn^y,and running down the private stair- gan t contemnhte in »" ,case, immediately reached the Hall; * the oôJutiôfÎ then seized on the first suit of armour features whfch ^ <* thoseI could find, and returned in triumph the recollection of her recent con ?with my ponderous paraphernalia. I I thought this a good opportunitvtocould not helpsmihng when Ireflecled begin my ,inc Of niarch; aco^rdtagty

U 2 I sallied

£24 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF EERTHA, c,^ »* J

I sallied from my hiding place, and one of the pillars of the fabric, so rolledwas gliding horribly towards my fair in flannel and fleecy hosiery, that mis-companion, when I heard a loud and taking him for a feather bed, whichpiercing shriek, and turning my eyes some of the servants had brought fortowards the great staircase, saw Miss the expiring Lady Cavil, I exclaimedCleveland coming down, pale as death, « Here, here, Courtney/lay her uponand almost breathless with terror. this," and seizing the Peer by the legThe boisterous Lady Cavil hearing her levelled the roaring legislator with thevoice, started from her seat, but on ground, before I was aware of theseeing me, sunk on the ground in mischief I had committed,convulsions.

* if ,u c * u- * * -A ^J turn to/«»* now arrived- ima-As self is the first object of conside- gine my alarm when I beheld a femaleration, I was ungallant enough to leave figure gliding down the staircase withthose fainting females to their fate, a night lamp in its hand, by the'l^htwhile I fled to my apartment to divebt of which I discovered the lovely ' ,,myself of my weighty accoutrements. cretia Winterton ! She was wrapped

in what I conceived to be a blanket,On my return to the scene of confu- but Lady Moreland informed me that

sion, I found the whole family assem- it was a shawl. In the confusion Missbled: Lady Cavil was still on the Winterton had forgot to replace thoseground, supported by Miss Cleveland ; lovely auburn tresses which she hadLord Moreland had hobbled out of his (not suspecting that she should makeapartment, and was leaning against her appearance anymore that nieht)

one TT •* o ,.u 3 carefully

S26 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 227

carefully enclosed within their paste- lady is not safe under your roof! forboard prison ; the rose had quitted her my part, these midnight revels may becheek, the lily her forehead; but the perfectly adapted to the taste of someconstant ruby had scorned to desert people," directing a ghastly smile toits post. Lady Cavil; " but women of decorous

opinion must be shocked at such out-Perceiving so large a group, she rages!——For you, Madam," (turning

attempted to fly., but her trembling to Lady Moreland, who looked asfoot missing the step, she fell, and beautiful as an angel) " I dare sayCourtney arrived just in time to receive your amiable Lord will profit by theseher snug round head, like a cricket-ball humorous experiments; but men ofbetween his hands. sense know how to distinguish between

propriety and ridiculous flirtation.'*Finding that she had no possible <e You are right, Miss Winterton,"

means of escaping, and ready to ex- said I, stepping forward to replacepire with rage and confusion, all the the dusky drapery, which she called atempest of her wrath fell upon the shawl! that, in the warmth of debate,hospitable Sir Hervey, whom she ad- had fallen from her undecorated head;dressed in the following tender strain : when I received, for my attention, a

box on the ear, that totally subdued" Sir Hervey Wentworth, I wonder my gallantry, and deafened me, even

that you should suffer such scandalous to the boisterous laugh of Lady Cavil,doings in your house!—Why a young which my humiliation excited.

ladyAs


Ae I found that I could be of no-further service, I hastily took my leaveof the enraged group, " and, smilingleft them to grow cool at leisure." LETTER XLIX.

You see we have our little lively LAURA FITZ.OWEN>

amusements, and that there is no occa-sion to travel for adventures. TO SOPHIA CLEVELAND.

yours Lausanne, Sept. 179..

OH! Sophia, how shall I find resolu-F. COLVILLE. tion to quit Lausanne; I have only

another month before that awful pe-riod ; alas! I shall find it by much tooshort for the million avocations thatdemand my attention. Heaven knowswhether I am preparing for a journeyof happiness or sorrow.

I have given Etienne all the moneyI can command in the world: he hasvowed most solemnly, and heaven for-bid that he should break his oath, tofortify my Shrine from the attacks of

LETTER winter;

230 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE Op BERTHA. 231

winter; to build over it a rugged mo- I saw part of the ruin shatterednument, and to say his daily pater-nosters by the enraged elements It fell nearnear the sod. I trust his artless pray- the grave of the unfortunate Berthaers will not be rejected.

T • i , ., Oh •'heavens! what my heartfelt nnI was oven, helmed with grief yes- Ianguage can describe y

M ™^°terday mormng-the weather was un- tha-my mouldering victfm She "commonly tempestuous; it rained, and who had been nurj ; Sheblew a hurncane: I had not sleptsmce of splendour, she »™ £Pday break. My restlessness predicted sensible of t||c surround{ ^âpproach^ sorrows. her heart wouM> ljke

dered with apprehension ; but, alas!The thunder rolled m tremendous no tempests can disturb the silence of

peals, and the lived lightning glared her abode«hideously over the vanes of our monas-tery ; and on the peaks of the distant I could not bear the idea that herAlps, its effect was beautifully awful. remains should be exposed to the rude

^mpest; that the lightning shouldI stole from matins, and from my wither the flowers which decorated the

chamber window, looked with mourn- turf—or the cold rain beat upon herful tenderness towards my dear retreat. bosom.__More than common terror assailed allmy faculties. Gracious God I why was I made ac.

quainted with this fatal story, it cm-1 saw bitters

33S SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE of BERTHA. 233

bitters all my days. But I must teach thus intruded myself upon her sacredmyself to remember it no more. retirement.

In the evening the sky became se- « My aniiable Laura," said she, « Irene! the landscape was beautifully am here paying my fervent devotions,refreshed by the showers that had fallen and offering up my humble prayers, assince the morning, and the sun set the ]ast duty of Christianity before mywith uncommon splendour. departure." I should be sorry to quit

this sod, without bestowing one tearAfter evening prayers I crept out to to the memory of its inmate,

visit my SHRINE. My soul was full ofdevotion and tenderness. I strolled She was in the most distressing agi-gently along till I came within a few tation.—I kissed her hand—My grate-paces of the Shrine, and you will judge ful tears prevented utterance——1 leftof my surprise, when, on suddenly her.—She watched me till I had quittedentering the ruin, I beheld Madame the ruin.St. Bruno, bathed in tears, her rosarylaying on the sod, and she prostrate What can it mean? Dear Madamebefore the rude monument which I had St. Bruno! She is the most perfect oferected.—— human beings! If retirement from thfe

busy haunts of life divests the heart ofShe rose suddenly, and in evident all its frailties, who would not wish for

confusion.——I regretted that I had seclusion?——Yet this unfortunatethus BERTHA interests her feelings very sin-

VOL. i. X gularly!

234 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 23.-J

gularly!——Tell me what are your Sophia, we never know the value ofconjectures ? supreme delights till we find them re-

ceding from our view: I have had timeI have visited every solitary spot on to meditate. I have had hours drag

our romantic confines—the glades, the slowly like lengthening years,vine-yards, and the mountains! I havewandered beside the extensive lake, I saw the sun set last evening; andand I have stood on the battlements when the landscape faded in the mistsof our convent, to contemplate the rising from the water, I almost fearedsurrounding country.——Alas! I fan- I might never behold them again—andcied I discovered new and superior at the returning dawn I flew with mi-beauties to those I had ever before patience to gaze once more on the sceneremarked. of Nature's fairest works. Her hills,

her woods, and her solitary dells ! butI gazed with delight on the snowy alas! a time will shortly arrive when I

peaks, rising in grand perspective shall look for them in vain—when Iabove the fertile landscape: The sun- shall sigh to be the inhabitant of thesebeams glittering on them, and produc- my almost native walls; when I shalling an infinity of splendid changes, as ueep for the sight of my dear Shrine,the tints of an evening sky, softened and fancy that sacrilegious hands have .from the broad glare into the purple broken the silence of my lost BERTHA'Sglow of twilight, and, as Addison says, tomb. I dare not think of it: the idea" faintly scattered the remains of day." is too distressing. Alas! poor victim!

" How I envy thy pallet of rest I"Sophia, X a Perhaps,

S36 SHRINE OF BERTHA.SHRINE OF BERTHA. 237

Perhaps Edward Percival will re-turn by Lausanne, and I shall not see Fa^weli ye shades of mountain pine,

^J ' Ye rude rocks black ning o'er the wave;him; I shall then be an inhabitant of a And, oh i farewell dear rugged SHRINEne\V World. Tll3t marks poor BERTHA'S lowly grave.

' . , . , A , ,. * go. to paths of brighter hue,Alas! I am grieved tO depart; but Yet Memory oft shall wander here;

'tis nOW tOO late tO litter my COm- And FANCY still shall flow'rets strew,plaints, my destiny is irrevocable. Besem'd with PITY'S h o lx*™ !

And when to distant realms I stray,Then, dear melancholy habitation! To mingling scenes ofPompand glee;

monastic gloom, where resignation is oft will i steal, lov-d SHADE, to pray, 'fostered in the sainted bosom of PIETY » And dr°p a tender tear for T H E E !

Where misery finds HOPE,- and HOPE That tear perchance may give relief,looks smiling to ETERNITY ! dear shades! And raed'cine comfort to my woes!. . , , . , , • j j For °ftfrom sympathetic griefwhich cherished my young mind, aad The wounded

sheltered it from all the storms of atempestUOUS World, farewell! Oh ! l wou!d ruminate and mourn,

r From early D A W N till fading EVE }

FarewelU.-dear haunts of pleasing woes t F°^mifSt GAV> heart forlorn'Ye sun-burnt vales, and forests drear 5 Would turn to thee————and turn to grieve.

Where oft, at evening's solemn close,I've dropp'd the sad, the pensive tear. Stl11 would m? zealous care display

Each tribute thy sad fate demands IFarewell! ye vineyards, whose rich glow Oft would I scatter garlands gay,

Derides the naming orb of light J To shield thee from unhallow'd hands.Ye limpid streams that brawling flow,

Ye vanes that greet the traveller's sight. • X 3 Wh™Farewell vviien

4

238 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINK OF BERTHA. 239

When MORN, its sunny wings spread wide, OH, BERTHA i since ordain'd to part,Should wake each flovv'r of gaudiest hue, Sinco destined from thy DUST to stray,

THY-SHRINE should glow with softer pride, Let R E S I G N A T I O N bathe my heart!MY TEARS surpass its spangling dew ! And THY meek SPIRIT—guide my way.

And when at E V E N I N G ' S crimson hour Farewell! if any thing should delayThe batt and beetle flitted roin I, my jollrney J will write again; and,

Faint echo, horn yon mould'ring tow'r,should greet my song's prophetic sound. during its progress, you shall often hear

from me.And when the tissued veil of night,

Should scatter wide a doubtful glooht; -r, T , \ ,, .Oft would I steal fiom moital sight, Pray Iet me knOW thing yOU

TO weep and sigh o'er Btm MA'S tombt learn respecting my cousin, now andhereafter. 'Tis a foolish curiosity, but

But ah! F A R E W E L L ! no more my strain i{. must be g-ratifiedSh.dl vibrate through yon CLOiSTtR's shade5 °

No more enchant the village S > W A I N ,Or sooth to hope the love-lorn MAID \ Believe me, my dear Sophia,

No more, when rapt in pensive mood, -7 .„ . .The C O N V E N T ' S bell, with silver sound, Yours affectionately,

Shall echo thiough yon specter'd wood,To wake me from my dteain profound I LAURA FJTZ-OWEN.

No more the distant taper's gl.u e,Shall through the painted windows burn*

To maik the V E S P E R hour of pray'r' And bid my ti uant steps—return!

On

LETTER

OAn .„„*,- v. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 241£40 SHRINE OP BERTHA.suppress, lest it should again call forththe resentment of the mild Lucretia.

LETTER L.Lady Cavil, notwithstanding a con-

SIR FRANCIS COLVILLE, siderable augmentation of rouge, bore„, in every feature the visible vestiges ofTO EDWARD PERCIVAL. ,. J. . , . . j* .disappointment and terror, not daring

charleton~Prhry, Sept. 179- to meet the eyes of any of the male0,77 />Â,««. „« *t j LI T *• Part of the family, fearing that sheMill harping on tbe adorable Lucretia, . , L ~ . r,might encounter the glances or heren-THE morning after our dreadful ad- amoured incognito.venture, whether to recommence the _ . , , . ,, . .,„ _ „. . , , . ,, Sophia looked much paler than thebattle, orowing to a sleepless night, « , ^ u L , . i i ••, , u . . T - 1 1 , spectre s h e supposed s h e h a d beheld,through the alarm occasioned by the r ri^ghost, I cannot pretend to decide, but T . ^, . „ , A , .

V ^ « P I I « I , I U • 1.4. . i i Lord Moreland was confined to hiswe had a full assembly by eight o clock . , . , „ , < , ,. , Tto breakfast. * chamber with a fit of the gout, which Ifear I had occasioned.

Our nerves scarcely seemed to haverecovered their tone since the discord Then came' " thouSh last> not Ieast

of the preceding evening. The en- m our dear love' the woe-worn Win -chanting Lady Moreland's lovely terton ! from whom I kept a respeflfulmouth wore a perpetual smile, w hich 1S ance*she (though vainly,) endeavoured to . N

suppress, ° .

§42 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHUINE OF BERTHA. 243

Not a syllable was uttered during which Tias all the grandeur of the lastour repast. Sir Hervey being exceed- century, possesses little more than theingly mortified at the melancholy architecture to recommend it. Thewhich seemed universally to prevail, furniture being ancient, was much ad-proposed an excursion to amuse his mired by Miss Winterton., from theguests during the remainder of the sympathetic feeling which pervadesday; and as Lady Moreland had ex- her heart upon all occasions. Shepressed a desire to see Clifden, which could not, however, be persuaded tois only eight miles from the Priory, as look at the pictures, till the womansoon after dinner as six sleek, black, who shewed every thing, assured herdock-tailed coach-horses could be fas- that there were no figures offensive totened to the old caravan, for I cannot the eye of delicacy: of this Miss Win-call it a coach, Lady CaviJ, Miss Win- terton expressed her doubts—we pro-terton, Miss Cleveland, and Courtney, ceeded.became the inmates of this cob-webbedvehicle, while the charming Lady jn the first room we entered, thereMoreland made me the happiest of men, happened, unfortunately, to be aby condescending to grace my curricle. beautiful pifture of a sleeping Venus—As politesse obliged us to form part every eye was instantly fixed on Missof the cavalcade, we followed the Winterton, who approached the wo-Wentworth waggon like a butterfly man, while her face reddened withpursuing an elephant. In about two rage and indignation, at the same timehours we arrived at the place of our exclaiming, " You shameless wretch!destination. This superb mansion, ' what do you mean by offending modest

which eyes


eyes with such exhibitions ?" " Expe- court yard into the hanging wood,ditions," said the astonished woman, « This/' said Lady Moreland, « re-« I don't know of none; I am sure I minds me of the spot immortalized bysees nothing ugly in this room." I the first representation of Milton'scould not exaaly coincide with her in Comus. Oh! I could worship with theopinion. " And as for expeditions/' most enthusiastic admirationcontinued she, " I scorn u'm as muchas yOU does.*' te Shut up your room "—————Every alley green,then/' rejoined Miss Winterton. Dingleor bu8hyddl of this wild wood-"« Why, ma'm, it is my Lady's dress- „ I don>t doubt it;, said Misg Winter-

ing-room/' returned the simple show. tODj „ The imprOpriefc;es of your fa-woman. tf More shame for her/s vourite poet will ever be admired byadded the chaste Lucretia, « but de- those who can countenance the mid-cency is out of fashion in the great night revels at Charleton priory,,,world now a days." Saying this, she darting a sarcastic glance at Lady Ca-quitted the room. vil and myself. « True/' replied

r , „ i j c. A- ^ . u ^ Courtney, repeating the following linesLady Moreland, finding that we had from Comus :no chance of admiring the beauties ofart, proposed that we should visit those „ Lov£ VIRTUE , .g of nature; and, with that engaging •< she can teach you how to climb,smile that always adorns her counte' " Higêf tiwn the sphery chime;nance, led the way to the garden As ; -^^ tg ,„,„soon as we had proceeded through the

court n*"1- Y Produce


" Produce any thing in Milton like First I began to expatiate on thethat/' said Miss Winterton, with an frequent robberies committed on thatair of triumph. At this last instance road; and was delighted to observeof her ridiculous affeaation and igno- Miss Winterton carefully concealingranee, the whole company burst into a her "rings and .things, and fine ar-loud shout, which so offended fhe di- ray" in the pocket of the carnage,vine Lucretia, that she hurried into which (taking advantage of a cloudthe carriage, and would see no more. passing over the moon,) I safely con-

veyed into my own.The sun being now set, Lady More-

land was apprehensive of exposing her- The treasures of the Gallery at Flo-self to the night air; and as I had no rence were the next subjects of conver-inclination to be deprived of her com- sation, upon which Miss Wintertonpany, I gave my curricle to the care was silent; but Lady Moreland, whoof my servant, and we entered the has lately returned from Italy, ex-coach, notwithstanding the groans and pressed her opinion in a manner whichuplifted eyes of my virgin antagonist. evinced her taste and understanding.

I was proceeding in my admiration ofIt was quite dark by the time we left the Venus de Medicis, when I heard

the woods of Clifden. I was resolved Miss Winterton say, or rather scream,to amuse myself at the expence of my « Stop, open the door, open the door,•venerable vestal, till we arrived at the and let me get out: it does not signify,Priory. 1 can stay no longer to be shocked wit!)

Sir Francis Colville's indelicate dis-I?1'rst Y 2 course."

218 SHRINE OP BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 249

discourse." « Surely, Miss Winter- darted out of the carrriage into theton," said Lady Cavil, " there was road, which, on account of the heavynothing uttered that could offend the rain that had fallen during the preced-most scrupulous imagination," " You ing night, was not perfe6tly adapteddid not think so, I dare say, Madam," to the " light fantastic toe'' of the an-returncd the lovely girl. « You will gry Lucretia. In vain did we endea-attempt to persuade me, that Venus Vour to convince her of the impro-Medusa was a very modest personage, priety of such a resolution. She wasand a proper object for animadversion, deaf to our persuasions, and insistedYet, I think, Sir Francis might Had on the servant's giving his horse to theother objects to amuse the company other, and attending her to the Priory,with, than anecdotes ^f his Italian Sig-noras." if You mistake me, Miss I then took the liberty, in the* mostWinterton/' returned I, in the most respectful tone, to offer my curricle,submissive tone. " If you willcondes- raying, that as she was determined tocend to be informed, Lady Moreland deprive us of her company, I thoughtcan assure you that the Venus de Me- that it would be more consistent wi thdicis is a very beautiful statue, and no the rules of decorum to accept of Mr.cbere amle of mine." "Sir," interupted Courtney's protection, and suffer himthe enraged syren, "Lady Moreland to have the happiness of defending hermay assert what she pleases, but I will from the bold intrusion of impertinentnot be accessary to any more of your assailants,profligate conversation." And, not.withstanding our united entreaties, she After many unavailing signs and

darted Y 3 pinches.

250 SHItlNE OF SERTHA. SHRINE OF EERtHA. 2^1

pinches from Courtney, which I af- We had scarcely felicitated our-fe6ted not to understand, I renewed selves on the debarkation, when themy supplications. At length Miss carriage suddenly stopped. MissCleve-Winterton, casting a most affectionate land supposing that we were attacked,glance at her beloved champion, de- shrieked terribly,clared that she was ready to commitherself to his care, because she believed " plerdns the night's dull earj"him to be a man of honour, and her instantl embraccd this convcnicnt

person would be safe. I make no doubt opportunity for unburthening the loadbut that it would have been equally so of gricf whjch jea]ousy ,md p,aced upQn

with any of the company. hcr heartj by fainting§

I then recolleaed the awkward pro- Lacty Moreland perceiving the causeposition I had made, yet hoped that so of our alarm, endeavoured to dissipateantiquated an objed could not excite our terrors, by declaring, that it wasjealousy in the mind of the fair Sophia. only Miss Winterton. " Only Miss

Winterton," said I—" Can there beMy horses being thoroughbred, any thing worse? I had rather encoun-

they soon overpowered the charioteer. ter a score Of highwaymen, than oneing skill of their new master, and be- Lucretia ! Alack! there lies more perilfore I had time to warn him of their ]n êr eyCj than twenty of their pis-spirit, the happy pair were out of tois^sight; and, in another second wouldhave been out of mind also, Courtney now having opened the

We door

2£2 SHRINE OP BERXHA. SpRINE OF BERTHA. 2,53door of the carriage, with a degree of piness of hearing her woeful lamenta.vehemence unusual to his placid na- ^P*18 at the, distance of abp.ujt twentyture, exclaimed, " You are punished yards before me all the way. At lengthfor your malice, Sir Francis ; for your we arrived at the end of our journey,curricle, I believe, is dashed to pieces."

On entering, every person seemedThis dreadful intelligence made me to enjoy my mortification. I had

start from my seat; which I had no scarcely acquainted them of Miss Win-sooner done, thanf it was occupied by terton's disdainful refusal of my ser-Courtney, who laughing immoderately vices, when she rushed into the room,at iny credulity, in the most insulting shrieking, " I am robbed—I am way-tone desired the coachman to " drive laid—I am assassinated!"on ;" leaving me to appease the rageof Miss Winterton. " Heavens I" said Lady Moreland,

trembling, " what .has happened?'*She refused, however, to accept my " Wl»* '" replied Miss Winterton;—

attentions, and insisted on my quit- " why, enough has happened—I,haveting her, adding, that " she never lost my beautiful family wa£cb, whichwould think of intrusting herself to was presented to me by iny, grandfe-the proteclion of a person who was ca- ther, the worthy Sir Geoffry Winterton,pable of insulting her feelings with with the story of Hero and Lenderodious animadversions ;" then seizing painted upon the dial pla|e, and my mo-the servant's arm, she proceeded to- cho-backed case,with my onyjc seal, leftwards the priory ; and I had the hap- me by my aunt Lucrelia Ifircbrass,

pin ess with

2£4 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 2.55

with the, family arms, three basilisks, had carefully concealed it, till thefinely engraved, and a griphon ram- dreadful tempest should have sub-pant for the crest!" sided."

•ff*•* *-

sf*

I heard our gpdel-natured Cavil ob= Thus, with mutual apologies, endedserve to Lady Moreland, «' it is an our Clifden adventure; yet, not with-happy circumstance that the crest has out many a malicious smile from Ladyescaped the general scene of confu- Cavil, in whose sharp twinkling eyes,sion!" Lady Moreland smiled, hut triumph and delight seemed to strugglemade no reply. for pre-eminence.

When I had suffered her to exhaust Adieu! Remember how much youher voice and spirits sufficiently, I ad- are in my debt, and that of all thingsvanced towards her, with a most res- in nature, an epistolary torment is thepectful bow, and presenting her the worst,watch, said, tf that I had preserved itfor her, knowing its antiquity, and Yours, truly,consequently its value——that I should FRANCIS COLVILLE.have delivered my precious charge im-mediately, but remembering a formerinstance of her severe correction, anddreading that she might, "in herrage," forget the mocho back, and theonyx seal, to indulge me with a second, I

had LETTER

$3$ SHRINE OF fiERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 257

fellow-traveller, there lays a&ide alltrivial distinction, and owns one corn-common pallet."

LETTER XLI.While she was speaking, she gather-

LAURA FITZ-OWEN, €d * flOWCr that embellished the >but recolle6ling herself, she seemed

TO SOPHIA CLEVELAND. distressed at having done so. Shepressed it to her lips. I saw a tear fall

Lausanne, Sept. 179-. .. i • * r c • i • J - . Lupon it, which I fancied revived itsSINCE the evening that I found Ma- withering leaves. She then gently anddame St. Bruno at the Shrine of Ber- carefully laid it on the spot from whichtha, she has often accompanied me it was taken, and proceeded—thither. The last time we went, assoon as we had seated ourselves beside " The susceptibility of your heart,the turf", t( This is a melancholy spot, my dear child, has been fully exem-Laura," said she ; " yet when we re- plified, in the attention you have paidflecl: on the many woes that attend this to these poor remains, I trust, thetransitory state of probation, we ought soul which once gave animation toto consider the grave rather as a peaceful these ashes.-—"asylum, than a terrifying goal. Therethe poorest child of misery finds a She could not proceed. I ran toresting place; and that pride, which her; I knelt; she rested her head uponin its voyage thither spurns a wretched my shoulder, and wept like an infant.

fellow. VOL i. Z <f Take

2#S SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 2J9

", Take comfort, my dear Madam/' those refleaions which must be pain-said I, •< religion teaches the soul to ful."be resigned, while hope anticipates thereward of virtue. <« They are, indeed," replied Ma-

dame St. Bruno, " she was the loveShe continued to weep ; I entreated liest and most adored of women !" I

her to compose her mind, my solicita- was all expectation. She hesitated fortions did not draw her attention from a moment, and then continued, " Letthe object which she contemplated. us go, Laura," said she ; " the clouds

that are gathering, threaten a storm.In this distressing situation she con- I should be sorry to see the rain fall on

tinned for some moments. Her eyes this turf, or the rude winds scatter thewere fixed on the graye; she sighed leaves of the meanest flower that coversdeeply. jt—vet thev must fade, only to spring

up again, while the relics they adorn,''• Let us return," said I, « you from day to day, moulder to dust, un-

are too sensibly impressed with the conscious of the varying seasons. Oh!mournful objects that surround you; if we could but penetrate those darkwhy did you impose so severe a task and mysterious labyrinths of futurity,upon your exquisitely feeling mind? which make the boldest tremble; if IMy dear Madam, suffer me to attend could but know that she is happy, Iyou to our convent; this scene inte- should not repine."rests you too deeply. Do not cherish

those I took her hand, and gently endea.Z 2 voured


voured to lmd her from a scene so *, ^ u^ r *mournful. The sky grew darker JH UP°n gr°Und' *nd hld my faCG b(N

I was apprehensive rf hTeJ^ J ""* ""* °f "" BrUnO'

r ~™^^«rrz --I -be tdone'" ?d fvclouds foretell a stormy night " an awful &nd firm t0ne' " Yetj let thy

6 ' poor servant supplicate thy mercy."She looked earnestly at me, and then „ n. , ,, , ., _ _ .

bending her eyes upon the grave she Madam," said I, forbear,continued—" Poor Bertha! thy once the dCStmy °f Bertha is bej°nd ourwarm bosom would have throbbed feeble intercession ; the All Wise, Allwith pity, hadstthou beheld the house G°°dj kn°WS what is best^ and weless wanderer drenched by the eating mUSt n0t interfere with h5s decrees.tempest, thou wouldst have wept to Let me C°njure y°U t0 desistthink, that the child of poverty found ~a pillow on the damp sod, thqu wert a St°rm paSSed O"' the sky be*friend to the unhappy, and the badge gan t0 briShten' the settinS sun sho»cof sorrow was a never-failing passport through the broken wall, exactly onto thy heart! Will not the SUPREME the grave °f Bertha> ! thoufiht the ani'who knew thy virtues, forgive thy' mated radiance seemed to mock ourcrime." unavailing grief.

A dreadful peal of thunder at this Madame St. Bruno crossed hermoment rolled over our heads. I sunk breast, breathed a silent prayer, and

' we returned to the convent. As soon•* r7 oL S a«

262 S&klNE <5F BfiRTHA. ' SHRINK Of BERttfA. 263

we entered the gates, she retired feeling, perhaps not all my fortitude,to her cell. Forgive the supposition.

1 am more than ever anxious to Once more, adieu!know the story of the unfortunate

. . i T -i. t ± •>• Yours,suicide. Is it not very extraordinarythat none of the Nuns will gratify LAURA FITZ.OWEN>my curiosity ? Whenever I questionthem, they change the subject. Ihave often employed Belinda to exerther ingenuity, but she has beenequally unsuccessful. It seems or-dained, that oblivion should hide somedeed, which nature would blush todevelope, I \ \ i i l therefore reconcilemy mind to that ignorance, which isperhaps the decree of fate. Alas!Ifeel but two sensibly, that we cannotoppose our destiny.

Adieu ! You often complain of thetrivial vexations you have to en-counter. I wish we could exchangesituations——NO! You have all my

feeling LETTER•*

i


the rich heiress of the late Lord Gran-more, who was his particular friend.

LETTER LII. She is somewhere abroad, but on whatpart of the Continent,, whether she is

SOPHIA CLEVELAND, handsome, amiable, or accomplished,I cannot learn.

TO LAURA FITZ-OWEN.

cbarittu* Priory, Sep. i79-. My dear friend, I am certain herEVERY letter I receive from my dear pretensions are not equal to yours ;Laura, gives me additional uneasiness. andu l ™* veijtur!1 tO beheve' tbatv . . ,. ,., c T- i j such a proposal will not be very ac-Your increasing partiality for Edward ,, . ,, . ,T, . i i j. i TA ceptable to your amiable cousin, whoPercival alarms me exceedingly. Do , . ,, „ ,.. . , , ., . ,, f . , T has given too strong a proof of hisnot indulge it , my amiable friend. I ,n . , . , . . „... v cood taste m his admiration of you. toconiure you to see him no more. Your ° , . 3 '

. , c . , i -, accede to such an union,eternal peace ot mind depends uponyour resolution.

I lament that he depends so muchPrepare for an event, which requires on the caPrices of Lord Litchfield, and

all your fortitude. that hls f uture exPe<ftatl°ns will rest onhis obedience; yet I think his nature

Report says, but I will not pretend is to° generous to barter happiness forto assert whether it is with any founda- fortune, and still believe that he istion, that Lord Litchfield has declared " heir to his an%aions.» On the otherhis intention of uniting his nephew to hand> * know that y°u would ra'

the ther


ther cease to exist, than endure the cieties of the world. When you reachself-reproach of having destroyed his Vienna, perhaps the gaiety of theexpectations. scenes around you will dissipate the

gloom which darkens your presentI wish Lord Litchfield could only prospects. Believe me, there are few

see you ; his inexorable heart would men existing who are worthy of a sighsoften, and he would be a convert to from a feeling bosom,your perfections. . I am no flatterer; Ileave that task to those, who do not Madame St. Bruno will give youesteem you. counsel, she is an angelic being; and

there must be consolation in all her'Tis rumoured, that he means to precepts : follow them, and you can-

recall his nephew immediately for the not fail to do what is right.arrangement of the marriage settle.ments; but I have too good an opinion Remember, I only give you this in-of Mr. Percival, to believe he will be telligence upon report. My heart willthe tame assassin of his own peace of rejoice in finding it untrue. Themind. world is fond of invention, which ma-

lice never fails to improve.I know not what to say, or how to

advise. I only hope that he is not We are stjn at Charleton Priory,very dear to you, and that the impres- where the worthy Sir Hervey exempli-sion he has made, is merely the effect fies his usual hospitality. He is a mostof your never having mixed in the so- engaging creature, and exactly what

cieties an

T268 SHRINE OF BERTHA.

an old man should be j unaided, and . . SHKINE °P BERTHA' 269well bred ; neither a cynic, or a cox- thing which 1>s scarce, that we see thecomb | without the pedantry of a tutor, most transcendent beauties of natureor the gallantry of a lover. But I be- neglefted, while her coarsest produc-lieve I have given you his portrait in a *jons are held in the highest estima-former letter—I shall therefore arrest tlon- You will laugh at me for an oldmy pen, and return to a subjea nearer moralizing sermon-spinning pedant,my heart, your happiness.

That you are a jewel of the purestMy dearest Laura, again I conjure brilliancy will not be doubted; but

you to banish the image of Edward you are not the first that has shed itsPercival from your imagination. He |ustre in obscurity, a lot more envia-is amiable, I confess ; but recolleft, than to be in the possession of onethat inconstancy is the characteristic «n worthy of such a treasure,of his sex. Many a young woman has Ar?.been rendered ridiculous, by having J my dca«*et Laura,attended to the artful tales of practised Believe medeceivers. Men are always eager towound the credulous breast—and the Yours affectionatelyheart that is easily won, is seldom va-lued. Remember that pride is the best SOPHIA rrr-x^r1 « -, -, i f i . -^_____ _ vurnia. ^.LtVELAND.shield the female heart can wear. ~~~^^^ =:==:::======- ^

The human mind is so fond of every END OF THE FIRST VOLUME,thing

VOL-'- A a

4£

TH t

SHRINE OF BERTHA.

A NOVEL.

/# TWO VOLUMES,

BY MISS ROBINSON.

FO/,. //.*s

SFCOND FDITIOV.

I O Ar /) 0 Av.-

Printed for the A U T H O R , ly G. CAW T H O R N ,B R I T I S H L I B R A R Y , S T R A N D .

1796.

THE

SHRINE OF BERTHA.^

__UiTTER_I.__

HENRY COURTNEY,

TO EDWARD PERCIVAL,

London, Sept, 179-.

l iEAR my misfortunes, and tell me ifthere is such another \vrctch as myself" crawling 'twixt heaven and earth?1 'Advise me, for I am completely mise.rable.

Four days r-sst I left a letter at theHermitage; oh! that it had sunk tothe bottom of the Thames before I had

^———-•*- beheld it. Yesterday morning I went,/^. ^^^\ hoping and fearing, to receive the fiat

/FI'ftSTLlCHfN o{ my desti»)'-(BIBLlOTHtij VOL<IL R On

\JV_r(mi7A. '*v


On entering, ! found a note, di- t}ie preparations for my eternal hap-recled to me, cautiously placed be- pinessneath the straw mattrass; judge of mytransport when I read the following When I entered, the family werelines, arranging themselves for dinner, my

Sophia was placed next to Colville, to' Yes, beloved, amiable Henry, your whom she vvas uncommonly attentive,

* Ophelia has confidence in the honour I was enchanted at her precaution, and* of her Courtney; her hand, her heart, beheld with patience, and even de-' her fortune await your acceptance, light, the disdainful glances she fre-* be ready this night at twelve o'clock, quently bestowed on me.* at the outside of the Park paling, be-* hind the favorite Hermitage, sacred That horrible Witch of Endor, Miss' to love and constancy ! Be secret, be Winterton, next to whom it was my' faithful, and receive the trembling ' jot to be placed, was more f r ight fu l' but ingenuous and more assiduous than ever, I will

endeavour to describe-her, as she an-* 0PHJE.LIA peared at that moment.

I read this enchanting testimony of She had adorned her Hecatoncanmy Sophia's affection, at least ten thou- figure, with all the paraphernalia ofsane! tin?es, I snatched it to my palpi- pinch.beck, mock pearl, tinsel, rustytating breast, and, breathless w i t h de- steel, and diny feathers' not to men-l igi i t , returned to the house to make tion, the beautiful mocha back and

the u 2 tajs>

5 SHRINE OF BERTHA.

the immortal onyx, which were care. fully displayed, beneath a saf€i.ot.r- tinted gauze apron,

Disgusted with the attcntiolls of t l i i . 5

vestal, Sychorax, I retired to iny chiliiiber, as sooli as the f'ornialities of the table would permit, to runiit!ate on my appronching happiness, arid to make preparations for my journey.

I remained in this delightful sccIu- sion the whole evening, and after having given proper direeions to my old and trusty servant, who was to attend me, I penned a short note to Sir Her- vey U'entworth, alledging the sudden indispositioli of Mrs. Yercival as the cause of my abrl!pt departure. My i iii pat i ellcc becimie ins up p r t a ble 8s the midnight hour approached. I

At twelve o'clock niy servant came to niy door, and, gently tapping with

his

his whip, informed nie that cvery thing was ready.

Oh! Percival, how my heart 1)our:d- ed at the intelligence! I darted i v i t h the swiftness of lightning throrlgh the 1x111, and i n 311 iiistant gaiiied the Piirk

paling : I had scarccly reached the appointed place when m y ears ivti'e hIesscd with the sound of my Ophelia's footsteps ; fearful to encourage the dc- 1r:sions of my fond enraptrircd iniagi- nation, I listened 'till they approached within a few paces of the spot, where I \{.as waiting in all the tornients of hope aiid fear, before I had soliit it ion to utter a syllable. She \vas veiled ; I took her hand-it trenibled esceed- i 11 g 1 y .

I thought this no tinie for chqucnc'e ; she tripped into the chzise, and the postillions having behiwe received their

ins t r u6t ions, €53


itistru&ions, flew towards the altar of hHyri~en, upon the wings of love.

We had not proceeded three miles when my servant rode up to the carriage, wi th niy piirse, which I had left on niy dressing tablc, crying, ‘ 6 Stop, stop, Sir, your. nioncy I” The appearance of a man on iioiseback, ~ i t h this Sid i i t i i t iO11 , (though I instalit- ly rccognized his voice atid figrirc) caused sucli trepidation in the breast of nay treiiibiirig c ~ r i i p m i ~ n , that for. the first time duririg our expedition, she addressed me: Heavens ! Pet-cival, what were riiy sensations, whcti I heard her say, ‘* Oh! rny dear Courtney, how s h d 1 I preserve niy niocho backed watch and niy onyx seal 2”

Fieuds and furies, your what i” exclaimed I, instantly attempting to escape. But in w i n did I hope to steal from the seducing sycora, for slic

struck

struck hcr claws into the skirt of niy coat, and held nie fast. U Will you leave tile, Courtncy 2” said she.- ‘( T h a t I \+ill iiiost asswedly,” ail- swered I . 6~ Wh;lt, in this dismal forest? 1 could only groan forth, g c Oh beloved, injured Ophelia. But 1 an1 deceived, I ani trcpmiied.”- g c Nay,” aiis\i.ei*ed she, c c I think ’tis I that a m trepanned! was it fcr tliis, LI 11 grateful y o 11 t 11, that I overstep pcci t he bounds of virgin niodcsty, a i d condesceridcd to answer yoiii. deludiug epistles 2 Cruel, inhunian Courtney !”

Not w i t hs t a ri d i 11 g her rid ic uloiis c re- dulity, the respeA due to the sex made me attempt a serious expostulation. I now saw the full niagnitude of my disappointment, and gravely addressed her.

CC hfadam,” said I, as I stood upon the step of the carriage, she still hold-

ing

8 SHRINE OF BERTIIAo - ing the skirt of my coat, c c your oivn good sense must tell you, that there has been some awkward niisunder- standing, in this afhir, for which I a111

ready to niake you any apology ; I u.il1 zttend you to uhatcver place of safety you require, a i d to-morrow morning I will, by a proper explanation, coiiii-

tcr& the ridicule to which this night’s adventure mi& expose you.”

cc Impertinent coxconib !” was the ar?swer I received for niy obliging offer: again she threatened, again she soothed me, till heartily tired of this controversy, I made a desperate efior-t to regain my liberty, by slipping ~ n y arms out of my sleeves, and jumping off the step; having done so, I instantly shut the chaise door, and after ordering niy servant to proteA .the lady, and condu& her to whatever place she chose to name, I wrapped myself in his great coat, mounted his

horse,

9

horse, and wi th incredible swiftness hastened towards London ; in niy roJd thither, while a t breakfast, I wrote a short note to Colville, informing him of my unhappy niistake, and entreat- iiig him to elucidate the mystery to 111y dear and justly offeiided Sophia.

YHRlNE OF BERTHA.

I shall remain in town ’till I know niy destiny, which I shall not fail to c on1 111 u n ica t e.

Dear Percival,

Yours ever,

HENRY COURTKEY-

LETTER

SHRINE OF BERTHA..

LETTER 11.

SOPHIA CLEVELAND,

TO LAURA FITZ-OWEN.

Chrlttoiz Priov, Sept. I 7 9 . . 1 DID not imagine my dear Laura, when 1 wrote my last letter to you, that I should so soon have occasion t o excni- piify those precepts of philosophy, which I recommended to your consideration.

I an1 now more than ever convinced that no reliance should be pIaced on tl!e protestation of a lover, yet I cannot intirely agree in opinion, that ~6 the days of chivalry are no more.” I havc, this evening, witnessed an instance of Knight errantry, unequalled in the

records

SHRINE OF BERTHA. 11

records of Spanish prowess! But, thank heaven, the circunistance does not affefl nie---I assure you it amused me exceedingly. ------ Though many wonieii would have been mortified at t ei n g so 11 n gra te fid ly trea ted-so del i- berately sacrificed.

You wilI wonder a t my composure, wlieii I inforiii you, that, not four hours siiice that insinuating hypocrite, Mr. Courtiicy, eloped from the priory! Had any thing amiable or fascinating captivated his fickIe mind, I should have relinquished my pretentions, and borne my injuries with philosophy ; bu t to be rivalled by such a Sybil as Miss Lucretia Winterton, by such a deplo- rable object!---By oiic who has been the bane of all society for at least half a century! Oh, I have not patience to proceed.

* * * * * * I have

12 SHRINE OF DERTHA. SHRINE O f BERTHA. 13

I have been interrupted by m y friend, Lady Cavil, who flew on the wings of delight to remind m e of niy huniili‘; tion, and gratify her prominent propen>ity ; as I cannot, in any other language than her o ~ n , do justice to her eloquence, I shall give you our conversation verbat;ni ; \YI:y out upon ~’011, Sophy ? lj’liat a stupid girl you must be to stiffkr that old h * r i d a n to cheat you out of your conscious moon and Scotch parson ! l l ’hy if I had been treated so, I woiild have followed them, a11 d broken the b!ac ksn1 i t 11’s head M ith his own Iir~mnier : if it \vere my case-in short-I should, w i t h niy unfort m a t e sensibility , have gone dnn c- ing mad a t being so humbled ; but you, Miss, have too much pride to feel nior- tified. I say again, had it been niy case.”

If it were your case, Madam,” interrupted I, 4‘ I dare say you would Lc revenged; but, being mine, I beg per-

ni ission

c c My dear Lstfy CaviI,” ~-eplied I , L v i t h a degree of .irirzg J-oi,l \\ hit!) I??-o- voktd niy geritlc friend alinost to i r i a ( l - l ies , c c I belicvc the mortification 1; i!l be genei-al. There nceds no GHOSI

cor:ie froin the grave to tell lis, t h a t Mr. Courtney a f’avourite iii t1:is family. A i d n i g h t adveri ture is IN

novelty .”

14 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SH&1NE OF BERTHA. 15

and .».«.-. she vanished, As I rose toshut my door, for I âs resolved thatshe should enter n-o more this night, LETTER III.or rather this morning, It being nowpast three o'clock, 1 heard the gallery LAURA FIFZ-OWEN,echo with " impertinent inso. ro sop|{IA CLEVELANa

lent Jltrt! et cetera, < £ cetera/ 'Tisday break, and I have not yet closed /-»..«?«•, :»*//. i-9

my eyes.—Every noise I hear creates THAT indulgent BEING who gave mea hope of Courtney's return. a susceptitle heart, who made me

" tremblingly alive" to all the vicissi-As I am heartily tired of this un- tudes of f^ ui|^ , trubtf a!so giye

grateful subject, I will tndeavour to me fortitude to bear your dreadful in-seek repose. teiligence.

Adieu, dearest Laura, Mr, Percival (for so I must now callh i m ) w i l l have my most earnest wishes

Yours afieaionatcly, for his future felicity ; my tenderestfriendship and my last sigh! Would

SOPHIA CLEVELAND. to Heaven I could add, at no distantperiod.

Sophia, I must learn to suffer, Imuot endeavour to exercise my reason •

LETTER C a i must

16 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OP BERTHA.. 17

I must remember, that my cousin is or quit my pillow at the break of day,the heir to the imperious Lord Litch- with a mind at ease to contemplate itsfield, and that I am a solitary friend- beauties! I do not, after lei vent pray-less orphan ! ers, sink into delicious and unbroken

slumbers; or, in my dreams, stroll inCruel destiny!--most agonizing the paths of exquisite repose' No,

thought! that I am to be the sport at Sophia, a thorny vale is now my wan-capricious fortune, and, because born dering place, and threatening cloudsto penury, ordained to pine in solitude, o'ershadow all the prospects bet o* e me.and, perhaps, perish, the victim ofsensibility. Yet* though my heart may be tor-

tured with the most acute pangs, myHappy wil l be that woman who is e>es sha11 not> Ly a single tear, betray

the destined wife of Mr. Peicival! Yet,' its weakness,! I may sigh, \ ut it shalldo not envy her, for if she is an object be *hen no inquisitive int ruder shallof his cho'ice, she must be amiable: mock my sorrows—the shade of Berthaenvy ; heaven forbid that so mean, so sn*M 'ône bear witness to my suffer-vile a thought, should contaminate the inSs-sou! of her, \v ho is the pupil of MadameSt. Bruno l trust Mr< Pereival will be happy,

oh! heavens! if 1 could controul hisAll the face of the creation now wears destiny, he should know nothing but

a new and melancMy aspect. I no delight! His days should fly on wmgslonger wish for the returning spring, of rapture, and his last hour present

; or C 3 the

18 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHHJN1 OF BERTHA, 19

the bright retrospect of undisturbed seen him ; but, having seen him, how,tranquillity. tell me how 1 shall forget him,

I am composed, and though not Who Js th€ heiress of Lord Gran-happy, unrepini g: this unequivocal it,ore? I have heard the name, but Idecision is far more desirable than the cannot recollect \\hercor when. Mostlingering miseries of suspence. We l ikely she is in Italy by my cousin'sperpetual!} fashion scenes of happiness remaining there so long—perhaps, bymerely to afford the daemon of despair this time, they are married,new victories. DESPAIR! shall she u : ohas been nursed in the bosom of r r l i - Edward Percival married.' I amgion entertain so weak a thought! Shall overwhelmed and faint ;—not wi th theshe resign the hope w hich eternity pre- laborious avocation of writing this let-sents, and suffering such a fiend to ter, but wi th the more fatiguing feverdestroy her expectations, forget, that <>f ^ mind, the very wor>t of mala-

dies." Faith buJ! i» a hiidge from this '.vorld t^ rhf nt*r,• ' O e r dtata's doik gulph, a n d a l l its i:;irc/r J..tUi, " * # 4 : * * * # - i £

I have not communicated your intd- Oh ! that this agonized being couldligence to Miss Warton, I am ashamed sink to rest--that my hour of annihi-of having entertained an idea of Mr. lation could arrive before the nuptialPercival. Alas! I wish I had never day of Edward Percival.

seenI shall

fO SHRINE OF BERTHA, SHRIKE OF BERTHA. 21

I shall hate myself for not rejoicing t,on as a dream that passed over myat his acquisition of wealth; though I slumbering senses. I wil l recall histhink I could have lived upon a scanty image to my mind, as the picture of anpittance, in a clay-built hovel, on the angel, and, as such, I will revere it,bleak summit of a barren mountain, and hope again to behold it in a betterand, with him, have fancied myself world.in elysium ! What are the fascinationsof wealth, that not only the vile and Alas! I have no longer any businesssordid are their votaries, but such here, I am but a miserable shadow,minds as Edward Percival's confess gliding in the gloom of monastic obii-their attractions ?—That idea almost vion, and hourly treading the thin par-teaches me to pity him. tition between my footsteps and the

grave, I often look back uith asto-Yet—I will not believe that an inte. nishment at those moments, when I

rested idea could influence his feelings. shuddered at the thought of death,He adores his promised bride! She is that meagre spectre, for whose approachtheobjectof his choice! Yes, yes.it must I now wait wi th fond solicitude; inbe so—then I am resigned.---My pride whose icy arms I shall sleep unmolested,will not suffer me to utter a complaint, and forgotten !whatever my heart may suffer; --andreason will soon teach me to forget him. Perhaps the lowly state u hich I have

often lamented, is my greatest blessing:No! I will remember his conversa- Had I been born to splendid enjoy-

tion ments, had I been the heiress of LordGran more,


Granmore, the wife of Edward Perci- ing the soul, and teaching it to relin-val, I might have wished to live—Oh? quish the busy world without a sigh!yes, I should with longing eyes have But now---1 view the distant prospectlingered on the confines of eternity, of the varying scenes with disgust andand have shrunk from the pale despot, abhorrence ; my days are darkened,like a trembling coward. by despair, and my nights disturbed

\vith startling dreams--dreams thatWhen I first came hither, I could make reason tremble!

pass whole hours in contemplating theVast and magnificent Scenes Which Or, ,f by chance, one pitying ray of rest,

• Warms the SMI inmate ot my throbbing breastjpresent themselves on every side of - ris but a gleam ot intellectual lightOur convent. I COuld gaze, With ad- That feebly gLmces o'ei my mental sight.

.. i j i » i _ » . j.1. -I*. And, for A momeat, dissipates the gloom,miration and delight, on the sun-gilt T » * u Ve °( To point my weary footsteps to the tomb.promontories, rising above the thinmists of evening, and displaying to the Write to me again soon, but directretiring beam, their sloping sides;— for me Cbez Monsieur de Leiizb rg Ban-The eye would then wander down- yuur a Vienne.wards to their base, skirted with woods, Tr . ., , i .... . . Ir any thins interesting should hao-and watered by glittering springs;,-- J . n , r

rt v. T j j !• * j *i P611^ y°u s"a" hear from me againoften have I mused and listened as they £ J "6""*meandered through beds of wild flow- betore l dePart

ers, till they lost themselves amidst the Adieu,,glooms of twilight. These were sooth-ing, melancholy pleasures; harmoniz- Faithfully yours,

ing LAURA FITZ-OWEN.

24 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 2«>

siasm., but to trust to the more steadyLETTER IV. flame of phosphoric light, or suffer the

SIR FRANCIS COLVILLF, god of day to \\itness your valorousexploits. I think Lady Cavil's warning

•10 HENRY COURFNEY. * J b

to '* remember twelve, ought to haveCharlftOH Pnen, Sept, 178-. . . . , , , . ., • ,impressed }ou w i t h terror at the idea

MY DEAR COURTNEY, oj ni;(jnig|1t; f,,r the remainder of \ ourDON'T fight me again for saying that life.I enjoyed your disappointment exceed- } a cat mind ingly! Remember that human nature ^ l ^îs wonderfully prone to laugh at mis- " * .is \\uiiuciiunjr F 0 , s [ j «;,jie s;1ys rr that the crime carrieschief- and t cannot be sorry m this \ . ^ .cnici. dim , , . , , . , . the punishment with it/' and that vouinstance, because I think the adventure r . *m J , it i * havenoth inf f to dread troni her resent-v ill prove a tolerable lesson to your . - , , > iF ,. D ,,- AV* , ment, it vou had, you need never des-eccentric disposition.—Poor Miss \ \ in - . J J

. . . . . f - i „„„, pair whi le you can find a willow, or uterton, is the object of universal com- £ J 'T , , i KOT. ,^:c f ishpond. I warned \ou ot v our dan-miseration, though she bears her mis- v - J

fortune with becoming, dignified, and ger: I now prescribe a remedy,haughty philosophy ; but " soft you a Farewell, commiserating your mis-word or two before I go." When you fortunes, and sincerely wishing you aare next inclined to play Lorenzo, and speedy cure,carry off a gentle Jessica, allow me I remain, yours truly,to advise you not to rely on the F R A N C I S COLVILLF.fire of your own romantic enthti- VTTVV

siasnl, VOL. n. D LETTER

26 SHRIKE OF BE-THA, SHRINE OF BERTHA. 2T

Where fashion wing'd her light career,And sportive pleasure danc'd along.Oft have I shunn'd the blithesome throng,

T PTTFR V To hide tlr i n v o l u n t a r y tear !Foi e'en u here rapt'rous traivpoits glow,Fi om the f u l l heart the conscious te.ii wi l l tk>\v.*

EDWARD PERCIVAL,

To HENRY COURTNEY. I N VM return to Lausanne, thoughthe eternal displeasure of my fami ly

Rome, Sept. J 7 9~, l 'should be the consequence. I am noAs I began to think it an instance of slnve—friendship may prevail, butfolly to be wise by myself, I have of force never shal l ; 'tis an unpleasantlate entered into all the spirit of these circumstance to i n c u r the resentmentrapturous regions, yet I find the image of a relation, but R'meglio un hnon ami-of my Laura present itself to my irna- co C/JL, ccnto parcnli. I feel the impos-gination, equally in the luxurious iaby- sibility of enjoying the breezes of hea-riuths of the splendid festino, and in ven out Of the s jght of Laura Fitz-the awful mazes of the ruined colli- Owen !seum' * * * * * * *

I thought, by mingling «ith the gay, I was in ter rupted by a nicssapc fromTo snatch the veil of grief away ; c- n i t. t î i \ . ,°Ihop'd, amidst the joyous train, Sir li»bcrt L t t t l euor th . My 1 UCqiUUS,To break affliffion's pond'rous chain; \\lv*is a species of animal b"t \\een aVain was the hope, in vain I sought COXCOmb and a COJl t lOlSbCUr, altered1 he placid hour of careless thought.

U 2 my

Where * Mrs. R O B I N - J C N ' S « Q.k to the iNirhtinrale."L> *J *

28 SHRINE OF BERIHA. snRINE Qp ^ ^

my chamber, " Sjgnor una Icttcra- he retired to Italy to indulge his cuslosaid he, from whom, Mortelli ? « ah! for the fineartg . (and al,ow m£ tQ add

p«r mia ft by dat Cwaliere Littlcvort;>' for the pleasure of pilferi any mi Lof.« From whom >" interrupted I.- AngM> en passant} whom chance or

" Ah !" returned the enranged Mor- misfortune may throw in his way ; thistelh, raising his voice, lor I believe I know by experience !)that all foreigners suppose v\e are deafin proportion as we are ignorant of His dress is, if possible, more quainttheir language, "from dat babare in- than his address : Imagine a renovatedglese it'bich troiv bis dog a la review for mummy in a spotted tyger velvet suit,fttcbhmedalioufromHerculaMum.'' which from size and fashion, appears

to have been the Habit de Parade ofHe then, laying the letter on the ta- some gigantic satellite, in the court of

ble, disdainfully quitted the apartment ]jCVVjs the Fourteenth ; added to this,in a minuet step. a collection of wool and hair, which I

suppose he \\ishes to have mistaken forIn order to give you an idea of this a wig, to which are suspended a small

valuable virtuoso, I shall endeavour to black rosette and a solitaire, carefullydescribe him. arranged to hide a plaited stock, which

is monthly honoured by the labours ofPierre Baptiste, Theodore, Gaspe- his laundress,

rini de Mortelli, is by birth a French-man; but being an antiquarian in This epitome of every thing antedi-niind as well as body, he tells me that D 3 luvian,

he


luvian, is a perpetual source of amuse- been the sufferers, I endeavoured tonient for the facetious Baronet. change the conversation, by a propo-

sal to visit and examine the curiositiesBut to return to my morning's ad- for which this city is remarkable : At

venture. By the time I had finished the mention of curiosities, Mortelli'smy coffee, il cavalier arrived in pro- resentment immediately vanished, andpria persona, leading poor Mortelli, proud of being applied to for instruc-whom I suppose he had encountered tion, after taking a pinch of snuff andon the stairs, by the collar; after re-adjusting his rosette and solitaire, hetwirling him round half a dozen times, exclaimed, with that degree of conse-he threw him into an arm chair, and quence which is naturally attendantretreating a few paces, exclaimed, upon ignorance, <f Ah! patdi Signer,

you shall see, des closes dat you have not<* That's your go! Now, Mounseer, see in your life.

let's see how you look after your horn-pipe. Why, you wanted a good shak- " Shows! cried the Baronet, " Egad,ing, my honest Nero, to take the dust Percival, this is old < lanterna magic a*out of your rusty panther hide—what come from England,say you to another trial, my old heartof Porphyry? Or dost thou prefer post- "Mats non, Monsieur," retortedponing our pas de deux till a '"uture oc- Mortelli, rather piqued at the sup.casion ?" As I saw that he was deter- posed degradation, " you have nomined to irritate Mortelli beyond his such ting in England."patience,, by which we should have

been " Granted,,

S2 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 33

" Granted, and 1 hope we never shall shew you what it is to ride, I have gothave such things as you in England.'* a couple of choice cattle here with me,looking contemptuously at our man of and they shall run with you for whatmany names, " but come," continued you dare, and egad I'll ride myself,he, "let us know what other wild How say you, my young Nimrod ?'»beasts there are to be seen."

" Monsieur you cannot ride in our" Comment, Monsieur! we have no ampitheatre, 'tis ruin."

vile bees now," answered the astonish-ed lacquais, <* but ! vil shew you de fa- " Ruin'd hey ? What has your mas-mous amphitheatre, where dey were ter shut up shop? Faith, I have a greatmake fight 1" mind to succeed him ; are there any

more of the same sort ? any other« Ampitheatre ! what have you got show houses ?

one here ?" enquired Sir Robert.—" Ob! out Signer/' returned Mor- The wondering Mortelli not com-telli, " I go dere every day to instruct prehending the Baronet's meaning,myself." respectfully informed him, that there

was also the Pantheon, a place equally« That must be a good go, by Ju- admired and frequented,

piter," retorted Littleworth, « what,that is the riding dress of your country, " No ™tter for that," replied SirI suppose, or you, perhaps, are the Robert, « the more opposition theMerryman of the troop ?—But I'll bctter i nothing like it; *e fellows

shew who

34 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SJJR1NE op BERTHA. ^

who know what's what, would always ing Astlcyt in the Amphitheatre atprefer a neat nag to a squalling Sig- Rome, to attend me.nora: what do you think of it my oldRoman Emperor ?" I therefore advised him to convince

himself, and when he had exposedThis last vociferous demand was ac- himself sufficiently to ensure notoriety,

companied by a stroke of the shoulder to quit the city a L'Anglois.which nearly annihilated the unfortu-nate Mortelli, who in a tremulous voice ,Tis a very mortify ing circijmstance

enquired, « for why are you en co- that the follies of our countrymenlere ?" hat»nt us, even in these distant regi-

ons. We fly with avidity to meet an« Colour, my old jockey," returned Englishman, and with double velocity

my eccentric countryman, " what care ue often are obliged to fly from him.I for that, I drive four different co-lours, fleet as the roebuck, fetlocks There are indeed two advantageslike HiHigsberg, cropped like their permitted to travellers; we are notmaster." obliged to acknowledge all the ridicu-

lous characters with whom we associateI endeavoured to explain the mis. in a foreign country, and what is done

take which I perceived he was la- at a great distance, is not always bla-bouring under, but he was too much zoned in our native island,enchanted with his new plan of rivall-

il]£ oh! Courtney, how would some ofour

^


our accomplished Right Honourables But he who travels for adventures,be able to face the records of their con- niust take them as they present them*tinental eccentricities, their treacheries selves, and remember that,in love, and their outrages against therules of decorum ; I almost think that Noaripub aver larosa, senzale spine.the aquatic breezes betwen Dover and A ,. ...~ . . ,, c ,.1 T Adieu, believe me,Calais possess the power of the Le- , J

thean fountain, for we forget not only Yours truly,the soil where we have practised ourfollies, but even the objects uho EDWARD PERCIVAL.tempted us to commit them. We for-get them for their absurdities, and theyforget us if we have ever renderedthem service.

Littleworth mistakes the wonder heexcites for admiration, and his absur-dities increase in proportion to theastonishment of the multitude. Hehas been cheated in all the various waysto which his ignorance has exposedhim, and I am convinced that he willcontinue to be the dupe, as long as hisbanker furnishes the means.

But v°m- E LETTER

38 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 3suits with the cloister, but would, I

T FTTTTP VT fear> be lost in the Drilliancy of a pa-i^l li,K VI. lace you will not, perhaps, creditLAURA FITZ-OWEN, this assertion '• and> wha t»» more, you

will laugh at me when I say, that ITO SOPH.A CLEVELAND. should ^ dligu8t

Lausanne, Sept. i79-. vices of exalted life ; I should shudderERE a short period shall elapse, I at the thought of duplicity ; I should

must quit Lausanne for ever. The abhor the trivial pursuits of empty dis-certainty of repose is more valuable sipation, and be gothic enough to ad-than the distant prospect of the most m're the labours of genius. I shouldanimated scenes. ê quite antediluvian in the circles of

bant ton! With such sentiments, howI am of late grown very much at- sna^ ^ a stranger to the world, select

tached to this solitary abode, and the most deserving minds, amidst thesometimes think, that when I depart, herd of tasteless and unfeeling objects?the splendour of the city which I am A!as • merit is often obliged, by indi-about to visit, will appear less pleas- gence, to pay court to unenlighteneding. By habit we not only become re- baseness, and the semblance ofacqui-conciled to gloomy thoughts, but we escence, enforced by poverty, may becherish them with the most earnest mistaken for congenial depravity, byfondness. I do not think I am formed onc unpractised in the mysteries offor the lively haunts of glittering so- ^G-ciety, the pensive turn of my mind

suits E 2 I have

40 SHRINE OF BERTHA.SHRINE OP BERTlfA. 41

I have heard, that the children of , , ,., . f . ,«•««; «».« r<. *u i r*u • sê never ventured near their fatalgenius are often the slaves of the IP- . , , , . ,,„,«.*„«. ur „ u u * f i contamination, she had probably nownorant: Heavens how my heart would , ,. , ^ . , <- t.ache to behold such humiliation! How been hv'ng> 5he fr"?d /,m* b°S°m'my soul would shudder with disgust, the ddlSht °f n^ S°lltude-'when I beheld the dignity of illustrious ' . , , ,,* i * «• j «. u *u * * . • I began to wish that we could remaintalents, seoned at by the upstart mis- b

. ., ,., r . . here for ever: a mixture or tear andcreantj, or the wealthy son of vice and , . , ,j. . ,. disgust anticipated the world's ac-dissipation. 6 / .quamtance : I wandered into the gar-Lately expressing my wish to change den, and took with me a volume of

the scene, I enquired of Madame St. Rousseau—he was a very extraordi-Bruno how long it would be before we nary being! His writings contain theshould arrive at Vienna: " Ah! my most fascinating and dangerous lessonsdear child/' said she, tf you know not that the mind can venture to cherish,the misery you covet; you will soon be and >'et^like the pleasures of this life,disgusted with the follies of life, they wi«d about the heart, at the sameand I shall see you return sighing moment that they endanger its repose,for seclusion; I know the windingmazes of a court, I have trod them, A terrace in the garden commandsand they are over-iun with foul weeds a view of a11 the distant country, I satwhose infectious qualities poison all ' on the parapet wall, and with almostwho approach them. I tremble when holy veneration contemplated the pros.I think of them ; for, alas! they svere peel:! Often did fancy point out thethe bane of the unhappy Bertha: Had jutting rock, the woods, the very seats^

she E3- of


of St. Preux and Juiie. Oh! Sophia, Belinda Warton is very formal ofthey were happy here, why then do I late, and since the scene at the farmwish to wander? Why cannot I be ofTerese, she has not treated me withhappy also ? ^cr usual frjendly attention, she is as-

siduously occupied in paying her courtHow often, dear enchanting scenes, to MadameSt. Bruno, and by the most

how often have I visited your hallowed flattering devotion wishes to rival memazes, -m her affections; but the regard which

is to be obtained by falshood and ser-Wherej from, the wild romantic cliffs around, .? i t .• - ». 1.1. cThe headlong torrents fall with hollow sound, Vlle ulatiOll, IS not worthy of my ac-And stealing through the winding vale below, CCptailce. ConSClOUS of my ZealandUnseen thro'mid-day glooms incessant flow 5 Sincerity, where I find an object WOr-While sulien echo's airy tongue betrays, . i f , T M j-„,, ., ' .5«* »*»*>> thy of my esteem, I can easily dispenseWhere round her seat the rippling channel strnys \ J J J rWhile the lone owl, her lured haunts among, With the friendship of a low and littleTo the pale moon repeats her nightly song. mind.

We have made the necessary prepa- Madame St. Bruno is too amiablerations for our long journey: the whole and enlightened a woman to suffer im-commuiutyx 1S overpowered with re- position long, and the sudden changegret for the loss of our amiable abbess. in Belinda>s condua will rather awakenShe illumined even their solitude her suspidons tban impose upon her

with the lustre of her mind. When she understanding. Claudine tells me, shedeparts, all will be melancholy and has spoken unkindly of me to several oflorlornf the nuns, and in the most jealous

Belinda terms

SHRINE OF BERTHA. 4544 SHRINE OF BERTHA. ,„ . , .„«•again expose myself to the detectionterms condemned our abbess for al- ofafalshood.lowing me so much liberty ; she turn-ed my poor little shrine into ridicule, Adieu! dear Sophia,and said, it was impious to pay my de-votions at the grave of a vile suicide.— Yours, faithfully,Oh! Sophia, I cannot forgive the ex-pression—I cannot think of it without *<AURA FITZ-OWEN.shedding tears.

Have you heard any thing more a-bout the heiress of Lord Granmore ? Ibelieve Mr. Percival is yet in Italy, wehave received no letters from himlately. Adieu, till I am again at lei-sure.

I was summoned to receive a messagefrom Terese de Bouvais. She has somefruit and conserves, which she wishesme to accept before I depart; I shallcall upon her if I can obtain leave, to-morrow after matins, but I shall tellthe reason of my visit^ for I never will

again LETTER

46 SHRINE OP BERTHA, SHIUNE OF BERTHA. 47

lie gave a most ludicrous description ofthe disasters of the preceding night.

LETTER VII ' 'ie triumphant smilesof Lady Cavilduring the recital, led me to imaginethat she was more earnestly interested

SIR FRANCIS COLVILLE, in the fate of Mr Cotirtney than I hadTO EDWARD PERCIVAL. before suspected, or that mere sym-

pathy for Sophia would have dictated.Priory, Sept. 179., As there was no time to lose, I pro-

I posed, that Miss Cleveland, Lady Cavil,NEED not communicate to you the and lf. should sa,,y forthj and reg-

amours of Courtney and Miss Winter- cue „ true virgia here distress,d .„ton, I suppose the tale has already but g hia> fr£)m motjves of dej.proved an infinite source of amuse. not wjshing to witnesg fche confusionment, but of the most ridiculous part of a fa]len ^ dedined thc ent£r

of the adventure you are yet to be prise, and Lady Morland was prevailedinformed. on to suppjy her place

Courtney's servant, who was left to The old can^n was -m t .guard the deluded damsel conveyed ^^ W£ arriyed afc thc her to an Inn at about three miles time h fco gnatch our fair f ^distant from the scene ot humiliation, from that ponderous vehicle ca]^tlieand then returned to the Priory, where. j5atiiihe


Bath Fly, in which she had meditated We immediately distinguished Missa precipitate retreat. Winterton's voice, reproving her sen-

tentious companion, in the tone andLady Cavil, the moment she per- language of a second Xantippc.

ceived our smuggler under weigh,hailed her, and instantly brought her " Sir, if you will have the politenessto, by a volley of most soothing to withdraw that enormous wig ofcongratulations, which set the whole yours, I will, with your permission,party in a roar of Hughter. answer for myself, I am the Lady for

\v horn this officious party are enquiring.A respectable looking old clergyman

hearing the " shrill clarion'' of Lady " Madam," returned he, « I assureCavil, thrust his head out of the win- you once more, that you are not thedow of the stage coach, to demand the person they are seeking for ; they saidcause of the sudden uproar. " Only they were following a young Lady ; aa young lady who eloped last night, Lady who had eloped from her friends.''and is reclaimed by her friends," an-swered Lady Cavil. Poh! poh! nonsense! I tell you ; but

I shan't stay to convince such an im-" Then, Madam, you have missed pertinent old pedant; open the door,

the objetf of your pursuit/'returned the coachman :" saying this, she quittedtraveller, " for I assure you there are *ier astonished companion, who seemedno passengers in our carriage but this extremely rejoiced at her departure,worthy old gentlewoman and myself."

We VOL. ii. F Miss

JO SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 51

Miss Winterton now advanced to- mind flushed over her lovely counte-wards us, and looking disdainfully at nance,—" is that the language of ame, declared, that if she had known woman of education? I really blush,4hat she was to encounter the insolent Miss Winterton, to hear you utter asarcasms of that Badgering Baronet, threat so ill-bred and illiberal."she should certainly have proceeded toLondon. " That the Lady is gentle," rejoined

I, " will, I believe, be a matter oftg Come, come, Miss Winterton," some doubt; but that she is a woman

said Lady Cavil, " this is carrying the is evident, from her credulity yester-jest too far, it does not require the day evening and the proof we haveskill of a magician to devise your mo- witnessed of her recent conquest."live for proceeding to London."

ff Sir," retorted our enraged spin-" My Lady Cavil," interrupted Miss ster> " if by y°ur impertinent innuen-

Winterton, while her features bore does y°u allude to my having beentestimony to the irritation of her mind, duped by the machinations of that" I warn you to let me hear no more bamboozling priest, Mr. Henry Court-scandal; remember, that a gentle- ne}'> l must keg leave to remark, thatwoman is not to be slandered with I am not the first young Lady who hasimpunity." êen drawn aside by your deluding sex."

« Oh, fie!" exclaimed Lady More- As * f°«nd that her rage increased,land, as the indignation of her polished l desired Lady Cavil to soften her sar-

mind F 2 castic

52 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 53castic severity, and assist me in per-suading Miss Winterton to return f T_,r.1-,t> ~ r , T T.,, JLili I 1 JbK V ill.with us.

LAURA FITZ-OWEN,After much soothing and flattering, T0 SOPHIA CLEVELAND.

I undertook to be the Sir ClementCottrell of the occasion, and after hand- Lausanne, Seft. 179 .ing her into the carriage, with all the J AM this instant returned from theformality of the vieille cour, proceeded farm of Terese de Bourais, where I foundwith our reclaimed runaway to the a letter from my cousin, Mr. Percival;Priory, from whence 1 now write. a letter which has awakened all my re-

grets, and filled my heart with the mostYou shall hear from me again when ex* reme affliction.

Courtney arrives, I dare say he uillafford fresh subjeel for entertainment. He certainly is yet ignorant of his

uncle's intentions respecling an allianceDear Percival, for him, he professes that sort of esteem,

for I dare not call it by a more tenderYours, name, for me, which convinces me

that he is now unacquainted with his %FRANCIS COLVILLE, destiny.

Alas! Sophia, what shall I say inanswer'to his letter? Shall I be the

LETTER F 3 messenger

«54 SHRINE OF BERTHA, SHRINE OF BERTHA. 5,'S"

messenger of urn pi easing intelligence? candour, and respecl: me for my dis-Shall I occasion a pang in the bosom cretion,of Edward Percival ? Impossible!"

There is nothing in his letter thatThe common rules of politeness wil l can present a single hope to my ima-

forbid my silence ; yet, ought I to hold gination—beycnd the most perfecta clandestine correspondence \\ i th one friendship; I thank heaven he onlywho is on the point of marriage with esteems me as a relation—for anyanother woman f Certainly not. professions of love, would, circum-

stanced as he will shortly be, over-Then \vill not remorse agonize my whelm me with despair: 1 trust I should

breast, if I deceive Madame St. Bruno ? have fortitude to refuse his hand soShe who has been a mother to me • Oh! promised to another—but the only safe -my soul shrinks at the idea of hypo- resolution a feeling mind can • lake, iscrisy ; I will answer his letter, but my to avoid every shadow often, ition.dear Monitress shall see what I wri te :there can be no cause for dread where I shall immediately shew Mr. Perci-there is nothing to conceal, and I would cival's letter to Madame St. Bruno, Inot have the perpetual fear of exposure hope she will suffer me to answer it;upon my mind for all that the universe if only a single line, to say that I amcould bestow, not even for the affection grateful for his good opinion.of the amiable Edward, He will, if hehas a generous liberal mind, if, I know Yet, why does he write to me at all ?be has, therefore he will applaud my I w i l l not try to discover his motive; I

candour, will

S& SHRINE OF BERTHAt SHRINE OF BERTHA. 67

will not suppose, even for an instant,that he had any reason for remember-ing me ; I will attribute his attentionsto the impulse of biemeance: I know he T -^—T,., TV• .1 .,. c .,. i- i , LtCij. L Jc*K IX.is the epitome of every thing polished;I am not indebted to him, but to na-ture, that made his mind so perfect. EDWARD PERCIVAL,

I shall call upon Terese this evening, TO LAURA FITZ-OWEN.and tell her, that if any more lettersarrive, after I depart, she may send Rome,.Sept. 179**them to Vienna. I long to have an WILL charming cousin, par-opportunity of convincing Madame don me for addressing you ? Will youSt. Bruno of my candour. bdieve tha(. my solidtude for your

I have not mentioned the letter to happiness and my earnest wishes toMiss Warton, she would ridicule Mr. hear of its continuance, prompt myPercival's civility, and I could not bear Pe" *<> trouble you with this unex-to hear his name mentioned disres- petted interruption ?peclfully.

I have written three letters to Ma-Adieu, my dear Sophia, faithfully dame st Bruno^ but have not been

Yours, honored with any answer: I did hope,to embrace the bewitching characlers

LAURA FITZ-OWEN. Qf y(Jur pen . b^ , guch an jn_

LETTER stance

£8 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BEIITHA. £9

stance of condescension was not or- It is the very extent of my ambitiondained to enchant my senses. to acquire your good Opinion . your

excellent heart and uncontaminatedMy tour has afforded but little mind must be the sources of all that is

amusement, and still less instruaion; I worfchy of inlitation and csteem , j look

know not how it is, but I have one -n vain for your resemblance in theseBeing perpetually before me~I can luxurious regions, * here all is decep-only think of what I have seen, and t,on^ and every heart pants for trangi_the recolleftion places every new objecl tory pleasures: Hapless beings? theyin an unfavorable point of view. know not the charm of sodety like

yours, or that the most supreme delightI shall, however, proceed on my the human mind can experience is that

route, and with your permission will of contemplating the perfections ofgive you an account of my travels. Laura Fitz-Owen.Happy should I be, if you would sug-gest those pursuits which you think Forgive me, my lovely cousin, youmost advantageous ; if you would be- sce j take upon me a]ready the privilegecome my preceptress, amiable Laura, of relationship, and, by daring to utterevery path would appear scattered with the truth, evince my good taste, androses, the air ambrosial, and the scenes pay tjie tribute due to your superiordecked with eternal splendour, had I qualifications. Pray write to me, ifsuch a guide! I will not tell you my only to say that you honor me withprospeas now, you will, perhaps, doubt your friendship, I ask no more; pre-rny veracity. sumption

It

60 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE of BERTHA. 61

sumption shall not be reckoned in thecatalogue of my follies. LETTER X

Charming Laura, adieu! do not EDWARD PERCIVAL,forget your admiring friend and affec- TO SIR FRANCIS COLVILLE.tionate cousin, „Rome, Sept, 179..

DEAR COLVILLE,

EDWARD PERCIVAL. I ONLY remain here a few days, inhopes of an answer to a letter I havewritten to Switzerland, and to enjoythose researches, from which I wasdebarred by the perpetual buffooneryof my facetious countryman, Sir RobertLittleworth.

He is gone to Florence, whither Ishall soon follow him, not for the plea-sure of his enlightened conversation,but because I shall then be some milesnearer to all that I adore upon earth.

The abhorrence I feel at the idea ofprejudice, conceiving it only to be theoffspring of little minds, prevents my

LETTER VOL. ii. G taking


taking any antipathy to the people of hundred and eighty years before thethis capital on account of traits existing Christian JEra, would, even in its pre-upon record against them; lean be- sent state, cause thecheek of some of ourlieve, that friendship is the inmate modern architects to glow with shame,of a Roman breast, even while I con-template the spot where Csesar fell by Of the pantheon, creeled by thethe poignard of Brutus! And though Emperor, 'Augustus Caesar, we have aan hundred and seventy women were wretched imitation raised by—sub-condemned to suffer death, on the scription ! But it is impossible to judgesingle assertion of a slave, who accused °r the beauty of our public edifices,them of having conspired to poison the *hi]e they are surrounded by stablecitizens; I can credit the idea, that yards, taverns, breweries, and black-gallantry towards the bewitching sex, smith's shops! necessary evils thatstill exists in the mind of an Italian! ought to be confined to their properBut I can scarcely believe, from the sphere, like many others—that disgracespecimens I have beheld of the Roman this, country.Matrons of the present day, that some _, t u t . ,

/ . , . , . * j -i. *et, I shall forbear any more re-of their great grandmammas commit- . m, J ,,. , - . f . ti . U A ^ I marks on our smoky Metropolis, lestted suicide to preserve their chastity! . . . J . „ „ / . ,., . . . , , , you should suppose me mfcfted withAlas! how is the race degenerated. .. . .. ,, * . , . ., _° the spirit of reformation, and while I

T . , ,, . „. P have power to restrain my pen, I sub-I have, under the protection or my ., ir. J ri U * 11- • •+ j *u -r i scribe myself,learned Mortem, visited the 1 em pie

of Mars, which, though built three Yours,hundred G 2 EDWARD PERCIVAL.

«4 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHUINE OF BERtHA. 65

My dear Sophia, I read my cousin'sletter to Madamc St. Bruno, and she

LETTER XI. has positively enjoined me not to an-swe/ it! Her injunctions were arcom-

LAURA Firz-owEN, pan led by looks'so touching, words soTO SOPHIA CLEVELAND. ambiguous, and a manner so impres-

sive,, that 1 dared not even oiler anLausanne, Sept. i7n,, . , ..

T y expostulation.HAT abhorrence of deceit which in-

duced me to disclose Mr. Percival's Doubtless she has heard of his intcn-Letter to Madame St. Bruno, has per. ded marriage ; and the penetrationhaps inflicted the severest penance that with which she surveys all the trans-my heart could possibly experience. art ions of life, perhaps induces her to

take such precautions as \vill preventIf candour is to be rewarded with the any future reflections on my conduct,

punishment of regret, where is thejustice we hope for from heaven ? I do I ought to applaud her circumspec.not say, that we ought to expert a re- tion—but, alas! my dear friend, wecompence for such artions as our duty are apt to consider the prudent counseltowards society demands ; but there of those entrusted with the care of ourshould be some compensation, in this education, as the barbarous shacklesworld of hypocrisy, for those who des- of a too severe restriaion :—Madame-pise its deceptions, St. Fruno can have no motive but to

shield me from danger; and reason,My C 3 gratitude.,


gratitude, all the sentiments of my 1 know but little of the world, yet Iheart, demand my compliance. have such a rooted antipathy to every

in terested idea, that if I possessed greatThe unfortunate discovery of MP, wealth, I believe ! should never marry,

Percival's pi£hire, has, perhaps, awak- fearing it would be the cause of myened her suspicions.; but she ought to husband's preference; I should thinkknow, that the Biind,,susceptible of the I had purchased his every smile, andmost refined sensations, is incapable of should rather attribute his attentionsa mean or degrading action. The idea to the gifts of fortune, than those ofthat my cousin is betrothed to the heir- nature,ess of Lord Granniore, would induceme to rejecl any clandestine overtures I should not esteem Mr. Percival sohe could make; the heart that is worthy much as I do, if he were wholly inde-

' of my acceptance must never know pendent; every addition to his \\ealthrepentance of its choice; its hopes, its \\ould, by placing him at a greateraffeftions, must be devoted to me only. distance, check the warmth of my es-I think similarity of sentiment as ne- teem ; for a vast difference of rank iscessary to ensure felicity, as equality of the bane of love, which more fre-nge; neither could I bear the future quently seeks the cottage than thereproaches of his mercenary guardian, palace, because equality is congenial\vho would deem my want of fortune to its influence,the greatest crime attached to thename of woman. • Miss Warton is no longer the friend

of1 know

£8 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 69

of ray heart; she is jealous of Madame am a vain boaster, for, alas! I fearSt. Bnmo's kindness towards me, and those thoughts are not to be so easilytreats me with an insolent hauteur, controuled,which, while it excites my pity, makesme smile, because 1 feel its want of Adieu, Sophia,power to hnrt me.

Sincerely and affectionatelyWe shall be detained here six weeks

longer, on account of some formali- Yours,ties requisite to be observed previousto the departure of our beloved abbess, LAURA FITZ-OWEN.The good old nun, Claudine Laval,who is a great favourite, wil l accom-pany us to Germany ; she nursedMadame St. Bruno from her infancy,and though I do not remember thekindness of a mother, I can readily con-ceive, that a rooted affeciion is thecertain consequence of early and ten.der impressions.

I shall soon direct my thoughts tosaew and livelier scenes; you see I

amLETTER

70 SHRINfe OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 71

Miss Winterton is also very impa-tient to visit London, I believe that

LETTER XII. you are the cause of all her woe. 'Tis

really scandalous that a man of yourSIR FRANCIS COLVILLK, sacred function should amuse himselfTO HENRY COURTNEY. by seducing the unsuspecting inno-

tent mind of this fair young creature!«***,, oa. „,.. Since , am rdating the vidssitudes of

MY DEAR COURTNEY, love, I may as well confess that theJL ou may spare yourself the trouble adorable Lady Moreland has made a

of a journey into Berkshire, our party sort °^ a scratch upon my ci devaniis most completely deranged, and we impenetrable heart, but her \\orthy Lordall seem destined to wander different intends to pass the \unterin Italy,, andways. as I Iiave no inclination to travel a

thousand miles upon a sleeveless er-This Morning Lady Cavil received rand., I must even relinquish my lovely

a letter from her warlike spouse, Sir summer rose, and content myself withJames, announcing his re turn—on tormenting that frozen bud of beautvreading this intelligence, she appeared Helleborous Winterton.to be uncommonly rejoiced—yet thegloom her features displayed, during The gallant Sir Hervey Wentworththe remainder of the day, did not ex- nas accepted an apartment in my houseaclly correspond with the first raptu- ^^ the end of November, after whichrous impulse. . period

Miss

T2 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 73

period all the eloquence of Cicerowould not prevent his displaying thehospitalities of Charleton Priory. LETTER XIII.

Sophia Cleveland being of age in LAURA FITZ-OWEN,three months, will unquestionably re- TQ ^ CLEV£LAND

turn to town, and fix on some happyhero, who will be the bane of thy re- £<tw««p«, Off. 179,,pose, and with whom I hope she will YESTERDAY, the sixth of Oclober, be-revenge the infidelities of thy summer ing the fete de St. Bruno, the villagerscampaign. prepared a rural festival, in compli-

ment to our amiable abbess. The farmI hear that our friend, Edward Per- of old Terese was the grand rendez-

cival, is coming home, to take unto vous; she had decorated her homelyhim a wife; I am sure he's very oblig- mansion with a simplicity, more strik-ing; and I dare swear we shall all ing than the most costly fabric couldthank him heartily. have exhibited. The trees before the

thatched dwelling were ornamentedAdieu, Sophia does not send her with Wreaths of flowers> fragments of

compliments. ribbon, and small square pieces ofYours, Slass» These are gaudy trappings of

which you have no idea in EnglandTRANCIS COLVILLE. ^ ^ . ^ J^

during the Carnival, in the villagesLETTER 4 VOL. it. H aud


and small towns of Germany and S \\i t~ rendered them the most charming ob-zerland. jefts that fancy can picture, or truth

describe.The fare within was equally gay with

the exterior appendages ; all the fruits They dance wonderfully well! Everyof the season in the greatest perfec- movement is natural and captivating ;tion ; eggs, dressed in a variety of they wear no stays; their jackets areways ; white bread, new cheese, and laced tight as corsets, and the form be-wines of the most delicious flavour, ing thus at ease, becomes exquisitelyft ed a repast more luxurious than graceful, and perfectly unl ike ouran imperial banquet. English women, \ \ho conceal both

beauty and deformity beneath a tightTerese, \Uio is near seventy years whalebone armour, and a long slo-

of age, danced on the green with her venly petticoat,old bongarcon, and was as lively as theyoungest in the group. The peasants were habited with

equal neatness, their hats were deco-The village lasses were neatly dress- rated \vith coloured ribbands, the

ed ; the white jacket, coloured petti- pledges of artless affection ; \ve dancedcoat, the hair curiously braided, and till the moon rose, and even then re-the simple handkerchiefs fastened luclantly separated.round their heads, and adorned withboquets of real flowers, similar to those In the course of the evening, fa-which half concealed their bosoms, tigued w i t h the unceasing exercise of

rendered U 3 ^ the


the day, I sat myself on a bench under grieved to see it interrupted by sor-a tree beside the loquacious old Terese row."—she had laughed and chatted fromtiie hour of sunrise, and nature at " Heaven forbid!" replied she,length began to languish for repose. " that I should give her a moment's

pain ' She is too good a woman not toOn a sudden she became pensive, and expect happiness ; thci c never \\as her

bursting into tears, seemed over- equal—except one."whelmed with some unwelcome reaol-kaion of painful import. " You need not make the excep-

tion,"' returned I, " she is unequalled!""Terese;5 said I, "you have ex- The ok! uoman clasping her hand,

hausted your spirits, yo'u shall drink ^"ghcd deeply.some liqueur, your vivacity is beyondyour strength. Shall I go and get " * ou did not know the Lady Ber.;0me refreshment for you ?» ljia'" rePlied &hc> " "eaven bless her,

she s a saint; that's certain "

She continued to weep."The Lady Ber tha 1 wha t of he r?

She gazed at me for a moment, and Oh ! tell me, my dear Terese, tell meher tears flowed abundantly. " What all }ou know -" Mid I, \ \hi lc my bloodaffiicls you ?" added I, "this is a day seemed to o\vn a qukkcned t i r cu la -of festivity, Madame St. Bruno will be tion, and my lips quivered \ \ i th trein-

grieved bling solicitude. « Oh! 'tis a longH3 and

78 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF EERTHA. 79

and dismal story ; she is dead, ^he died approached us, smiling ; never didat your convent. I never shall forget I feel a virtue in dissembling tillInr ; Heaven knows. fe Yes, she ex- then,pired within your walls. I know it,Tcrese, but who was she? How long "Why don't you dance, Laura?"has she been dead ?" said she, " has Teresc set you the ex-

ample of idleness ? Are you not welj,"She was,'> continued the simple my dear child r You look sorrowful';

old soul, « the sister of Madame St. l fcar> m^ dear Laura' that the f*-Bruno; the only darling sister, and <;f esot th<; da? have been too power-

i ^ t u-o T^/r ful for you.just such another as hersehY My sur- J

•prise was infinite! t t . , . ,, „1 I rose, she took hold of my arm, and

•we joined the throng, who were nowI leaned my head against the tree, to almost hidden in the^hades of twilight,

recover my faculties, almobt over- I uas silent with astonishment at \\hatv/helmfd by such intelligence. The Tcrese had revealed to me.cood venerable woman continued herstory—" She was god-mother to my « >Tis near the hour of vespers, Igrandbon, * ho \ \asborn this day eight- nuibt go>- said Madame St. Bruno,teen years, the same hour his poor ,< i>ut jf you and the rcst of the Eng*mother died. lish girls, like to stay, Terese \ \ i l l

send her grandson to see you safeAt this moment Madame St. Bruno home, Claudine will remain wi th you,

approached but

80 SHRINE OF BERTHA. UnUNE op BLllTHA. 8l

but mind, you must not remain above „ Why, that I cannot tell: Shortlyan hour longer ; remember, my dear afler she came to Lausanne> j went to

Laura, our gates are shut at nine/' sce my friends in Languedoc, I re-mained wi th them five years, aiid \\hen

I joyfully accepted her proposal, .lie , returnedj , found that the Lady Ber.desired the protection ot a rustic, and tha dead> fln(J , never heflrdreturned to the convent. thing more about t])e chnd . l ^

I instantly ran to Tercsc, and con- hLe ! left c°n*ent> othc™ise >'ou

, , . , .., , , - . \ v o u l d k n o v v h e r b y h e r n a m e ; they sayHired h e r t o proceed with h e r history - , - , , ,/ ,, A, T , „ ,, her lather s relations are very rich and'of the Lady Bertha, ,. ,,^ powerful, and of high quality. ——(f Ma foil" said she, <r I don't kno\v

much: I recollea xvhen she can.e to " What *as her family namc> can

the convent, nextfite de nod it \\ ill be > ou tel1 me ?"nineteen years, she was extremelybeautiful, and somewhat younger than " I cannot recollea," said Terese,your Lady Abbess. She was a mar- " but she used to come to our farmried lady, some said she \\as a widow, very often, and walk in our garden,for she had a little girl with her, a and read; she made my husba.id buildfine baby, as like her mother as two a bosquet of roses and myrtle, and shedaisies." vs ou^ s^ beneath their shade for whole

hours and cry sadly—I have some of'< Is her daughter still in the con- her books now within, and if you have

vent ?" a mind you shall see them,"« \Vhy> I thanked


I thanked her, and eagerly begged snatched up the -volume which lay na

that she would go with me into the the floor; again I read the name, andhouse, and gratify my \\ish. again my perturbation was extreme.

We went to her chamber, she took " Will you give me this book Te-a parcel from her drawer, inclosed in reser'1 said I, earnestly, and half put-tv\enty papers ; she unwrapped them ting it into my pocket while I spoke.carefully, and the first she gave me Ieagerly opened, it was an edition ol " Aye, and welcome, I cannot readItalian Poems; on the title page \sn^ it/" replied she, '« Tis of no use towritten, me. By your being so frightened at

only looking into it, i suppose 'tis*' BERTHA, COUNTESS OF cKAKMORr." ôme dismal tale, and \\c have all trou-

bles enough in this world withoutIt fell from my trembling hand, and reading melancholy histories, I really

I fainted. t h i n k these k ind of books made theLady Bertha so sad, for she used to

On my recovery, I found Miss War- weep over them for hours together/'ton supporting my head against herbosom—she kissed my ibiehead, 1 al- I told Belinda I was ready to attendmost forgave her former u n k i n d n e s s " her; \\e joined the other pensionersSo soothing is sympathy to the heart/ and proceeded towards home, Wepressed by contending sorrows! In were obliged to go close by the shrinethe first moment of recollection, I of Bertha, the moon shone clear, and

,M3tc lH ' . l ' \he

84 SHRINK OF BERTHA. SHRINE ^ ^

the serene air scarcely fanned the Thus has ^ ^leaves of ivy that mantle the rum • ]>cen awakened without a

As we passed the great arch, I plainly the cvents fuU . y

saw the turf glittering with dew . Oh! deed , am farfchcr from ' 'Sophia, what *ere my feelings ? because de]icacy wm ob%c

u i, ^T u • be silent Uôn the '•"^jeft, on accountI returned to my chamber, the whoie of Madame St Bruno.night was passed in ruminat ing on thename, and divining who could be the Adieu^ deflr §

daughter of Lady Granmore ; the re- * 'suit of my night's study was, that bne Affbaionately yoursmust have been conveyed to some 'other part of the continent, for no ^^ such name remained MI the convent .

At day break I opened my book,which I had placed under my p i l lou ,and upon examining the pages I ob-served several passages marked \ \ i th apencil, and the name of Arthur wi it-ten in many places, and in some, near-ly effaced by blots, which appear tohave been the tears of the unhappyreader.

V01-ft- 1 LETTER

86 SHRINE OF BERTHA,SHRINE OF BERTHA. 87

LETTER XIV.

EDWARD PERCIVAL, LETTER XV.

TO SIR FRANCIS COLVILLE.

Rome, 03. ,„.. LAURA mZ-OWEN,

I HAVE only time to say, that I am TO SOPHIA CLEVELAND.determined this night to set out forLausanne. ^ LWUUUU, >/,, i79,_

1 HE day after to-morrow we departI know you will condemn my eccen- Every thing is arranged for the jour,

trie resolution,, you v ill laugh at my ljey.romantic exploit, but I can pardonyou for both. My time has been much occupied in

finishing a piece of embroidery, for theYou have-never seen Laura Fitz- altar of our new chapel; for as I had

OwenJ nearly ^ne it, I did not like that itEDWARD PERCIVAL. Sll0uld l^ co™P*eted by other hands.

1 was this morning early at mv*ork, when Madame St. Bruno en-tered. « Laura/' said she, "you are

LETTER VCry dili£ent indeed !" I raised my

1 2 eyes,

I1I(

88 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. $9

eyes, and was going to answer—at perhaps wilt come, when the secret ofthat instant I observed her take up the her mournful life will be known Itbook given to me by Terese ! I had was her last request, that it should notjust been reading, and had unguard- be divulged till a stated period ;—thatedly laid it on my frame. She opened period is not far distant—and there isit carelessly. but one person ordained to know it."

I could not prevent her seeing its ^Rely on my fidelity," said I, ris-contents; it was too late; she turned ing and embracing her, « I wouldas pale as ashes, and trembling en- rather expire than wound your sensi-quired where I had found it, bility."

"Oh! my dear Madam," said I, " I believe you," rejoined Madame" be not alarmed, I had it from Te- St. Bruno, « and never will again of.rese de Bouvais. She knows not where fend your delicate mind by further in-*the Lady Bertha is buried, or the junctions. I kissed her trembling"cause of her death. The secret shall hand — and she quitted my a part-rest in my bosom." ment.

«' I hope it will," replied Madame I wish, Sophia, you would enquireSt. Bruno; Nay, I most earnest!} at what place the daughter of Lordconjure you, to promise most sacredly Granmore resides; I am anxious tothat it never shall transpire in the know more, of her connexions withconvent. She TV as my sister! a time the Litchfield family, and why she is

Perhaps , 3 ^

90 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHIIINE OF BERTHA. PI

the destined wife of Mr. Percival.—Direct your answer to me as beforementioned, at Vienna.

LETTER XVI.Adieu,

SOPHIA CLEVELAND,Yours faithfully,

TO LAURA FITZ-OWEN.LAURA IITZ OWEN.

London, Nov. 179-,

MY DEAREST LAURA,

Y ESTERDAY evening we arrived inTown from Charleton Priory. LadyCavil has received a letter from SirJames, intimating his intended return.This intelligence, which, from hisamiable character, and the affectionshe professes for him, ought to occa-sion great satisfaction, seems to haveproduced a most contrary effect. Thatgaicte de cteur which formerly markedevery example of her eccentric mind,is now succeeded by the most sullendiscontent. The anticipation of deco-

LETTER ™sf

92 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 93rus constraint seems to have banished of hig health But as he vvishes to a.every prospea of future delight. voi(j travdling through France, in its

present hostile state, he has decided toIn the course of the ensuing month, take yienna in hjs route to Napies<

you will receive a letter from me,through the hands of Lady Moreland, I have not yet obtained any intelli-You will find in my amiable friend gence respeaing Lord Granmore'severy thing to admire and attach. She daughter. I understand she is a nine-is the daughter of one of our most teenth cousin of Lord Litchfield's, andwealthy merchants, who gave her in that the family title is extinct. Ed-marriage to that antiquated son of fa- ward Percival is not yet arrived; and Ishion, Lord Moreland, to indulge his trust he hasstrengh of mind sufficientmania for the name of nobility ; and to resist the tyranny of his sordid re-who fancied, that by quartering his lations. I can forgive the wretch,arms with those decorated by a coro- Nvho, nursed in the lap of obscurity andnet, he acquired consequence ; not re- ignorance, suffers his bewildered ima-collecling that the sterling virtues of gination to be dazzled by the ignis fa-his ancestors for many centuries, \vere tuus of superficial endowments: but thedisgraced- by their alliance with the independent—enlightened mind of Ed-tinsel trappings of modern heraldry. ward Percival! no, Laura, I never can

believe that he will contradict theLady Moreland accompanies her bright promise of early virtues, by

husband to Italy, whither lie is or- yielding himself a voluntary sacrificedered by his physicians for the benefit to interested motives.

of I shall

$4 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINK OF BERTHA. 95

I shall in a short time be of age, and short time you passed in the society ofreceive my fortune ; which will afford the world, was at so early an age, thatme little gratification, unless lam you were in capable x>f forming any de-destined to share it with Courtney.— cisive opinion.Happy shall I be to convince theworld that my heart, at least is not Adieu,swayed by avarice, and to prove thatI consider the favours of Heaven as be- Sincerely yours,stowed only to afford us opportunitiesof rendering those content who are SOPHIA CLEVELAND.less fortunate.

When I look back upon the last twayears of my life, which I have lost withLady Cavil, since I left the convent atParis ; and compare them with the fewmonths I resided in the neighbourhoodof Geneva, I feel nothing but disgustat the dissipations of life, and only va-lue that period which marked the com-mencement of our friendship!

You will think me pedantic ; butyou are not a competent judge; for the

short LETTER

96 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE of BERTHA. 9?

largest fortunes in this kingdom.—But as I find Lord Litchfield has a!.

LETTER XVII, ready conveyed to you this joyful in-telligence, I shall only add, that you

HENRY COURTNEY, have n^ most heart^ congratulations.

TO EDWARD PERcivAL. Yours faithfully,Nov. 179-,

I CAN scarcely hope that this letter HENRY COURTNEY.will find you in Italy, as, by what isreported in England respecting LordLitchfield's intentions, I conclude youare now hastening to obey his wishes.

Your mother is enraptured at theidea of your intended alliance; and Ibelieve a fortune will not be unaccept-able to you; as good Mrs. Percivalhas very dexterously dissipated theproperty entrusted to her care.

I should not have been the messen-ger of bad news, had I not heard thatyour intended bride has one of the

largest. roL-IJ' K LETTER

98 SHRINE OF BEKTHA. SHH.NE OF BEHTHA. 99

Had I never known the treasure^vhich my Shrine contains, Oh! how

LETTER XVIII. joyfully should I have departed. Lett me not indulge melancholy ideas; I

LAURA FITZ-OWEN, must comfort Madame St. Bruno, forTO SOPHIA CLEVELAND. she wants c°nsolation, and the mo.

ment of distress is the most sacred toLausanne, Sept. 179-. the feelings of genuine friendship.

TIME only allows me five minutes tosay, that the carriages are waiting at Belinda is in high spirits ; a monas-the gate of our convent. I have taken *'c e was always her aversion ; there-leave of the dear old Terese; I have fore 'tis not astonishing that she is de-embraced all the community ; I have lighted at the thought of obtainingreceived the benedidion ofPere Leo- more liberty; and her expectationsnard ; I have wept over the turf that are greatly raised by Madame St. Bru-conceals the remains of Lady Bertha. no's kind promise of much indulgence

when we arrrive at Vienna. It \villOur party consists of Madame St. be some time before she can be per-

Bruno, Miss Warton, Claudine Laval, fe^lY established in her new situation;(our favourite old nun,) and myself; and during the interval we shall residea courier de poste, and two femmes des with her family.chambres,

Poor Claudine seems to regret leavHad ing the ashes of Lady tGranmore, as

K 2 much

JOO SHRINE OF BERTKA. S»RINE °F BERTHA* lOt

much as I do. I love her for her ten-derness, and shall never forget it.

LETTER XIX.Adieu, adieu ; all is ready.

. _ rt. , EDWARD PERCIVAJL,Affectionately yours,TO L AURA FITZ-GWEN.

JLAURA mz-OWEN, Lausanne, Nov. 179-.I WRITE this letter at the abode of Te-resedeBouvais. Ah! Laura, loveliestof women, I can no longer restrainmy frenzy. 1 am overwhelmed withdespair.

I hoped to have found that consola-tion which your presence alone canafford me. With what rapture did Ibehold, far off, the turrets of your oncesolitary habitation. Oh ! God! howdid my heart palpitate when I ap-proached its confines! Judge of myagony, when I found you had quittedLausanne six days. The hour whichfehall announce my departure from this

LETTER K 3 sublunary

102 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 103sublunary sphere, will not bring a Ah! my amiable, my adored cousin!pang so excruciating, if you had resolution to fly from your

prison—if you had confidence in myLaura! I adore you! I never will sincerity—my affection—we might be

marry ; I never will think, except with happy. Say but that you will encou-indifference, of any other woman ! You rage the hope, and you shall see meat thewere the wife of my heart from the first grate of your convent—the humblehour I beheld you. A ceremony of a suppliant—the defender of your ho-few minutes would bind our interests nour- the slave of your commands—in holy bondage; but I am already and, in a few hours, the husband ofthine, for every faculty of my soul your bosom,confesses the union.

Pardon me, Laura ; I am wild withGracious heaven, with what vencra- despair! Console me, I entreat you—

tion do I behold this lowly peaceful or, promise not to forget me. I woulddwelling, which you have so often em- rather be hated than not remembered,bellished \vith your presence! I havetormented Terese with ten thousand I shall not wonder at > our incredu-questions ; I have visited every spot lity> j shall not b]ame 'your cautjOn ;distinguished by your partiality. She j know j am young) and that themust think me distracled. A las! she heal% scarcely able to decide upon itsis not much mistaken. I am indeed mvn feelings, is apt to shrink from thethe most unfortunate of beings, idca of captivity. Youth is the period

ofAh !

104 SHRINE OP BERTHA, SHRINE OF BERTHA. 1O5of capricious fancy; but you do not , ,, c ,,.A i i L it, -, tune should frown coldly on ourknow me, Alas! how should you ? . __ J

till this hour, I never knew myself. union

" Hath Britain all the sun that shines ?The summons of Lord Litchfield has " There>s livins out of Britain r

torn every fibre of my ueart. I am I would smile at the threats of Po-€ommande<i to sell my peace of mind ! verty ; I would toil to support you ; II am recalled to marry a woman I have would labour through the varying sea-&@ver seen; perhaps hateful to my sons like the poorest peasant: yoursight, of a mind unworthy of my at- smiles would reward me ; and whentachment; I will perish rather than be the daily task subsided, we would findthe victim of such an union ! What in a straw roofed habitation, the bless,must be the result of such a marriage? ing of repose ! Repose, the result ofWhat the inevitable progress towards conscious integrity !destruction ? indifference, disgust, ab-horrence, and disgrace! The very Perish the thought that would leadidea fills my soul with horror! me to an interested sacrifice! Laura,

you are to me worlds of treasure 1 I doIs wealth necessary to our happiness? not covet the enjoyments of contrafted

Ah, Laura! can we not live in some minds, who wed for interest, and ra-iremote corner of England—unknown turally despise the objea of their de-..-unenvied—unmolested ? Or if sordid gradation.relations should persecute us, if for-

tune Terese has promised to forward thisletter. She has has also given me your

address

100 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINK OP BERTHA. KtfT

address at Vienna. Barbarous was the favoured happy mortal claims a rightfate which bore you from me. Six lit- »n your affections ; yet, Laura, while Itie days had saved me from distraclion. am absent from you,

" Endless and sharp will be my woes 1I go to England, but you are still « NO ray of comfort shall i see!

with me! —your image is my only con- " And yet, who knows—alas i who knows,SOlation " lf thouwilt e'er remember me!"

A i it. * t. j - *t. * i. • EDWARD PERC1VA1.Alas! how wretched is that being,who feeds his fancy on air-built fascina-tions. Do you ever think of me ? amJ not wholly indifferent to you ? saybut one soothing word; I am in wantof some meek aid to calm my feverishsenses: but I will endeavour to be pa-tient.

Adieu, adieu; forgive my presumpution; receive my vows of unalterablefidelity.

The vast distance between us leavesevery aclion in the mist of obscurity.Perhaps, while I am writing, some

favoured LETTER


Our human do6lor Feasible has de-serted all his power, and proscribedevery thing his heart afforded to cajole

T t7TTT7T> VV " ^ bUt '" Vai"> f01> the SOat haSLETTER XX. got hold of her agai^ and } carry her off.

SIMON GALLIARD,

TO THE REV. H. COURTNEY. FrOm* m°St ob«ging Sir,

LitdjieU Abbey, Nov. 179-, Your humbleservant,S1R* SIMON OALLIARD.

M.Y worthy lady being denounced bythe physician to be in very emigrant

' danger, I cannot help imposing thather desolation will soon take #lace.—She is very solicitress to result with youdeserning the propriety which youngMr Percival will find as AIR after herdepartment from this world. I mostearnestly inquest you to acknowledgethe deceit of this letter, and receed toLitchfield Abbey without future relay.

OurVOL «• L LETTER

110 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. HI

write this, while my chaise is gettingready.

LETTER XXI. You shall hear from me on my arri-val at the Abbey.

HENRY COURTNEY, Yours,

TO SIR FRANCIS COLVILLE. HENRy COURTN£Y,

London, Nov. 179-.

DEAR COLVILLE,

I AM this instant sent for by Mrs.Percival. I cannot tell whether dreadof the exposure which must take placewhen she meets her son t( at count,"or chagrin, owing to her losses at thefaro table, is the cause ; but I find sheis going to take a long credit for one,and become a dormant partner in theother.

Adieu! I have only a moment towrite

L 2 LETTER«

II- SHRINE OF BEHTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. J13

been very handsome; she is sixty-two) ears of age; just seven years younger

LETTER XXII. than her husband; but still lively andengaging.

LAURA FITZ-OWEN,

TO SOPHIA CLEVELAND. The ^"^ ***** °U* ^'^ f °invited Miss \\ arton and myselt to heryunna,Dee. ij,,., assembly. We were accompanied thi-

WE have been five days in this splen- ther b? Madame de Leitzberg, ourdid and luxurious city. You will for- banker's wife, a charming and accom-give me for not \vr i t ing the instant I plished woman. Our adored abbessarrived, when I tell you that we have declines every species of mixed society;had every hour employed in paying fah«, therefore, was happy to place usvisits; and as the Germans are not under the protection of so prudent aonly ostentatious, but hospitable, our chaperone, and requested that sheinvitations have been innumerable, would, to use her own words, " shewboth to see and be seen. tlie children a litt le of the u orld, for,"

added she, " tliey th ink it u a perfectThe Baron de Waldberg, who is paradise; but they wil l find themselves

Madame St. Bruno's uncle, and who mistaken, and be glad to re turn toholds many distinguished places at this lheir "">n&btic quiet.11

court, is the most pleasant and gallantman, of his time of life, I believe, in Thc party at the baroirs was ex-Europe. The baroness, his vife, has tremely splendid ; and as the scene was

l,een L 3 entirely

114 SHRINE OF BERTHA, SHRINE OF BERTHA. Ufi

entirely new to me, Madanie tie Leitz- not mention the compositions of Han-berg was emploj ?d the \vhole evening del, Bach, and Haydn, so much ad-in explaining the names and situations mired in Britain, in order to proveol the different visitors, among whom the justice of my opinion.\\ ere some of the most distinguished cha-racters in the country; you will believe Literature is much esteemed,, andthat in a city, containing two hundred zealously cultivated here. I do notthousand inhabitants,'tis not very dif- like the German, when spoken by aficult to seiecl a brilliant circle, uhere female ; but the French and Latin areeach endeavours to amuse—and self is universally understood in all the bestthe last object which is considered. societies; and, as I have some little

knowledge of the Italian, which nearlyThe women are in general fair and approaches the latter, lam never at

handsome, more like the English than a loss for conversation, though theany other nation. They are lively, French seems my native language,sociable, and unaffected; passionatelyi'ond of dress and play. Their houses You cannot conceive how kind Ma,are more splendid in their exterior, dame St. Bruno has been since ourthan in their furniture, yet they are arrival ; she has presented me a thou-neat and convenient. Hospitality is sand elegant baubles, and ordered alltheir pleasure and their pride. wy articles of dress in the very best

fashion. I do not know my own figure.The music of the country follows Belinda is also much imp oved in looks,

very close upon that of Italy, 1 need but is grown so haughty, that she sel-not dom

116 SHRINE Of BERTHA.SHRINE OF BERTHA. 117

dom condescends to converse with me, ei.A .. , , . .« . . „ , . , scenes through which we. passed TheI am impatient to see your charming _,_ ^ f\ , , _\ „

. • ui r • j T i *T i i prospers on the bordersof the Rh neareand amiable friend, Lady Moreland. »,««^ e n 11-J wonderfully sublime! for frequently,

To-morrow we visit the Imperial \vhfr**n >• nr •, . , , .. . . ,, Where tow ring cliffs, in awful splendour rise,library, Which they tell me IS richly And midst the blue expanse, embrace the skies;embellished with many rare manu- <1,lie won<kring eye beholds the craggy height,

• L. • 11 j • i Tmg'd with the p-Iow of ev'nine-'s fadino- lio-ht- •scripts, coins, medals, and a variety whe^***. ». * «• ? s '1 ^ where the fierce cat'racl, swelling o'er its bound ;Of Other CUrioUS articles, WOrth seeing. Bunts from its source, and dares the vale profound i

On ev'ry side the headlong torrents flow,

We are impatient to go to the thea- Scatt'ring their foara like silvVysands below-tres; but I fear Mad am e St. Bruno wil ldread our becoming too fond of public / C°uld write for ever l!P°n such

amusements,—though she is all good- auljecls; but you will smile to know,ness! Her admonitions command obe- thafc l am SOI*nS wit^ Madame de Wald-dience, by their gentleness and wisdom. berg to a bal ma*W*» at the Duchesse

de Howenstein's; her house is the re-TU t T * • 4 • *• sort of the highest tow. I have a beau-I have been so lost in my admiration ..r , , P ,

r ,u- i • i *u *. T i i tlful dress for the occasion; and Ma-of this charming place, that I had , 0. „ , ', 4. f i. ^ *• *.» i dame St- Br«no has presented me withalmost ioraot to mention the pleasures „ . , , , «c • i -*u r\ j i a rich bandwu of pearls to fasten mvof our lourney hither. Our dear ab- , . , . , , r '«aicu my

u u ^t 4. • * IT 4. c • i hair> which I still suffer to flow neffli-bess has the most intelligent of minds; ., , A , uw "cfau

u i • ^ u• xs. n t- gently about my shoulders,she explained every object \vorthy ot ' -^ •««»•remark, and nothing can equal the i i ,& , , , ,„ ! h°Pc to Pass a delightful evening,scenes-

if

118 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BEHTHA. 119

if the memory of my dear cousin does cho]Vj .vvhich it has so often expe-not interrupt my happiness. For him rienced in that calm shade of holy me-I would quit every gaudy scene, and ditation!retire from this busy world for ever;but, perhaps, by this time, he is mar- Adieu! Be assured that no changeried! all my prospers of this evening of situation can obliterate the memoryare vanished in the recolledion ; no- of your friendship> i hope soon tothing but my evil genius would have hear t|wt Mr Courtney has had ^înspired it at such a moment. ,ution to fix your giddy min(^ and y(m

evinced your good sense by rewardingOur poor Claudine is much indis- ^ merjt-

posed; she is far advanced in years,and I fear the long journey was too Most affeclkmately yours,fatiguing for her to bear. 1 shouldgrieve very much to lose her: she has LAVRA FITZ-OWEN.always been like my nurse from my-infancy, and what endears her to me,more than all, is her delicate regardfor the memory of Lady Bertha.

Oh! let me not think of my dearshrine! All the pleasures of this anima-ted scene cannot give my heart thoserefined sensations, of tender melan-

S*^ choly* LETTER*v-v'- - ~


serted ; and if I could find language tostrengthen my solemn asseverations, I

LETTER XXIII would repeat them a thousand times.

EDWARD PERCIVAL, A small instance of kindness on yourpart will make me the happiest of mor-

TO LAURA FIT2-OWEN. tals The few months of my Jife w hich

Calah, Dec. 179-. I have passed in the society of yourALMOST within sight of my native sex, gave me no flattering idea of theirhome, where I shall perhaps receive perfections ; but you have poured con-the sentence that will decide my fate v'ltiion into m? heart> l feel eve'Tin this precarious world, my heart vein confess ûr Power' and eveiTprompts me to remind you of its suf- J°y will hereafter depend on your hu-ferings and its resolution. inanity.

I trust by this time you have receiv- The death of my father» uhile l wased the hasty letter which I wrote from ?ct an infant' and the ""bending se-Lausanne ; and lest you should attri- vcnty of " movers te^per, haugh-bute its contents to the momentary ef- ^ "nSeatle. and ""kind, banishedfed of disappointment, or the caprice me fr°m n^ fa"li]>^ and l s"ê!yof a warm imagination checked by the ^ ^xPene»ced the sensations of. r . i j u- n r u "lial affection.absence of a beloved object, for whom

its fondest hopes were cherished, I nowdispassionately confirm all I then as. M? mothcr* hatred seemed to en-

serted; VOL<"' M crease

122 SHRINE OF BERTHA.SHRINE OF DLRTIIA. 123

crease with my years; and t he influ- , . . , , ,, , , , , . , . , . , year, dissipated my fortune, in everyence she had obtained over the mind J ' v . . J

c e ,, , ,. ,,. , . absurd and expensive pursuit,or my rather, obliged him to leave meentirely in her po\\er during her life. _ t ri „ . . c ClI have often fel t the torce of her

_. . , , , IT c n neglect, and considering myself as pe-The instant I was capable of refleo f. . L . . . ° , f., . , . ,, cul iarly wretched in not k n o w i n g thetion. I was placed under the care ol a , ! - , . , - , 7.„ , . , n , supreme delight, wh ich maternal ten-tutor: from him I v\as tranferred to . ' , ^ "• ,^ c . , r . , nerness bestows even on the poorestOxford; and from thence ordered to „, . . , . . I, . , oirspnng oi poverty and labour,

make the tour of Italy.

Thus, an alien to a mother's heart, Thus> imp™*ed with an unfavour-I never felt its tenderness. Reproof able °Pinion of the female mind« l

has ever been the subjca of her pen, ledve ^'ou to JudSe xUiat l feit vvhen l

and repulsive coldncbs the cl.ararlcr- fir^ acknowledged jou r virtues, alli.tic of her cpibtles. She banished me V*™&, all amiable——as you are!without a tear, and t.ught me to de- fhere uas more solicitude in yourceive her, by making me the dupe of look and m*n™r> thai^ l had ever be-perpetual deception. Though my fa- fore experienced. Is it astonishingthcr'a property uas very considerable, that l *as the slave ot such "ew» suchher unfeeling mind has scarcely suf- bcxvi tching kindness?fered her to allow me the necessariesof life ; while she has, from year to l slla11 proceed to London without

year, delay. The worst calamity that canbefall me, is not equal to the torments

M 2 cf

124 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA, 12£

of suspense. I expeft the resentment I am just returned from the Pier,of Lord Litchfield—he may disinherit tjie wjnd blows a perfeft hurricane,me, he may take from me every hope the sea swells, high as the white cliffsof affluence—but he shall not contami- that mark the shores of Britain. Inate my mind, or render me unwor- have ^tched a distant vessel, bornethy of your esteem. My mother will on the roaring waves, one momentnot leave me a beggar; she will scarce. lifted to the ciollc]s, the next, almostly dissipate all my patrimony, and a buried between the foaming billowsvery scanty pittance will suffice, if I that seenied to threaten instant de-am blessed with your aflfeaion. But struaion ! If, for a moment, the windwhy do I think of interested claims ? wag hushed> we distinaiy heard theAvarice and Laura must not be men- crfes of the sufFerers^ hanging on thetioned at the same moment. tattered shrouds!

I am impatient to embark ; the wea- ^ty soul shuddered at the idea, thatther is unfavourable; but my anxiety perhaps a father was doomed to sinkdeadens every idea of danger. 1 will amidst the ho\\l ing tempest, and leaveendeavour to obtain information re- a {o"d wife, a numerous offspring, inspeaing the time of the packet's de- poverty and anguish.

P ' As I contemplated the warring ele-* * „, * # # ments, I thought with Zanga,

.4. * * * * * " ê bear a just resemblance of my fortune," And suit the gloomy habit of my soul!"

I am M 3 Oh!


Oh! most adorable of Beings! what But, I have scarcely power to de-have you made me? You have sof~ scribe the fatal event, she overset, theytened my once cold, unfeeling breast,, struggled with the elements, and byto the tenderness of a woman ! For wonderful exertions, reached a land-your sake I have betrayed a weakness mark which stands in the channelôf mind, which upon any other occa- about fifty yards from the Pier,sion, would have made me despise my-self. I have wept! Yes, Laura, I have For several minutes they had re-wept like an infant. mained in this dreadful situation,

grasping their last resource, the wavesThursday NO^ everv »nstant dashing over their heads I

*» .f j t , , , ,, T , when five French sailors, prompted byMerciful heaven! how shall I de- , . , , , . ,, ^ u., ., . . . , .. ,, humanity, embarked in a small fish-scribe the scene I have just witnessed ?- . , « • • *. Ting-boat to their assistance. In vaiftT,, -, T. , . ,-. , - , . did the surrounding multitude expos-The English vessel, which I had T _ , ,. , , .f, , . . . , tl tulate,——in vain represent the cer-watched with so much anxiety—is lost! _ . . _, r , „

0, f , , .... , ff . c tainty of death. They were deaf toShe foundered within half a league of . , . . , . ,„ , . , , ,-, r, ° . the voice of reason, and inspired withCalais harbour. Four of her unfortu. A, L ,,. ,., .,, „ , . . the most sublime philanthropy, in anate crew, before she sunk, commit- A, t .„ : . .. ,, .. . . . „ il „ . cause that will immortalize theirted themselves to the rage of the fun- ., . , , ,„ ? . j c names—they penshe^!ous waves, in a small boat> and, fora short time, seemed to weather out T,, u. „ » , , .. , ,, .' The objects who had excited theirf I\t* ^frftF¥tt compassion, exhausted by fatigue, lost

But, their

128 SHRINE OP BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 129

their hold, and, one by one, droppedinto Eternity' *y ' LETTER XXIV.

* * * * * * *LAURA FITZ-OWEN,

* * * * * *TO SOPHIA CLEVELAND.

friday Morning, Eight o'clock. Vienna, Dec, 179-.

I am this instant going on board; the SUCH an event has taken place—suchwmd has fallen, and the day is serene^ a discovery! You will scarcely giveAdieu, Laura, adieu, arbitress of my me credit, when I relate the circum-fatel dear star of perfection, by whose stance. Alas! my dear Sophia, I didsuperior lustre, I trust I shall be guid- not believe that there existed a being,ed through this wilderness of sorrow. so deceitful as—her, whom I no longer

call my friend.i EDWARD PERCIVAL.

I informed you ;n my last letter,* Jhilanecdote is a fa6h The drcui»st»nce hap- that we were invite.d to a bal masque,

pened a few years since, and the monument ereftcd to at the DuctlCSSC de Howensteinfi Thethe memory of those brave fellows, now remains on „ WUCIMSSC OC llOWCnstem S. 1 HC

i the Pier at Calais. Baroness de Waldberg \v • ^lightedwith the idea of contributing to ouramusement. We were no less anxiousto partake of an entertainment, sonew and splendid!

LETTER The

SHRINE OF BERTHA. 131130 SHRINE OF BERTHA. ft Heav'nes," said Miss Warton,

The house was magnificently illumi- „ wbat e have we here ? pnated; the baroness wore the habit of ]et ug gQ intQ another apartm8ntj toa Venetian Bourgeoise; Madamc de avoid Hm . gee/, continued ghLeitzberg, that of a Sicilian Paysanne ; with ft gneer of CQnte t „ h(W ,. _Miss Warton, and myself, were dress- ]y your amiab,e cousjn musfc ed as Savoyards. spoken of you to h|s countrymen^ by

this stranger's familiar conversation !We had not been five minutes in the But l am not surprized . for he never

room, when a mask accosted us: w;ls> in my opinion> that' model of per_fe<5tion which I believe you thought

« Well, my dainty," said he, " how him There ig no doubtj tha(. your

long have you left your Popish habita- ridiculous partiality for him has beention? What have you done with old the subjeft of amusement for all hisgoverness Browno? When did you revelling associates!"hear from Cousin Edward ?"

I felt the force of the remark, andI started at the name, and entreated could scarcely refrain from tearg>

the stranger to unmask,« Let us go," said I. The mask,

« Know a tnck worth two on t,' perceiving my uneasiness, again ac-said he; "not to be taken in so nei- costed me „ ^ther, my little Smiler ; hav nt travel- w ith £dward^ harf a knQck down led for nothing." tipijed him the go by^ lcft h-m tQ oW

TT , Panther,Heaven s, '

132 SHRINE OF BERTHA. „„„,„„ «SHRINE OF BERTHA. 133

2SS EEL-*this Ume'buri- [££«*a" <"e u«» n°»ody« Dead!" said I in the most evi- My enses confessed his singularity

dent alarm, « where, V*en, what whlle I turned away with abhorrencekilled him? Oh! tell me, I conjure at his ribaldry, but he proceeded withyou.; I could scarcely articulate these that dauntless confidence, which isquestions. alwdys the associate of jgnorance and

- , folly." All a hum, know as well as I do,

,»irof blue eyes dish'd, all to nothing, ,. Don,t flout ]itt]eold jade knocked up, run out of the oflfencCf h ^ «course, not worth a souse." xvay? afraid of oM Baroness WoolbaJ

,r, . „ _ P ,. , , Uey? Vlke]y enough, to scare a body,This collection of odd phrases, not that's the t ruth on't! Quizzical old

one of which was understood by the f rump to be sure!__company, drew a crowd about us.The mask continued. T-, . ,. ,

1 he amiable baroness stood lost in

« Some fun here, this is the go, who Z°^T'' ,"i™"* he mcan ?"thought of seeing you at Madam Hum. ^^1 ' ! "fW heard 8uch odd

drum's, got a letter of credit, drew on "nguage betoi e.old Light-bag for another thousand, T.^ r- i- i

, ' f ^ he Fnglishman resumed his voci-ferous clamour •

VOL. ir. N „ Don,t

134 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE op BCRTHA, m

« Don't you like my language?—— ful yell which he had made> wag thegive you another." war whoop of his country The djs_

may and consternation were unde-He then approached Miss Warton, scribable.

and putting his mouth close to her ear,as if to jvhisper instantly began to Now> f , (o yell. '• tally-ho, to such a deafenmg que, of . tremb|i ^degree, that, frightened by so uinisual ™-nvpC < - h . , « - < • ! , » * i • r i. ... , , p ,,. pi oves that the task is, a painful one.a noise, she shnekod, and fa l l i ng on asofa that stood near her, entirely lost Mlss Warton contlnued insensible .her senses. I desired all the croud to leave us, ex!

cept the Duchesse de Howrnstcin, andThe mask, on perceiving the di- Madame de Leitzberg I h ^ g a n to un-

stress he had occasioned, made his lace her corset, \vh ichfas tencdbeforeescape, vaulting over a piquet table, and xvhich prcvented her tieathingvhich impeded bib fl ight, and leaving freely, ^hen—Oh! heavens! I behelda venerable Chanoine and his ancient on her bosom the portiait I had lost!partner on the floor, to recover from the dca,- resemblance of my amiabletheir amazement at leisure. cousin !

The whole company agreed in opi- Treacherous Belinda! My astonish-nion, that this boisterous stranger was meat chained my tongue . l compla}n.an Indian, disguised in the European ed of sudden indisposition, and re.habit; and concluded, that the dread- quested leave to return home.

ful N 2 Madame

i3t> SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 137

Madame de Leitzberg offered to ac-company me—and I left Miss Wartonto the care of the Baroness. LET i ER XXV.

(

False! False Belinda! sm ROBERT "TTLEWORTH,TO EDWARD PERCIVAL.

" Thou and my bo'om, hencefoith shall be twun. ' / lentia, Dec, no-.

A 3. WELL MY HEARTYAdieu,ULD one levanted, dead heat, wrong

Sincerely yours, side the Post* off ir* a tangent, sharpedall the ready.

LAURA FITZ-OWEN.Lost all my Spanish, tired as a fox-

hound, cheated by a German Signora,sprained Tartar's fetlock, clearing thechurch door, high mass, dashed fo-,rin hand, slap in the kennel, pavement,,striking fire, knocked down an abbe,all in an uproar.

Went to mumm at old MadamHumdrum's, run my rig upon 'em,spied your cousin, sung 'em a tally-ho,

LETTER N 3 young

138 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BfcRTHA, 139

young one gave in, tipped us a faint,time to be off, gave 'em a somerset,upset old StifFwig, took French leave, LETTER XXVI

Want to be moving, don't like their EDWARD PERCIVAL,ways, aint up to their tricks, can'tabide their l iving, hate boar's heads TO LAURA FITZ-OWEN.and sour crout.

Dover, Sept. 179.,

Great mind to fetch Nannette. I AM an extraordinary example of anEnglishman, after ten months absence

Went to my banker's, pretty wife, from his native country, returning towanted a chaste salute, got affronted,, it with a reluftant heart! But is itlooked like a ninny, soon rallied, boxed strange, that the farther I travel fromold Lightbag, gave me my o\vn, got you, the nearer I approach to misery ?turned out.

It has been remarked, that crossingThat's all, the ocean is> an excellent remedy for a

despairing mind: Ah! Laura, butROBERT LIT'AJLEWORTH, not a mind impressed with your image,

with your virtues !

I do not expea any letters from you.I know the rigid propriety of Madame

LETTER St>

140 SHRINE OF BERTHA, &IIRINE QF BERT||A, m

St. Bruno's sentiments. I know how I am this instant setting outforLon-much she has your interest at heart.— doilj and am anxioua for an interviewYet suffer me to cherish the enchanting with Lord j j tdifield. No power uponidea, that if you were wholly free-if earth &hall akcr niy sentiments.no restraint attended your situation,you would honour me with a line of Laura—my amiable cousin—let megenerous remembrance. once more solemnly avow to you, that

no other woman shall ever share myIndeed I deserve some little kind- affections. I never will marry, unless

ness ; and my opinion of your heart, you w i l l be my wife; and I shall notteaches me to think, that you are not bear existence after that hope forsakesinsensible to the attachment of one, who nie.only estimates his share of happiness inproportion as it meets with your appro- Now, loveliest of women !---only forbation. a short time—adieu.

What can I say ? Only demand a CDWARD PH&CIVAL.proof of my affection, and, howeversevere the injunction, I will hasten toobey you. There is little merit in suchan offer, because, in proving myselfworthy of you, I should gratify everywish of my heart,

1 am LETTER


is only thirty years of age, and the for-mer more than sixty.

LETTER XXVII. vYou will perhaps be astonished at

LAURA FITZ-OWEN, 7 "T"1* PIacidi<* ot ™»<*> and atthe variety of pleasures in which I have

TO SOPHIA CLEVELAND. u01 I1P . „._,. • • , ,Dome a part, since my arrival at Vien-runna, Dee. 179.. Ira. You will think I have forgot Ed

« """ ^d Perchal. Alas! the hour in1 HE dissimulation of Miss Warton is which I forget him, I shall ceasecounteracled by the hourly and encreas- breathe,ing attention of my dear Madame St.Bruno, whose whole study seems to be I make all my confessions to youthat of endeavouring to amuse me. I w i t h as m u c h sincerity, and withpass much of my time wi th Madame de equal confdence in your becresy as ILeitzberg. She lives very splendidly ; ever did to Pert Leonard,and having a just claim to the title ofbel-esprit, her house is frequented by Now attend. I often th ink that theall the literati of this country. mysterious story of Lady Gran more

may interest me very nearly; Do youThe Baroness de Waldberg is as comprehend my meaning ? Thedaugh-

kind to me as ever; but she is not ter is not yet discovered; and Madamequite so pleasant a companion as Ma- St. Bruno's very extraordinary kind-dame de Leitzberg, because the latter ness ; the valuable jewels she has lately

IS presented


presented to me; the care she has from you. Pray let me know if Mr.taken of my education ; the ignorance Fercival is arrived in England, andin which I am kept respecting my fa- whether any discovery is yet made res-mily connexions. The sympathetic peeling Lady Granmore's daughter.—sorrow which pervaded my bosom every My hopes, nay, even my existencetime I visited the Shrine—all conspire wiJI * fear, depend on the eclaircisse-to awaken hopes—perhaps delusive went of this extraordinary affair. Andhopes, that I am nearly related to her. * am firmly of opinion, that the few-

weeks from this time to the period thatOh! my friend, the idea fills my «lllst terminate my anxiety, will ap.

heart with sensations undescribable— Pear much longer than all the years ofwhen 1 refleft that the daughter of ™y former seclusion.Lord Gran more is the destined wife ofEdward Percival, Madame St Bruno has engaged a

very excellent master to teach me theI have received a letter from my German, a Monsieur de **********, a

cousin, enclosed to me by Terese de pleasant, well informed man, who isBouvais. I will keep it as the most acquainted with all the modern lan-precious treasure. I wi l l guard it as a guages.relic. Such a letter, so full of affec-tion—Yes, Sophia—affeclion, I dare rt w a singular circumstance, thattell you without a blush. this gentleman should have been the

tutor of Charlotte, so celebrated in theI will not read it again till I hear interesting, but dangerous story of the

from VOL. jr. o unfortunate

146 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA* 147

unfortunate Werter, who did not, exit; and she is since married to a se-however, destroy himself on her ac- cond !*count entirely, but, in some measure,owing to mortifications which he ex- Miss Warton will shortly quit theperienced from people of higher rank, protection of Madame St. Bruno, andbut inferior minds! His soul was all return to Eng]and j confess l &hallsensibility-he loved Charlotte with en- not be u hen she dthusiasm. She was married to a wor- for there jg mtle ^ ]n ^thy objea ; and Werter was too ho- lati^ M un,rratcful (), ,?a j CQi ]dnourable a charter to interrupt then' not ^ her for her felicity ; but, as the man of feeling ch ghe }^ ônd to ]pe thewould never debase himse f by under- and h r ,minins1 the repose of a beloved obiecr, . ^ , Jmining uie icF j , same society, we have never conversedhe had wholly suppressed the force of ^^his affeaion. Other vexations after-wards awakened the irritability of his 1 mind, and produced the fatal subject morrow.of his melancholy history.

• * • * * * * - * •Nothing could b e more unfortu- * * * * * *

nate than his death,—for the hus-band of the celebrated Charlotte— Tuesdaydied not lOllg after Werter*S rash * This anecdote may be relied on. The gentleman

exit; who related it was the Authoiess's Language-Mattel,during her residence in Geimany, and she gives itfrom his authoiity. O a


T^y M0r»,nS fricndship.-that cheek shall neverI have received another letter from know the blush of ghamCj which hflg

Mr. Percival, dated from Calais. He been bathed with drops so sacred, andis now in England. For heaven's so pure!sake, if you wish me not to lose myreason, write to me, and tell me all l am now mm ^.^ you can learn respiting hut intended My adorab]e Monitress stUI forbids meraarriaSe- to write to Percival.

I feel that my fate depends on the n,^ ™,™ r-i,, j-_ J / , Our poor Claudme grows worse andevent. Be generous, be candid, do worse every day.not deceive me. Suffer my heart toknow the worst, while it has strength \/r,i a. -a i ,.„. . , . , ' 6 Madame St. Bruno has hired a cot-sufhcient to bear it. *O/YO r™. v,0. f n j- ^tage ror her, at a small distance from

# » # # ^ » Vienna, where she has a physician and* * * * * * nurse to attend her. I constantly pass

my mornings in her chamber, andsometimes think, by her manner, that

T u u u *u *u ! »r*J'**tT' she knows a11 thc history of LadyI have shewn both the letters to Ma- ^ ci r ,, y, c, t, c, . , ., Granmore. She often talks of the*dame St. Bruno. She was violently C1 . , . , , c

. , . , , . .. ., c, -1 Shrine, and never without tears. Butagitated at reading them. She em- T , A/r , 0. ,,,6 , . , , , . r n ! love Madame St. Bruno too well to^braced me tenderly ; her tears fell upon «««<•• • • * ^.f j u / 1 r - ^ j mention mv suspicions to Claudine, ormy face; dear holy tears of virtue, and " ^ «ui«c, or

of °3 t0'

2,50 SHHINB OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 15!

to pry into the secrets of her familyconnexions with impertinent curiosity.

Adieu, my dear Sophia. How of. LETTER XXVIII.ten do I wish to see you. The fewweeks I passed in your society, while LAURA FITZ.OWBNtyou were on your short visit at Geneva,attached me to you by bonds of friend- TO SOPHIA CLEVELAND.ship which never can be destroyed,CXCept by death. For till that awful Cotta&e, near Vienna, Dec. r79-.

period I shall remain, ALL our pleasures, my dear Sophia,have been for some days interrupted

Toujourstomeme, by the illness of Claudine; MadameSt. Bruno is very much afflicted at her

JAUF4 FITZ-QWEN , . . , ,danger, and, independent of my ownregard for the good old Nun, the sym-pathy I feel for our beloved abbessprevents my mingling in society.

Miss Warton leaves Vienna nextweek ; she has never forgiven me, be-cause she has been guilty ©f an un-friendly action ; the artifice and mean-ness of her mind I pity, and I pardon ;

LETTER though

B& SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. J53•

though we shall never speak to eachother again.

I write this at the cottage of our LETTER XXIX.poor Claudine, her confessor is nowwith her, and I seize this moment to SOPHIA CLEVELAND,say, I am., faithfully, L o LAURA FITZ-OWEN.

Yours, Dec'I79"MY DEAR LAURA,

LAURA FITZ-OWLN. \ , , ... .,I AM charmed with the account yougive me of Vienna, you will pardonme when I confess how much I wasumused at your adventure with SirRobert Littlevvorth ,; yet do not flatteryourself that you are the only persondestined to enjoy the supreme felicityof his society—He arrived in Englandlast week, and was presented to us atLord Litchfield's: Lady Cavil enrap-tured at the idea of a new acquaint-ance, has invited him to meet theCharleton party, at her house to-mor-row. I only saw him for a moment,

LETTER and

154 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 15$

and am already completely disgusted her dissipation deprived him of whatwith his manner and appearance. he had a right to expect at her death.

I hope and trust that Lord LitchfieldBut Lady Cavil is so passionately will acl with more humanity,

fond of the gaudy parterre of Nobility,that even this miserable wild \\ced is Dearest Laura,more acceptable to her than the fairestflower sprung from a plebeian soil. Your affectionate friend,

I have made every possible enquiry SOPHIA CLEVELAND,respecting the daughter of Lord Gran-more, all I can learn is, that she waseducated in a convent, and is now onher journey to England.

Her relationship to Lord Litchfieldis very distant; the moment she arrivesI wi l l wr i te to you, and let you knowall the particulars: Mr. Percival hasnot been in society since his arrival,on account of his mother's death,though it is well known that she was amost unfeeling parent—her avaricedenied him all the comforts of life, and

her LETTER

U6 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE of BERTHA. U7

I shall send my solicitor in a fewdays to receive from you an accountof my affairs, and to take charge of

I 'PTTTi'T? "YX'YI-..E, A i E*K A.AA.. my remajning property.

THE HON. EDWARD PERCIVAL, I am, Sir,

TO SIMON GALLIARD. v , , ,. ,Your most obedient,Leaden, Dec. 17$-.

_.„ Humble Servant,Uilty

THE melancholy intelligence of my EDWARD PERCIVAL.mother's death was conveyed to meyesterday morning.

I have written to Mr. Courtney con-cerning the mournful ceremonies whichyet remain to be fulfilled; you maydepend on seeing me very shortly, forI shall, in the course of the ensuingmonth, visit Litchfield Abbey, whereI ex peel to find that the most exactattention has been paid to every requestof Mrs. Percival.

Isha11 VOL. n. P LETTER


I believe I mentioned, in my lastletter, that Lord and Lady Moreland,

LETTER XXXI. Miss Winterton, Sir Harvey Went-worth, Sir Francis Colville, and Court.

SOPHIA CLEVELAND, ne7> were to dilic with Lady Cavil, tomeet the accomplished Sir Robert Lit-

TO LAURA FITZ-OWEN. tlworfo.

Grosvenor-Street> Dec. 179-.MY DEAR SOPHIA, Previous to his arrival, Sir Francis

A , , . , . . . , . Colvil'e informed Lady Cavil, that hes I think there is a great pleasure m . . . „ J . '. , t, ° c t. «. was the richest Baronet in the Kine-knowing that others are as unfortunate . ,:. "p, , « . r u«, ^ „:„- aoni, and or the most ancient fanny ;as ourselves, I cannot forbear con vine- ' ^ »

, , c c- r> ^hus having insured a welcome recen-ing you that the rudeness of Sir Ro- ° . "^ '^P6 J , , c j * tion with the fair hostess, he declaredbert Littleworth was not confined to ' cciaicuj xyr- \xr,^«« «„!,, to Mlss wmterton that he was theyou and M.ss Warton only. ^ .^^ dhdj>le rf chesterfield

Do not triumph in the idea of having that ever Srllced the zenith of fas»">»-monopolized all the attentions of thismost distinguished youth ; but hear " l ™ h«PPy to hear it," replied Missme îth patience, and forbear to trem- Winterton, « for the young men of theble when I declare, that no less than Fesent <% doil>t know how to bel^vethe divine Lady Cavil and the im- 'm ""W"* îth *™** <* **"»™»mortal Winterton are your rivals. reputation, and constantly offend chaste

P 2 earsI believe

;

160 SHRIKE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 161

ears with their low indelicate conver- i fy°u Please I'd rather, put up by onenation of your grand-daughters/' then turn-

ing to Lady Moreland îd myself, heLady Moreland suspeaing some continued, " come, come, my pretty

newly meditated plan, to annoy Miss ones, budge, budge, sharp set, comeVVinterton, seriously asked me if 1 all the way from Hounslow—been to aknew the Baronet; I answered; by fight, nicked the deep ones, hedgedhear-say only, and that report did not for five hundred, knew the bye word,exaclly correspond with the cliaracler settled before hand, rode home in fiftyMiss Winterton had received with so minutes, tell you all about it, when-much pleasure. I've picked a morsel."

At eight o'clock Sir Robert Li t t le- At the conclusion of this most inter-worth arrived, though six u as the hour esting intelligence he sat down, butof invitation: After making an a \ \ k ~ being eager to return to his favoriteward apology for coming so late, he toPic' and l believe the only one onwalked once or twice round the table, *h!<-h he could discourse, he scarcely,as if searching for a place. permitted himself time to eat

Miss Winterton simpering and bow Thei * hole P^y were silent *ith

ing, offered him the chair next to her- astonishment, and Lady Lavil appearedself; but, after leaning over her shoul- particularly mortified at the idea ofder, and staring her out of counte- bemS nvalled m lûacity.nance, he answered, " No, no, Ma'am ;

if . r 3 Having.


Having literally talked himself Lucretia only answered him by ahoarse, he whispered Lady Moreland, sneer of contempt." Pray, Ma'am, what is your grand-mamma's name?" Undaunted by the cold reception he

received from Miss Winterton, he ad-tc I really don't comprehend who dressed Lady Cavil, saying,

you mean, Sir," said she." Come, my neat Dowager, will you

<f No! why that elderly gentle- drink with me?"woman, over the way, to be sure,"answered he. This appellation was not exactly cal-

culated to insure a more favorable re-" That Lady's name, Sir," returned ply : 1 observed the gravity of the corn-

Lady Morelandj " is Miss Winter ton, P-'Miy increase in proportion as theKit she is no grandmother of mine.'' Bayonet manifested his talent for plea-

santry.fl Miss What ?" said he in a half

whisper, " Miss Winter-green, oh ! I'm Lady Moreland seemed, by a signi-up to it;" then 'aking a glass of claret, iicant smile, to coincide \ \ i th me incontinued in the most deafening tone opinion.of voice, " Miss Winter-green allowme to wish you a speedy renovation " What are you snikering at, myof sprint" little rantipole wags?" enquired Sir

Robert,Lucretia

164 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE Q? BERTHA. 16 J

Robert, addressing Lady Moreland mendous flashes of her grey green eyes,and myselr. presented the most alarming appear-

ance.Miss Winterton now began to lose

her temper, and turning fiercely to The undaimted Baronet proceeded :Lord Moreland, after bestowing aglance of the most ineffable contempt „ Come> come> don,t blush my prctty

on Sir Robert Littleworth, « 1 \\ondsr, j i t t le Winter Cherry, you'll see manymy Lord,'' said our sententious spin- a hard frost yetj thoughj if \ may judge

ster, " to see you suffer that hottentot by the coiour of vour^cheeks, you seemto degrade your Lady by such oppro- to be in fyl l bloom now/,brious epithets."

TT . ^T. . •, o- n i Then turning to Lady Cavil, he" Harkee, Missey," cried Sir Robert, .. .. , . J' , . 3 continued:" don t you be scandalous—mind > o u rhits—get yourself affronted, no busi- _ T T , ... , ,. r ,,fe J , , , ' " When did you hear from Spousy ?ness here, ought to be leading apes, „ . , , . ,. , .,, , , ,,. , . , 1 Coming home soon? a m t killed, h e y ?lived too long in a wood to be scared , . , , ,fe no such good luck? no mummingby an. owl, anit such a mzy. , u ?T -i i i » •>•i * J Vv hen old Hannibal comes back.

At the conclusion of this oration, T . . i , . , ,,I was astonished to observe the pa-Miss Winterton s rage became unso- ,. ... , . , T , ,-, ., , ,b 5 tience with which Lady Cavil enduredvernablc, her cheeks glowed with a Ws im tinent animadversions. butcrimson hue, which, added to the trc. thefe be{ ^Q c^ fcc insolently

meiulmis oppressive

166 SHRINE OP BERTHA. SffRIN£ op ^ ^

oppressive to those whom they believe Lord Morelandj who had a]J the

to be unacquainted with their follies, polished manners of the meille cour, andand as readily can degrade themselves who was who,ly unacquainted with the

to the lowest servility, where they find n]odern system of education, turningan antagonist who has spirit to deteft round contemptuously answered-their absurdities.

" Young man, let me advise you toLord Moreland, disgusted with the check the ribaldry of your licentious

ignorance and familiarity of Sir Robert tongue, or you will very shortly beLittleworth, proposed a party at chess, driven out of society," then bowing towi th Sir Hervey Wentworth, which Lady Cavil, left the saloon,the venerable Baronet gladly accepted.

Sir Robert seemed extremely mor-They rose to quit the room, Sir Ro-- tified at the just but unexpecled retort,

bert, after following them to the door, and remained silent for a considerable "o.i tip-toe, holding out the skirts of tiine ; at length recovering his nativehis coat, and imitating the l imping effrontery, he exclaimed, with a dis-gait of age, exclaimed, with a loud torted grin---laugh—

Queer old fish—don't want his ad-" Egad, a rum old brace, a couple vice, got six thousand a year—alwaysba

of choice bucks, look well in harness, welcome, buy him out and out---stocklike to drive 'era in a curricle." of fleecy hosiery into the bargain."

»Lord Miss

168 SHIUNE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA, 169

Miss Winterton rejoicing in the hit- ringing the bell, and ordering hermiMation of ber antagonist, could not chair. " Are you going?" said Ladyconceal her triumph. Cavil. << Going," repeated Miss Win-

terton, " Yes, Madam ; a bear garden" I think/* said she, *' my Lord js, in my opinion, a more respectable

Moreland's reproof merits the highest place than this house, when you admitcommendation ; I a*i always delighted such visitors; however, I shall neverwhen I see these impertinent striplings trouble it again." Then Mr rapping thereminded of their own insignificance." shawl of dingy notoriety round her

most cadaverous form, she quitted the« Hollo, my old hard winter," in- room, without deigning to answer

terrupted* the elegant Sir Robert, Lady Cavil's repeated invitations to« What's your gab wagging about? remain.Who bid you put in your oar ?—Mindyour goes—soon make you sing small, Lady Moreland commiserating themy old queer one." sufferings of our hostess, who had la-

boured under the agony of constrainedThen turning to Lady CavH, he con- silence for more than two hours, pro-

tinued, " Well, my doily, seem quite posed adjourning to the Opera; Col*dumb founded, clock down——'' ville and Courtney joyfully seconding

the idea, Sir Robert began to discoverMiss Winterton now losing all pa- hjs unpopularity, and after assuring

tience, interrupted his hurangue by us that he intended to repeat his visitsringing VOL. n. Q very

170 SHRINE OF EERTHA. ** SHRINE OP BERTHA. 171

very often, took his leave, to the ex- I cann'ot account for the fixed aver-treme delight of every one present. sion Lady Cavil has taken to Courtney,

since the unfortunate adventure of theThus ended the debut of this travel. ghost> she has never heard his name

led hero, I wish I could add, to the mentioned without evincing the mostsatisfa&ion of all parties. sovereign contempt, and sometimes

violence: ButLady Cavil was mortified, Miss Win-

tertoil enraged, and Lady Moreland, « Heav'n has no rage, like love to hatred turnM,Colville, Courtney, and myself, won- " Nor hdl a fury> l lke a womaa «»ra'd."derfuliy amused. ghe ^ of thogc .^.^ .

, T „. ,. who never fprffive an instance of in-Kow, my dear Laura, suffer me for ..„ . \° . , .,, ... difference in the volatile sex, and theone moment to be an egotist, ee c , . , .0 " Pang of despised love," seems toprey upon her mind to this hour.Courtney provokes me beyond my

patience; the nearer I approach to- The si jkrit of Lad Cav|],swards independence, the more reserved manner fix her ^ eternal Hdi_he is in his behaviour; in a fortnight CU,C) th(>se who are ainted withmy term of bondage expires, believe hei% behoM her exccntridties with

me 1 shall emancipate from the tyranny commiseration, and those who are ig-of Lady Cavil with more joy than norant of her ruling passion for noto.ever a prisoner escaped from the shac- riety> imagine her to be only one de.kles ot the Bastile. gree removed from insanity.

1 cannot Q 2 Adieu,

172 SHRINE OJF BERTEyL SHRINE OF BERTHA. 17$

Adieu., pray answer this sjiort lettervery scop.

And believe me, LETTER XXXIL

Affectionately ypurs, EDWARD PERCIVAL,SOPHIA CLEVELAND. T° LAURA FITZ-OWEN,

Lyndon, Dec. 179-,

JVlRs Percival is no more—thoughshe never evinced the affeclion of aparent towards me, I cannot but lamenther loss—as a son ; nature frequentlypleads more powerfully, even than?reason itself,

I find that her expensive mode ofliving has wholly dissipated all theready money left in her care; and theestate, which was also entirely in her.power, during her life, she has so-heavily encumbered with mortgages,,that I fear I never shall be in full pos-session of a clear rental. Lord Litch-

LETTER &3 fiddi

f

174 SHRINE OF BERTHA. &HR1NK;OF BERTHA. 17f

field has promised to inspea the state It mortified me exceedingly to findof my affairs, and, out of four thousand that Sir Robert Littleworth had visiteda year, to allow me twelve hundred, Vienna^-a calm observer would almostfor a specified length of time, the imagine/* that some malignant starremainder to accumulate for the re- directed pur exalted idiots, to- displaydemption of incumbrances. their absurdities in all quarters of the

globe, in order to sully that fameThus, my dearest Laura, I candidly which has established our superiority

unfold the state of my finances, all I over all other nations. I trust, howe-possess is yours ; I cannot exist unless ver, that he did not much annoy you :you will participate my little fortune ;. with an estate of six thousand a year,time may enable me to offer you one he contrives to be the most unpopularmore worthy of your acceptance; and dicontented of mortals, perpetu-tho-ugh never equal to your merit. ally roving from place to place, without

finding a moment's satisfaction in any.I shall now endeavour to bring Lord

Litchfield to some conclusion respecl- I am impatient to see Lord Litch-ing the alliance he has chosen for me,, fiei^ to know the very WOrst, and to ,but which I shall most assuredly rejeft tell him my irrevocable determination :with firmness: I am not inclined to- Ah! dearest Laura, ! have then butgratify the avarice of relations, by the ©nc step to take—to implore yourentire sacrifice of every earthly hap- commisseration., and to hope, thatpi ness. F have ever, rastin<5tively, re- you will receive a wretched wanderer,,sisted the tyranny of compulsion, solace his affliftions, and, by accepting

Ifc -his

37$ SHttME OP BERTHAf. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 177

•his hand, become the partner of hi&fate.

LETTER XXXIII,Farewell, my beloved friend, my

amiable cousin, I never can change my ÂURA FITZ-OWEN,sentiments till I resign my existence. T0 sopmA CLEVELANr>.

EDWARD PERC1VAL. Vienna, Jan. 179-.

"Vv E are all in the deepest affliction.—Poor Claudine is dead.

f'

These three days past Madame St.Bruno and myself, have never left her.Miss Warton did not like to relinquishthe pleasures of Vienna for so mourn-ful a seclusion.

The amiable old Nun, last night, ashort time previous to her decease,sent for a confessor, and, in the pre-sence of Madame St. Bruno, beggedleave to make her last solemn declara-tion, upon a subject that interests memore than I can express*

LETTER Madame

175 SriRlNE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA' ^

Madame St. Bruno, whose unaffected w*th her hands clasped, and her coun-piety and benevolence exceed all the tenance expressive of the most earnestpowers of description, requested me impatience,to accompany her to the apartment ofthe venerable woman. We joined her, " J°u ^°w she <hed,' continuedfor some time, in fervent devotions. Paudme <• m the bloom of youth and

beauty: the occasion of her death was"« Claudine, my good sister," said

Madame St. Bruno, - what can afflift " Poison' said our dear Abbess> «a mind like yours, which, during a a'a fff»ny of affliftton ;--<< Why tell melong life of seventy years, has uniformly of |fc ? * jt a the time > âsh

. , ., . e «. xnf« tho action has since that period been aevinced the most perfect sanctity—the e .most unexampled purity! " Alas," constant BOurce of m.sery to me; andreplied the almost exhausted sister, ' ^P"" of ever obtammg the« my mind is innocent of any crime forgiven* of heaven."that could disturb my soul's repose ; ,. _ . ,but there is a load that hangs heavily " Heaven was not offtnded," saidabout my heart; I could not leave this Ciaud.ne; " she was not guilty of the

• p ri rn*1

world, and suffer you to remain m waiire.ignorance. The Lady Bertha."

I ran to Madame St. Bruno, who« What of her, Claudine?" said sunk upon the floor: in a few minutes

Madame St. Bruno, eagerly-throwing she seem*d to ««ovcr.herself upon her knees by the bedside,

with "Go

1*6 SmlNE ©F iERTri^. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 181

«' G<? ©h," *aM &tie, in a tremuldas Madame St. Bruno raised her eyesvoice " Aftgefe seeded to whisper to to heaven. For some time she conti-niy ears the blissful tidings." nued speechless. At length, with a

look of resignation mixed with sorrow,«• SH* perished" by the hands of Ur- &he exclaimed, « I thank thee, Omni-

stitim dt Previlk, our holy sistei*, who Potcnt! for this act of benignity • fordierf about four years aftei* the Lady thii> balsam to my wounded heart.Bertha *' Claudine proceeded,

Madtfmc St. Bruno was pale with ' " The dread of punishment res-horror. Claudine proceeded: trained our ill-fated sister from reveal-

ing the dreadful secret. She told me,«* The Lady Bertha you know, was vvhen dying, that it had broken her

dangerously ill; her health, as you must heart. She confessed all the circum-remember, houily decayed, after she stances to Perc Leonard and myself,came to the con vent of the Grey sisters; solemnly enjoining us never to dis-and hef liie was despaired of. Her phy- cover it; but the peace of my poor soulsician had ordered her several drugs; will not be complete if I quit thib \\orld,amongst others, a phial of opium, to be and leave you in sorrow.administered in small quantities. Ursu-line was her night-watch, and, by mis- Madame St. Bruno rose, embracedtake, gave her the fatal draught. The the dying sister, and left the room. ILady Bertha fell into a profound sleep, lemained wi th Claudine, who a fewfrom which she never awoke again." minutes after expired.

Madame VCI" "• R J flcw

3S2 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA, 183

I flew to my dear Abbess; I found in the convent, of which Madame St.>her at prayers in an adjoining cham- Bruno is appointed the superior,ber,—she wept a torrent of tears.

Miss Warton leaves Vienna in a dayMy heart was full of sorrow for poor or two. The gentleman who placed

Claudine's departure; but the bliss her in our convent, when an infant,of knowing that Lady Granmore was arrived this morning, and she accom-innocent of self-slaughter, overpow- panics him to England immediately,ered my grief, and soothed it into re- She has never shed a tear to thesignation. memory of Claudine, or offered the

smallest consolation to our belovedMadame St. Bruno embraced me Abbess. She expresses a rooted ab-

tenderly. "Oh! my Laura, my dear horrence of my name, and has notchild," said she, " your shrine is yet even taken leave of me! Can the con-holy. The instinclive spirit that fills soling spirit of celestial friendship, sothe breast of innocence, like yours, soon evaporate?prompted it to all the sympathy it dis-covered for my loved sister."—She Madame St. Bruno sees no personcould articulate no more, we mingled whatever for ten days to come. Sheour tears, and, in all the luxury of sor- confines herself to her cell, to prayrow, returned to Vienna, without ut- for the soul of Claudine, I, even I,tering a syllable. am not permitted to interrupt her

devotions.Poor Claudine will be laid this night

in R 2 Adieu,

, „ SHRINE OF BERTHA. 185184 SHRINE OP BERTHA.

Adieu, I am too much distressed t«*say more than that I remain sincerelyand affectionately BETTER XXXIV..

Yours» EDWARD PERCIVAL,

LAURA F1TZ-OWEN* TO LAURA FITZ-OWEN.

London, Jan. 179-:.

Sunday Morning.

JYlY hand trembler, delarest Laura,,while I write, that the most interest-ing hour of my life, now approaches.

Lord Litchfield has appointed this"day for the developement of my des-tiny, I know not why I should dread ,the event, I am decided in my own .mind, and ought not to feel an unquietmoment.

Yet, oh ! most adored of Beings,my heart, which knows no other sove-reign, scarcely dares hope that you

LETTER Rs willi

186 SHRINE OF BERTHA* SHRINE OF BERTHA. 187

will accept its devotions. Indeed, I Pray write to me. I am overwhelm-will deserves your esteem ; I will, by ed with despair, I cannot long supporta life of perfect affection, convince you,. this state of misery ; Laura, I conjurethat my sincerity is as exemplary, as you to write to me, only one line, onemy passion is ardent. Neither time little word, to save me from distrac-or change of fortune can alter the one, tion ; say but Hope, and I will be sa-or in the. smallest degree diminish the tisfied.other.

I have seen your lovely friend, So^-If I find my uncle resolved to de- phia Cleveland. We have talked of

stroy my happiness, I will leave this your perfections whole hours together -fkingdom for the remainder of his life ; and, do not be offended, she has givenI will fly ta thee, dearest of women, me some reason to think, you do notand will never quit thy presence, till entirely hate me.my fate is decided

Lady Moreland, who is extremelyExplain my sentiments to Madame amiable, and who has heard me expa-

St. Bruno; tell her, I have written to tiate on your worth, for indeed it isyou ; shew her all my letters; she has the constant theme of all my discourse,feeling; she is not barbarous; she will sets out for Germany in a few days,perhaps commiserate my situation, She has an heart formed for sympathy,and suffer you to afford m.e some con- she will tell you how much I am de-sofetion. voted to you.

Pray The

If* SHRINE OP BERTHA, SHRINE OF E£RTHA> 18§

The awful hour draws near. Laura,,only object of my soul's fervent adora-tl£m* LETTER XXXV.

Adieti!THE SAME TO THE SAME.

ED-WARD PERCJVAL, London, Jan. 179-

Jrlow shall I describe my situation,\\ here shall I find language to conveythe intelligence, which my full' heartthrobs to communicate, at the samemoment that it shudders to remember ?Oh! Laura, you shall be mine, Fateshall not part us. The vital flamewhich animates my being, shall ratherbe extinguished. I will not keep youin suspence, though my agitation willscarcely let me proceed: If you believeme either honourable or faithful,, bepatient, be confident.

I met Lord Litchfield according to-appointment. Heaven knows howmuch ! dreaded to meet him. The

LETTER approach

190 SHRINE OF BERTHA, SHH1NE OF BERTHA. 191

approach of certain death would have Lt)rd Litchfield continued,appeared less terrible. I found him inhis library, writing; his table was « The lady, whom I wish you tostrewed with papers and deeds of vari- «spouse, is the daughter of Lordous descriptions. I looked upon them Granmore ; she is extremely rich, andas the mandates of my destruclion, for highly accomplished ; quite handsomeevery parchment bore the name of enough, and too amiable to be refused.Granmore.

*' Very possibly, my Lord," an.He rose with formal solemnity to swered I; " her wealth will bring lit-

meet me: There was a chilling cold- tie attraction in my opinion, and, un-ness in his mien and manner. til I have seen her, I cannot judge of

her mental or personal perfections."" Mr. Percival," said he, in the

most awful, yet peremptory tone, "I "Of the former," replied Lordtrust you are prepared for the alliance, Litchfield, " there is no doubt; forI am about to propose; you know that the latter, you will, I trust, take myI have your interest at heart/' word. In short, I am decided, you

must wed the lady I have chosen, or« I am prepared to hear you, my you will know me no longer as your

Lord," answered I, " but my acqui. friend,escence will depend on the merit ofthe objecV* To lose your friendship, my Lord,"

said I, " would be to me a very severeLord calamity;

®2 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 193

calamity; but would you wish the man my hand. I cannot love her, thenyou esteem to degrade himself by bar- why should I, like a sordid villain, robtering his affections, for the paltry her of the means of forming a moreclaims of wealth ? Is not the mind, fortunate alliance ? If she is liberal,the first of all treasures, in matrimo- if she has feeling, she will shrink fromnial alliances?" such an union. Inform me where she

dwells, I will hasten to her—I will at" Very fine, very romantic," repli- least be honest."

ed Lord Litchfield, " but extremelyabsurd. Give me leave to tell you, Lord Litchfield sternly replied,Mr. Percival, that 1 am not inclined to « you OUght to have,known the worldtrifle, you are very young, Sir, and well enough to feel, that marriages areincapable of judging. I have chosen only made for convenience; Love isa wife suitable to your rank, and ere- the companion of fools, and the asso-ditable to your family. If you cannot ciatc of poverty. People of rank lookmake up your mind to accept my pro- beyond such childish considerations,posal, I must teach mine to forget that -ind seek for splendid alliances, for ex-I have a nephew/' tensive connexions, and the solid ad-

vantages of wealth. You are not"Yethearme, nryLord," said I, in obliged to love the woman you

an agony of despair ; Set me only see espouse; you are not forced to confinethe lady you have selected; let me tell yourself to her society. Marriage is aher that my heart is engaged to another; mere form amongst the higher classesshe will not, upon such terms, accept VOL. n. S of

my


of men; traffic, only traffic, a lottery " reason, honour, nature, and huma-of blanjks and prizes." ni-ty, shrink from it, I will rather

perish tjian destroy her happiness."ee And therefore most precarious,"

said I, impatiently. " My Lord, I I was preparing to depart; he rosecannot bear this system of degrading in great agitation, and after a mo-policy. I will neither sell my honour, ment's struggle between pride andor my feelings. This is oppression, I avarice——cannot tamely yield to bear it. If, forthe last time, I am to bid you farewell, " Yet, stay Mr. Percival," said he ;remember, my Lord, I am no villain, If be calm, and dispassionate; see themy mind is uncontaminated, and such woman I have chosen for you, she willas will not disgrace the title which I very shortly be in England."must inherit. My poverty will be mypride, when I refleft, that it is the « In England! Is she on the Con-offspring of my reclitude." tinent ?" said I.

" Tis very well, Sir," said Lord " She was," replied Lord Litchfield.Litchfield; " then you reject my pro- << I am her guardian ; she lost her pa-pdsal. You refuse ' the hand of the rents when an infant, and has by theirlady Pjnrbpose?" desire been educated in a convent.

She is unconscious of her rank and for-" I do, my Lord," said I, firmly; tune; for particular reasons she does

" reason, S 2 not

196 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE °F BERTHA« 187

not even bear the name of her fa-. " Oh ! mv more than father> l have

•j „ seen her, I adore her,, I obey you, sheshall be mine! Suffer me to leave

I trembled with all the mingling >'ou> ] am overpowered, I cannot sup-sensations of fear and hope ; he per- Port my Jov> to ™>rrow l wil1 be w^ceived my perturbation, and softening you early, to settle all preliminaries.•'his tone continued—— ? lett ê r°T°ni> ™d*™ to m^lodg-

mgs, where I write this letter, in the^ . „, , . . full rapture of my heart!" Do not suffer your apprehensions to r J

overwhelm your reason ; she is a love- „ Laura^ ^{^Q Lau^ thoa ly girl; you have seen her; you have then the daughter of Lord Qranmoreynot long since beheld her.' and^ {n fl few thou be the

. _ wife of Percival."" Where, my Lord/* answered I.

" Oh! tell me quickly, I am all impa- j have to]d the joyfui tidings to yourtience." gentle friend Sophia. She has assured

me that you will be mine." At Lausanne," replied Lord Litch-

êjid " Tell me, oh ! tell me, Laura, thatshe has not deceived me.

I could not utter my sensations; I . 'embraced him. At length recovering Every bless,ng attend you. _in a small degree, I had j»t power to EEWABD me]TAfcsay ,vith a faultering vo.ce—— ^ Ss ^^

198 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 19fr

I this morning gave her hand toCourtney. She looked as lovely as an

LETTER XXXVf, angel; I did not envy my friend his,happiness, when I recollected how

THE SAME TO THE SAME. soon I should be the most blest ofMon^, mortals.

IN one short hour, dearest Laura, Ishall seal my solemn pledge of love to l almost spair of this letter's meet-thee for ever. iaf y°u at Vienna, for I trust that by

this time you are on the borders of the-" My bosom's lord sits lightly on its throne.0 Continent, journeying towards my pro-

mised world of happiness.Ages of sorrow are over paid by this

rapturous moment. Oh ! \vhere shall- I shall desire Lord Litchfield's con-I find words to tell thee what 1 feel ? sent to meet you, and conduct you toThou canst not refuse the offering of yOur home,my heart; dearest Laura, I have al-ready received an earnest of thy gene- Laura, am I not arrogant and confUrous affection, from the confession of dent ? But this is no time for childishSophia. The impression her intelli- reserve. I have no. doubt of your re-gence has made, inspires me with the gard. Mrs. Courtuey has given metenderest gratitude, and she will the blissful assurance: and she cannothenceforth be as dear to me as a sister. dissemble. Adieu ; I, am going im-

mediately to my uncle. I write this at3 th*s Courtneys.

200 SHRINE 0» BERTHA. SHRfNE op BERTHA< f Q1

Courtncy's. Such a scene of delight! The whole party will set out t(>

He is the happiest of men; but he morrow for the Priory, where Sirmust soon yield that title to Edward Hervey \\ entworth insists upon theirt> * irercivai. remaining brtnight, in order to ce-

* lebrate the marriage. Lord and LadyThe crazy Cavil is talking louder -., , , , , ,t . ,J ,...• & Moreland only stay there two days, on

than ever ; M.ss Winterton is not accounfc of theh, immediate departurequite so gay ; and, in my humble opl- for the Continentnion, discovering strong symptoms oreilv^ Oli! my adored Laura, hasten ta

Colville is whispering soft nonsense meet me; hasten to th^ own'to the lovely Lady Moreland—Court-ney chattering with his wife faster EDWARD PERCIVAI,.,than fifty magpies—Lady Cavil cajol-ing the well-bred Sir Hervey out ofanother summer invitation—and MissWinterton sitting alone by the fireside, looking

" Woeful wan, like one forlorn!"

Grumbling most miserably, and de-claring that (I she thinks herself veryungenteelly treated."

The LETTER

20g SHRINE OF BERTHA. * SHRINE OF BERTHA. 203

ed me; for to her loquacity I am in-debted for the termination of Court-

LETTER XXXVII. ney's timid addresses.

MRS. COURTNEY, The other evening at her house,TO LAURA FITZ-OWEN, *hile 1 was sittin« Pensively silent,

and Courtney musing at a most res-Jan. 179-. peelful distance, on a sudden she ex-

1 HIS morning, my dearest Laura, I claimed__ *have obeyed your injunctions, andgiven my hand to my beloved Court- „ Well, Sophia, when do you intendney, with all the awful ceremonies of to marry this poor ]ittie woeful-lookingour church ; being in full possession parson ? For my part, I am quite tiredof my fortune, my happiness is com- of hjs sighing and ogling. What sayplete ; not that I believe my generous you} Courtney?''Edward wanted the addition of twentythousand pounds, to attach him to me ; « I dare not say any thing," repliedon the contrary, I was apprehensive Henry, looking at me with the mostthat rny wealth would diminish hisaf- earnest solicitude,feclion ; for since I came of age, hehas never mentioned his expectations. I remained silent.

I forgive Lady Cavil for all the ennui « \ never saw such fools in all myher ridiculous behaviour has occasion- life/' rejoined Lady Cavil—" fix the

ed day,

£04 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 20J

day, Henry, I'll answer for Sophia have assured him of your affection.---Cleveland—she will not be angry, I You are worthy of each other, and Iassure you, many a match is prevented knew you would never have had cou-by the ridiculous timidity of both par- rage to confess it.lies; 'tis all your own fault, Courtney."

Adieu, adieu, dearest Laura.At these words Henry flew to me.

I was not able to speak, my eyes were Yours, as ever,bent on the ground, and my cheek

. , ° . . SOPHIA COURTKEV,burning with blushes.

<e Is it my fault, Sophia ?" said Court-ney, in the tenderest tone.

I could only answer, « Indeed,Courtney, it is not mine."

He clasped me to his heart. His joywas unbounded.

Percival is wild, literally franticwith transport. You are by this timeacquainted with the cause of his de-light. Tray don't be angry, but I

haveVOL. ii. T LETTER

206 SHRINE OF ECRTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 207

\\ith unusual smiles of pleasure andLETTER XXXVIII regard. (< No\\, my dear Edward,1 '

said he, " restrain your rapture, andEDWARD PERCIVAL, ™ * few minutes l Vvi11 Prci*nt ?OU to

your charming bride. She arrivedTO LAURA FirZ-OWEN. , , ir ,only half an hour since.

London, Jan. 179-.

LAURA, I fear we shall meet no more " Arrived ! is she arrived ?" cried I.'on this side the grave. My misery is f< Oh! let me fly to her."complete, and death alone can tenni.nate my anguish. " Hold, hold, not so hasty, I wi l l

prepare her for your visit ; she is timid,My carriage is now wa i t i ng ; I fly and those wild trasn ports w i l l alarm

to breathe before you the last sigh of her. Kcst here a moment, and 1 wil lagonizing sorrow. conduf tyou to her."

Now hear my story, and then judge , He left nic in the libraiT> and in aif there is a * retch so cursed a< Ed- few minutes returned.ward Percival. XT T, . . ," Now, Edward, ' said he, " per-

mit me to introduce you."1 informed you in my last hasty let-

ter, that the hour to settle prelimi- I followed him to the drawing-room,naries for our marriage, was appointed. My heart beat high wkh jQy an<J expec_I went to Lord Litchfield; he met me T 2 tation

with

208 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE op BERTHA. 209

tation. I seemed to tread on air : my will suffer hdrs worst tormentSj ratheragitation, my joy almost overwhelmed than marry her . let her be;itow herme* wealth on some more sordid objecl. I

only wish to quit this scene of dccep*On our entering the apartment, I t;on for ever »

"beheld BelindaWarton!He took me by the arm, and pressed

- Mr. Percival," said Lord Litch- m£ to retum drawi om.•field, " I beg leave to present you tothe hciiess of the late Lord Granmore, „ ComCj com^ Edward/, said ^my lovely niece that will be shortly." t, j wigh you to be wige Be not fche

enemy of your own felicity."ce Never, never, my Lord," said I.1 shrunk with horror; my blood froze , tore mysdf fr(jm him^ hastened

in every vein, 1 reeled towards the downstairs, and instantly quitted thatdoor, my head grew giddy, and I leant detested mansion, into which I neveralmost senseless against a pillar. will return Qhj Laura, j am ncarly

distracled!Lord Litchfieldfollowed me. " Boy,"

said he, « are you frantic ? Consider , shall bab, be w-th Ioefore

what you are doing; Lady Belinda is this letter can reach Vienna. If youastonished at your condua. • refuse to sce l haye but Qne gtep

, T T more——to eternity!" Name her not," answered I; " I

WUI T 3 ^ I fly

210 SHRINE OF BERTHA-, SHRINE OF BERTHA. 2tl

I fly to you, prepare to solace me, orto see me perish. Tell me not of pati-ence ; I have long been patient, but LETTER XXXIX.my cheated senses break their icy fet-ters ; Madness will scatter them to all SOPHIA COURTNEY,the blasts of heaven.

TO LAURA FITZ-OWEN.

Laura, will you weep for me, whenlam no more? Will you remember Dw*r, Sept.*79.my unalterable passion ? Will you MY DEAR LAURA,bathe, with tears, the sod where I shall ] JY heart throbg with irfl for

sleep for ever? Indeed, I am almost your situation. Collecl all your forti-deprived of reason; yet the last irn- . , , . , ,,r . , tude, and prepare to console the un-pression my memory shall receive, h Perdval Re Jg nQw Qn hfsshall be that of your image. journey to Viei}na> We haye jmt wit-

nessed a scene which no language canAdieu, adieu, describe. He left our party hi the

most delightful spirits ; joy sat exult-EDWARD PERCIVAL, }ng jn hig animated eyeS) and seemed

to diffuse new grace over his counte-nance/

An hour had scarcely passed, whena servant abruptly entered the room,

LETTER and

212 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE °P BERTHA. 213

and whispered to Courtney. « For " ! am settinS oufc thls instant forGod's sake, sir," said he, « come down Vienna," said he. « I shall make shortstairs immediately, for I believe Mr. business of it. If Laura refuses me, IPercival is dying." wil1 not survive it"

Courtney flew to the saloon, and I Oh! m? friend' do not hun? him

followed him with Sir Francis Col. to madness.ville.

He instantly wrote you a letter,Lady Cavil and Miss Winterton re- which ^ wil1 receive with this>

mained unmoved! wherein he e*PIai»ed the tol inter.view, which has almost driven him to

We found poor Percival the picture despair,of despair. He was pale as death, trem-bling and agitated. ' Lord LteMdel came while he was

writing. We thought it prudent not« Courtney, said he, •< I am lost for to Iet them meet '• for> l assure Vou»

ever. This fatal blow must end my Percival is desperate.being."

Lady Moreland leaves England to-»,T . . , , , ,, morrow. She is acquainted with theWe were astonished, and unable to , , ,,,. , ... . ., c *u- * j- u . whole affair, and will explain everyaccount for this extraordinary chancre! . _ ,, .r . ,TT .1 j ., , ,, , T , circumstance more fully than I can byHe then described the scene which J J

Jiad passed at Lord Litchfield's. r<

" l a m I conjure

214 SHRINE OF BERTHA. ^ op ^ ^

I conjure you to receive your dearcousin with kindness and humanity.—Do not trifle with an existence so pre- t _ _ v~. , , . i LETTER XL.cious ; a mind so warm and animated,labouring under such severe afflictions,may be driven to frenzy ; one rash mo- LAURA FITZ-OWEN,ment would imbitter all-your days.— TO sopmA COURTNEY<He deserves your affection—he is themost excellent and worthy of men, Vienna,Feb. 179..and, I fear, would not survive a deci- MADAME St. Bruno's seclusion, sincesive refusal. the ^^ Of ciaudine, prevented my

making her acquainted with my cou-I am so sincerely afflifted, that I can sin's two joyfui letters. That which

scarcely hold my pen. Farewell, my j have just received, must alone bedearest friend: I shall be wretched remembered.till I hear from you.

Alas; my friend, it deadens allSOPHIA COURTNEY. my fond expectations of delight; but,

'tis the last shade of misery ; I gazeupon it with a calm and stedfast eye,and consider it as a dark precipice,terminating a bright and luxuriousprospect.

L2 LETTER TIn

§l£ SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 217

In eight days I shall be shut up, for His days shall be tranquil, and un-ever, from a world of sorrow and du- clouded with remorse, his family, andplicity, I am preparing to take the the world, demand him. In a fewveil, and to devote the remainder of days I shall resign him for ever,my life to piety and resignation. Youwill, perhaps, condemn my resolution; I \vill not bury such a gem in darkyou will call it barbarous ; refleft one oblivion • I will not cloud his days withmoment, I conjure you, and confess repentant sorrow,its propriety.

I have informed Madame St. BrunoI am an orphan, friendless, unknown, of my intention ; she is the most un-

and poor. I have never tasted the prejudiced and enlightened of her sex •pleasures of the world, therefore shall she heard me with composure ; shenot lament their loss. Mr. Percival is begged ne to reflect. I have followednobly born, he is yet unacquainted her counsel; I have reflected, and mywith his own heart, his connexions are resolution is irrevocable,numerous; shall I call down the cursesof his relations, and be treated with I shall not see Mr. Percival. I shalldisdain, as a wretched intruder ? Shall before his arrival, become a memberI plunge him into r u i n ? I, who love of that holy community, whose hopeshini most, be his destroyer! Sophia, are beyond the follies of this world,it must not, it shall not be. I shall be composed, and, I trust

happy.His

VOL. 11. U Far

£18 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE op BERTJIAi ^

Far removed from all the splendours The vain, the busy world i scorn ;and luxuries of life, I have no Wish I seek no gaudy scenes of guile,for either. I Only hope for peace; Where foUhood com ts with murd'ro«ss.nile,

, . - i i . i And pleasure mocks the wretch forlorn:and if sbe will not deign to inhabit the To imiiiumin d caves rn fly,abode of virtue and humility, where or climb the mountain's crest}can I expea to find her ? A*? h.id f™ ev ™™m ^>

f Ste.il softly to thy halcyon bre.i - t ;Where soothing visions round my form shall move,

O Peace ! thou nymph of modest mien ' And one brig tranquil dieam my weary senses prove !Wheie, where, dost thou delight to b t i ay ?Dost thou o'er mountains bend thy way, A,rcady from my throhb; hea

When ev'n,ng spreads its shute serene ? Tbe fc. ^ of ^ .O, dost tho, fly fiom torching l.ght, Hope .^ jn m ^

To seek the tutted va.c ; Alld rejsoft bhmts afflicbon-s dart ,Or midst the solemn noon or night, .. . . . ,;, . , , About my waist no myrtle weaves;List t o t h e love-lorn minstrel s tale ? M I ,., No rose adorns my hrow ;Or in the Hermit s solitary cell, ,, ... y, '„ . . < . , ) • ! , , -, i i i , N o r y£t t h e P°Ppys numbing leaves:In simple vestment cud, with holy silence dwell ? N , , ., b 'f ' J Nor jet tlie iaur t ls pompous bough;

Then Peace ! thy healing olive let me own,Fair, first-born, placid child of Jove ! And let me steal thro' life—unenvied and unknown.

An humble suppli mt dugn to hear ;If fiom tlw starry-sping'ied jphere, A ,. , .

Thou stooo'st o'er moital »ccn« to rove; . AdlCU ! "V ^rest Sophia ! I rCJOICCif eves u> the lonely s'ied in your felicity, long years of bliss

Of agony and gutf, attend you.Thy slo,, and tiniiJ footsteps tread,

To biir.g the balm ot sure relief;Oh 1 quickly come, and through each ac'ilnj vein *n five days I shall be tWCnty-OllCThy sainted baloam pour, to lull my fev'nsh brain. years of age ; and, I know not why, but

Madame St. Bruno has earnestly re-T T^ 2 quested


quested that I will not embrace my P' S' l conJure you to recall theholy vows, till that period is past. wandering Percival ; and let it be the

study of your life, to teach him to for-I am not dejedted, I am not despair- get me>'"

ing : my mind is tranquil, and my soulis resigned.

When I ponder on the events of thelast six months, 1 ieel l ike the wretchedinmate of a dungeon, who, startingfrom some fearful dream, blesses hisdreary solitude for being one degreeremoved from despair. Adieu, muchtalked of uorld!---to me your sorrows,and your pleasures are unknown. Thepure flame of religion will henceforthguide me to the path of resignation ;and, when a few mournful years arepast, oblivion will efface for ever thename of

LAURA FITZ-OWEN.

P.S. IU 3 LETTER

$22 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE op BERTHA> ^

terday. He did not leave his chamberLETTER XLI tiU thef evening—he promised to sup

with us—we waited till midnight—heLADY MORELAND, did not arrive—our uneasiness increas-

ed, At day-break he returned- hpTO MRS. COURTNEY. , , , * * C L U J I I C U —nehad passed the whole night, which was

Vienna, Dec. ^.. very tempestuous, beneath the wallsI WISH I could communicate pleasing of the convent, which, in a few daysintelligence; but, alas! my dear So- will be the sepulchre of Laura Fitz-phia, the prospecl here is replete with Owen,miseries.

I have sent to request an interviewMr. Percival is almost in a state of with Madame St. Bruno, and am deter-

despair—his manner is wild and vary- mined to make her acquainted with thejng—his looks are expressive of secret whole story : for if I remain silent, andanguish—and his conversation evi- any dreadful event should happen, Idently bordering on frenzy. He is no should never forgive myself, to the lastlonger the delight of every society ; hour of my existence,his mien bears the mark of a disturbedimagination ; and, unless some very I will see Miss Fitz-Owen, and fromspeedy change takes place, I think the her will receive the sentence of Mr,worst is to be apprehended. Percival.

I saw him only for a moment yes- Adieu.terday,

£24 SHRINE OF BERTHA. gHRJNE Qf B£RTHA. 225

Adieu. I will write to you again,when I return from the convent.

Your's ever, LETTER XLII.

MARIA MORELAND.FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME.

Vienna, Feb. 179-.

J HAVE this evening seen the angelicLaura! I did not think such a beinginhabited this world! If the mourn-ful impression which she has madeupon my mind, will allow me thepowers of description, I will give youan exact detail of our short interview.

Mr. Percival, who has not yet beenpermitted to see her, conjured me, inthe most touching and energetic lan-guage, to conceal nothing from Ma-dame St. Bruno. With this resolutionI went to the convent, of which sheis lately become the superior. Shereceived me with a degree of gentle-

ness

226 SHRINE OF BERTH-A. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 227

ness and benignity, which seemed in- sion. Yet do not imagine that herspired by something more than human! mind is warped by prejudice, or that

any unfair influence has been exercised" Will you forgive me, madam, for to bring about this solemn resolution:

this intrusion ?" said I. it is her own free choice; though Iconfess, a sudden one ; for, till within

« Heaven forbid, replied Madame a very short period, she never evenSt. Bruno, ff that I, who profess to be hinted such a wish. I fear some sor-at peace with all the world, should row of the mind has fixed her deter"refuse to pardon so trivial an offence." mination, for of late she is not likeThen, taking my hand, she led me her former self."to a seat. I never beheld so capti-vating a woman ! « Alas!" said I, « my dear Madam,

™ J ™ ^ » -IT « MI y°Ll have developed the cause of her" My dear Madam," said I, " will uneasiness Y™, KO u>*• T-i. ^ i uneasiness, ion have ever been heryou permit me to see Miss Fitz-Owen? kindest, indeed, her only friend • andI will not detain her a moment." surely jt wouM g.ye ^

01 • • i- i, u »» -j \/r her watched."t( She is in her chamber, said Ma-dame St. Bruno, " but she shall attend TTyou instantly." Having dispatched a ^ 'UnquesUonably" replied Madamemessenger she proceeded °' Indeed there is no sa-messeng.er, she proceeded, cnhce l M ^ ^ ^

" In a few days the amiable Laura happy. Proceed Lady Moreland—Iwill embrace, forever, a life of seel u- am anxious to hear you propose any

sio!1- plan

228 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. S2&

plan that can promote her felicity." vitably destroy one of the most deserv-ing of men."

I continued, " The wretched being,whose miseries touch her feeling heart, At this moment Laura entered theis now waiting to know his doom— room.Mr. Percival."—

Sophia, the pencil of the RafaelleShe started at the -name, then bowing could not paint so divine a figure! She

her head, gave me the signal to pro- was in mourning; a long white veil,ceed. I obeyed. thrown off her beautiful forehead, fell

from the top of her head, in ample« The monastic life," said I, « in folds, quite to the ground ; her auburn

which you have passed your days, has hair waved about her face and on hernot deadened the fine sensations of your shoulders; her form was majesty itself,soul—you quit not the world, driven though every step was marked withby the superstitious terror of a guilty graceful meekness!or weak mind ; you can pity, you canfeel the miseries of love." She approached me with a serenity

of countenance: such as Guido would" I have felt them," said Madame have chosen for a Madona. Her face

St. Bruno, sighing deeply. I continued: was pale, but so divinely placid, thatI felt an awful admiration while I

« This dreadful sacrifice, which Miss looked at her, which almost chainedFitz-Owen is about to make, will ine- my tongue.

vitably VOL. u. X « Lady


r- (f Lady Moreland," said she, " ac- Madame St. Bruno read the letter.cept my thanks for this kind attention. Her hand trembled, she changed co-You are come to take your leave of me ; lour, and, with some difficulty, said,and I rejoice that my situation still « Lady Moreland, I will see Mr. Per-allows me the honour of seeing you." cival to-morrow at noon. This is a

cruel business, and melts my heart toShe enquired for her " dear Sophia," pity- I yet trust, his grief is not with-

out some hope ; and that it will be in" Miss Fitz-Owen," said I, "wi l l my power to afford him consolation. I

you allow me to deliver a message from request that you will accompany himMr. Percival?" hither." I promised to obey her,

She pressed my hand, and a tear I have delivered the message to Mr.stole down her beautiful face---like dew Percival., and we wait, wi th solemnupon the drooping lily ! She then took expectation, for the interview.from her bosom the last letter whichshe had received from Mr. Percival. Adieu, my dear Sophia,

" Read that paper, my dearest, best Yours most truly,of friends," said she to Madame St.Bruno, " and then judge whether I MARIA MORELAND.ought to hear the name of Mr. Percival."She then embraced me, and, over-whelmed with distress, retired.

Madame X 2 LETTER

233 SHRIKE OF BERTHA, SHRINE OF BERTHA. 283

tf Mr. Percival," said she, " youcame to hear my counsel; you must

T TTT-TPO VT T T T not oversteP the bounds of decorum."Ltil IJcat ALII I.He started up ; his countenance was

THE SAME TO THE SAME, wild, pale, and distorted, his eyes hol-low, and deeply sunk.

Vunna, Feb. 379., r J

THIS day, at noon, \\c obeyed the " Madam," replied he, " I am thesummons of Madame St. Bruno. We most forlorn of beings: you will, Ifound the charming Laura sitting with trust, forgive me—I shall not longher. Her eyes encountered Percival's* transgress; perhaps this is my lastand she seemed scarcely able to support offence,, as such I may hope it will beherself. pardoned—

He instantly threw himself at her The Iooks of Miss Fitz-Owen are notfeet, and resting his forehead on her to be êscribed: She rose to leave thehands, which he held together, he Parloir; her whole frame trembled,remained for some moments fixed as her eês were ful1 of tears—a statue. Percival seized her hand. « Whither

are you going ? said he; « You shallMadame St. Bruno looked at me, and not depart_ Then< turning tQ the A^

smiled, while a soft blush overspread besSj he continued: Oh! suffer herher countenance. stay—conjme her to be merciful—mv

"" Mr^ Y o *A 3 SOul

S34- SHRINE OP BERTHA. SHRINE OF BfiBTHA. 233

soul is on the wing—and if she quits »r y father, the Marquis St. Bruno,me, must seek eternal horror," was illustrious by birth, but of a proud

and avaricious mind. He had onlyHis voice, his manner, were terribly two children, myself and the Lady

impressive: his eyes were fixed on Ma- Bertha. From our infancy he wisheddame St. Bruno, his hand still grasped to deny us the pleasures of society,—Miss Fitz Owen's— which induced the Baron de Waldberg,

my mother's brother, to give us fre-Madame St. Bruno then intreated quent invitations to his hospitable

that he would be composed, and at- mansion. There I first beheld thetend to what she was about to say. We Comptc de Montmorency: he was amia-took our seats, and for a moment a ble, accomplished, and valiant; butsolemn silence prevailed. The amiable he wanted the only advantage my fa-Abbess then began : ther valued ;—he was not rich. I can-

not enter into a minute detail of all our" I can feel," said she, " I can pity sorrows. He left Vienna in despair;

your misfortunes. Though born in he joined the army; he died in battle.Vienna, to all the prospects of luxu-rious splendour, I have, from my youth, "A short time after the dreadfulbeen the solitary tenant of a monas- news reached Vienna, an alliance wastery." Here she paused a moment, as proposed to me: my heart shudderedif to subdue a painful recollection. at the thought; I dared not absolutelyAgain she proceeded— refuse to obey the Marquis; therefore

requested six months to consider, anda \fv reconcile

SS6 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHR,NE OF BERTH4. „

reconcile my mind to an event so awful, of relations-and-were privately mar

lS±"g' 5° "tUe C°ngenial t0 ??• Owingtothet^cUrfKinend, the union was disclosed to the

» During that period, n,y sister Ber- Slclf'T ?' r '"16"'tha, who was the fairest flower that ever rf ™n ; "* "" *erms

adorned this country, at the house of WasT T' ' K "* be'OVed Shter

our uncle, .eca.ne acâinted with A°, Zu^^^ ^ *"thur Lord Granmore: he was on his ««*v«uj.travels, attended only by his tutor • " T nr j r^n^ r^—Ztt1 htt-tali;" a" °™ament'° WS then The s™* ^"o*«nce h« £

ceived- dur ing his travels, was scarcely„ „. , , sufficient to support a wile. But he

_ H,s graceful person and interest- adored Lady Granmore-and stung £ing c™v^"on, entn-ely captivated the heart by the insult she had rece vedthe heart of Bertha. A mutual attach. he persuaded her to quit the coTtrvment was visible, and they seemed to and fly to Switzerland Counu7.breathe but for each other.

wh': sIhhee:rTtlB:;;::ePtri0dfbe

tr,f-fierce, haughty, and unfeeling: Lord most refined vl^t £ £

Granmore was a protestant. Thelov- derest conr^m f^ H • ,O. despaired of obtaining the consent ation! ^'J^^t

vonred,

£38 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE op BERTHA( ^

voured, in vain, to sooth ray father, « Lord Granmore departed: he em-promised, during his life, to allow her braced his beauteous wife, his infantan independent income. I attend their daughter—for the last time. Shortlyflight; and, for more than a year, par- after a letter arrived, saying that heticipated their blissful retirement. My was the happiest of mortals, his fortunelovely sister now became a mother." immense, and his friends, particularly

Lord Litchfield, impatient for the ar-Here Mr. Percival raised his eyes to rival of Lady Granmore.

heaven in silent agony, at the recol-leftion of Miss Warton. " Jllst at this Period my father, the

Marquis St. Bruno, was appointed Im

Madame St. Bruno proceeded.— pcrial Ambassador to the Court of" Lord Granmore was now of age, London. He had been but a few dayswhen the news arrived that his father Jn. thc Kr|tish metropolis, when, in awas no more. His return to England mixed sodety, he met Lord Granmore.was absolutely necessary. My sister Looks of contempt, on both sides, pro-had only a few days before given birth yoked altercation : the Marquis wasto a daughter, and her precarious state impetuous--and the cold disdain of theof health precluded the possibility of £°unS Earl provoked him to outrage,travelling, without endangering her ie drcw hls sword—they were sepa.existence. Her grief was undescribable ra ted--but Lord Granmore felt hisat the separation ; but her husband's honour injured, and on the followinginterest demanded the sacrifice--and da^ sent hil" a challenge.she yielded' d " They f°«ght; Lord Granmore fell."

"The

g40 8&RINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OP BERTHA. 241

*' The news was conveyed to us by nave derived any pleasure from theLord Litchfield. My sister was, for possession of wealth. The settledmany weeks, deprived of reason ; when gloom of melancholy cannot be chearedthe frenzy of grief settled into profound ^v the tillsel lustre of worldly magni^melancholy, she resolved to bury her- licence!self for the remainder of her life inretirement. " On the following year I took the

v o w s of celibacy. My bister, and her"Shortly afterwards Lord Litchfield infant, came to reside in the convent

came to Switzerland, in order to place 'V l t h me> as pensioners. I had scarcelya distant relation in a convent. My takcn t!'e veil six months, when newssister, with her infant daughter, and arrived of my father's death. He ex-myself, resided in a small villa, near pired at enmity with my poor sister;Geneva. Lord Litchfield commended ])ut to me he bequeathed the uhole ofher economy; and informed her that lus fortune.Lord Gran more's estate, so far frombeing ample had proved exceedingly " Lady Granmore, deeply afflictedincumbered ; that the whole of his pro- îth the remembrance of her father'sperty was scarcely sufficient to liqui- displeasure, hourly declined; this newdate the debts incurred by his late instance of persecution vvas too severefather, who had always been more con- for Iier exquisitely sensible mind, shespicuous for splendor, than for pru- ^Vas fad«ng fast to that heaven whichdence; had it been otherwise, my sis. pr faith and her virtues taught her toter's state of mind was notsuch as would h°Pe for: I need not relate the mourn-

have VOL-«- Y ful

242 SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRm£ op ^ ^

ful circumstances of her death-you examining her effects, in order to see ifalready know them. he had left any û> l found fche goM

casket, with its contents,, as you dis-- She was buried in the rums of a coyered them The ^ was

chapel belonging to an ancient con- written by me."vent, near that \\hich we then inha-bited; the body was deposited at mid- Here Madame St Bruno hesitated,night, without any holy ceremony. and wept extremely.

« Thus left to mourn her loss, I de- Laura tremblingly en quired, "Whe-termined to rebuild our monastery. We ther the miniature which she had foundremoved, about six years since, to the was the portrait of Lady Bertha's hus-"vicinity of Geneva, w h i l e the fabric was band?"completing. You, my dear Laura,remember these circumstances. " J* was th* Portrait <* **r Father,

the late Lord GrannioreP' said Ma. '... , , dame St. Bruno.« The lonely spot which concealed

the remains of my dear Bertha, would Laum gh ^never have been known had you not dcad Pdiscovered it. It was her particulardesire that her daughter should remain Pe|.dval ^ ^ tQ under my care till she became of age; a!ld vith the assistance of Madanie 'and that the story of her mother should BnmO| and § •till then, be concealed fton, t o . O n she appeared to be ^

examining yg Q^


Our consternation was not to be de- when she heard of the embarrassedscribed. state of your late father's finances. And

I thought the happiest life you couldShe recovered sufficiently to recoF- adopt, would be that of total seclusion

left the story. She fell on Edward's from a world of sorrow. With thisneck, and seemed to revive. opinion, I only permitted you to use

the name of Fitz-Owen ; that of Lord" Laura," said her amiable Moni- Granmore's mother, who was the

tress, " I have discharged my duty., daughter and heiress of Sir EdmundThis day, one and twenty years, you Fitz-Owen, and who died at the samefirst beheld the light. You have my hour that she gave your father to theconsent to wed Mr. Percival. You world."are formed to adorn the world; youshall have my unceasing prayers. Be I cannot proceed : the recollection ofgrateful, and be happy." the scene seizes on all my faculties.

" The request of Lady Granmore,, * * * *. *that you should not know your origin,till you were of age, was probably OR The remains of Lady Granmore, byaccount of her invincible attachment order of Mudarne St. Bruno, wi l l arriveto the catholic religion, and her appre- at Vienna in a few days. The messen-hensions that you might be influenced ger was dispatched on the awful busi-by the Granmore family to change it. ness, immediately af'er the death ofHer injunctions were strengthened Claudine, whose ashes are deposed

whcn Y3 near

246 SHRINE OF BERTHA. &HIUNE OF BERTHA. 247

near the spot in \\hich those of LadyGran more are to rest.

As soon as the solemn ceremonies are LETTER XLIV.concluded, I trust I shall have the feli-city of witnessing the marriage of Mr. EDWARD PERCIVAL,Tercival and the adorable Laura. To SI1< FRANCIS COLVILLE,

i'\enria, March, i - " ) - ,Adieu! —

1 ins day has put a period to all myVery sincerely yours, earthly niisclT> for blest with such

a wife as Laura, I shall henceforthM A R I \ M O R E L A K D , laugh at all the calamities of this

world!

We remain only a few chrys at Vi-enna, and shall then proceed to Eng-land. If Lord Li t rhf ie ld has cou-rage to meet the \ \oman he wishedto injure, the only child of his bestfriend—the orphan whom he has en-deavoured to defraud ; 1 shall not, byscreening his villany, become a confe-derate in his crimes.

LETTER The

248 SHRINE OP BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 249*The relics of Lady Granmore ar-

rived here a few days since, and were,at the particular request of MadameSt. Bruno, immediately deposited in LETTER XLV.the chapel of her convent. The cere-mony was awful beyond description — LADY MORELANIVMy beloved wife was placed in a very

* . . . . *; , „ y TG MRS. COURTNEY.distressing situation, to become firstacquainted with a mother, at the mo- Vienna, March 179...nient when she was consigned to the YOUR amiable friends are at last corn-grave, pletely happy. They were married

yesterday. The ceremony was per-Lady Moreland sets out to-morrow formed at the good old Baron deWald-

for Italy. She only remained so long berg's, who presented the bride ato witness my day of splendid delight! splendid set of brilliants upon the oc-

casion. The party assembled on theColville, you must experience all my blissful morning$ were the DuchesSe de

agonies, before you can form an idea Howenstein, Madame St. Bruno, Mon-of my felicity. s}eur and Madame de Leitzberg, the

A •.. Baron and Baroness de Waldberg, Mr.' Percival, and Lady Laura, Lord More-EDWAHD PERCIVAL. land' aild myself.

As you will feel the tenderest inter-LETTER est*

L.. ^ SHRINE OF BERTHA. Q&l&S6 SHRINE OF BERTHA%

. . ., , „ ., r.., . the wreath which bound her luxuriantest in the event, all the little cir- , . . , cMI i i , auburn hair! The blush of consciouscumstances will, perhaps, be accept- . .,, delight, mingled with modest grace,heightened her beauty astonishingly.—

On my arrival at the Baron's, I found Perci val was wild with raPture-the whole party waiting, exceptI, j r In tne evening, the Baron gave a

^ * magnificent baH. There the bride„,, , , vi j appeared as the heiress of Lord Gran-The apartment was superbly deco- , TT j , / ,

rated, and hung round with festoons more' "er dre,5S "" "f" °f Sl1'of roses. A small altar was ereBed, ver^spotted muslm and she wore a

... r ,M M1 ... prorusion or diamonds, some of whichwith a canopy of lilac silk over it. f 'had belonged to her mother, and others,

Lady Laura entered the room, led by ^ haf b!fn that <% presented toMadame St Bruno; the effed was en- }^r^ th

oe Baron de W^dberg, and

chanting ; the dress of an abbess, con- Madame St' Bruno-trasted with that of the beautiful bride,was wonderfully striking. Lad^ Laura has settled a comfort-

able independence on old Terese, andLady Laura wore a simple robe of the honest Etienne. At her desire I

the finest cambric j the sleeves were write > for she says she cannot expressshort, and fastened just above the el; what her heart feels,bow, with a row of pearls; her zonewas formed of white roses, similar to The joy here is universal; and num-

the berless

£** Utftim OF BERTHA. SHBINE op BERTHA. ^3

berless fetes are preparing to celebratethe marriage.

Adieu! LETTER LXVI.

Ever sincerely yours,LADY LAURA PERCIVAL,

MARIA MORELAND.TO MADAME ST. BRUNO.

London, A}rilt 179-.

A. STRANGER, in a new world, to thebeloved monitress of my early days,I now address myself.

Dearest and best of friends, accepta thousand grateful and aflefuonate re-membrances. To you, I owe all myprospecls of delight, to you, whosetender care has led me on to happiness,and rendered me worthy of the heartof Percival.

My life must be a scene of felicity ;the mind your example has inspired,

LETTER VOL. n. Z and

254 SHRINE OF BERTHA. S11RINE °F BtRTHA. l^5

and your precepts cultivated, cannot out for that Place to-morrow. Youerr, and the reward of reflitude is bliss shal1 hear f rom me """"antly..-conscious bliss---beyond the capricesor the frowns of fortune. I shall, once A thousand blessings, such as yourin two years, pay you a visit; Edward virtues deserve, attend you.has promised to indulge me in this re-quest; for, if I had not such m hope Believe me' "? dear inadam> y°«rto cherish, I should, though the wife of grateful and affi&ionate niece,Percival, feel that my happiness was in-complete. 1AURA PERCIVAL,

Believe me, my dear, my kind pre-ceptress, all the gaudy scenes of lifeshall not make me unmindful of you.I will, in fancy, often visit your sa-cred habitation ; and the delightful en-chantment shall teach me to believe,that Laura Percival is not forgotten inyour prayeis.

On our arrival, we found that LordLitchfield was at Bath, dangerously ill—Miss Warton was with him; andthat she was a great favourite. We set T T^T™

out L LETTER

2,56 SHRINE OF BERTHA, SHRINE OF BERTHA, 2,57

' after the stigma he has thrown on hisr family, by his disgraceful alliance.

LETTER XLVIL * With regard to Mrs. Percival, af short time will elucidate her pretend-

THE SAME TO THE SAME. ' ed claims to the fortune of Lordf Granmore. Lord Litchfield's death

latb, Aprils-, t ^m probab]y terminate that busi-Wednesday Evening, < ness Latfy Belinda requests that she

WE have only been in Bath five mi- ' may receive no further trouble, asmites. Lord Litchfield is in extreme^ * she disclaims all intercourse with Mr.danger; he has refused to see Mr. Per- ' and Mrs. Pt rcival*cival, 'vho received a denial from the

c -\ r- \tr i. i •» • North Parade,pen or Miss Warton! I give you an1 fo . de.lnesday Kigkt.exact transcript of her note; it \\illamuse you excessively!---

I am informed that Miss Wintertori' Lady Belinda Granmore informs Mr. js thc g0irernanie of Miss Warton ; and

'Percival, that he cannot see Lord tj,at si,e js Sl.pp0scc| to have a most'Litchfield; and that she thinks his powerful in f luence over the mind of' intrusion extremely indelicate and jier p u p i j ^r r > Percival has some' improper, at a moment so critical. doubts, whether Lord Litchfiejd knows

of our arrival at Bath, and ratirer at-« Mr. Percival has no right to expea tributes Miss Warton's note to some

< any indulgence from Lord Litchfield, concerted plan, than to any wish of'after Z 3 the

258 SHRINE OF BERTHA, SHRINE OF BERTHA. 2S9

the Earl's. I shall not finish my letter and the, wealthiest in the kingdom,till to-morrow: Accept my blessing, and forget all

that has passed. As you are the last* * * * * * descendant o f your illustrious family,* * * * * * your existence w a s scarcely known ;

and,, as I had been informed, that atThunday Morning, the particular request of your deceas-

At day-break, a message arrived ed mother> y°u were destined to takefrom Lord Litehfield, desiring that the veil, I had conceived the unworthyEdward and myself would instantly idea

;of bestowing your wealth on my

attend him. We obeyed the summons. dauS*>t", Belinda Warton. I shallA more melancholy scene I never wit. leave her an independent fortune ; but

j as she is wholly without connectionshere, 1 conjure you to countenance

He was just able to speak, though per- l ier> and to shield her mother from thefeftly sensible; he knew me ; and the severity of self-reproach."instant I entered the room, beckonedme to approach him. His Solicitor " Depend upon my zeal and my ten-was with him, I knelt by his bedside, derness," said I; " it shall be ray pridehe put his arms forth and embraced to pro tea her, and my pleasure toamuseme: "Oh! child of my departed her ; does her mother still live?"friend," said he, " I thank heaven Istill live to do thee justice; thou art the "Her mother," said Lord Litch-Heiress of Arthur Lord Granraore, field, « is Mrs. Lucretia Winterton.**

and At

£6O SHRINE OF BERTHA. SHRINE OF BERTHA. 261

At this moment Miss Winterton his Solicitor, such deeds and papers,suddenly vanished. as put him in full possession of my fa-

ther's estate, which I am told is one of" Alas !" continued the Earl, " it the most beautiful in this country. It

would imbitter my last moments, if I is greatly improved, and in completethought this secret would transpire." repair. Lord Litchfield, as the guar- *

dian of Lord Granmore's daughter,He appeared to be quite exhausted, made it his place of residence,

and I quitted the room. His Soli-citor and Mr. Percival remained with As soon as the last obsequies arehim. performed, we depart for Sir Hervey

Wentworth's, in Berkshire; from* * * * * * thence w e shall proceed with a large* * * * * * party t o Gran more Castle, i n Glou-

cestershire. You may be assured Ishall not go, without my dear Sophiaand Mr. Courtney.

FicrpoMt-sti'eet, Thursday Nigt't,

Eleven ^ clock. I am impatient to see that extraor-At eight o'clock this evening, Lord dinary character Lady Cavil, whose

Litchfield quitted this world. He be- vulgarity, and perpetual affectation ofcame speechless a short time after I ion, have induced the sarcastic Sirleft him ; but not before he had deli- Francis Colville to christen her thevered to Edward, in the presence of Manchester fustian of second rate

his fashion.*

262 SHRINE OF BERTHA.SHRINE OF BERTHA. 26S

fashion. I cannot believe such a being,, , TT , , , • o . Believe me ever, with tendernessexists. My dear Edward objects to , , ,.

. , /. - t, . i i • * and gratiude, my darling monitressher society, fearing that her boisterous 5 ' J . 5 muc6j». , .*,' . -i t -4.U and most faithful tnend,mirth will not assimilate \vith my

sober monastic manners. vi our affectionate niece,

Mrs Winterton and her daughterr f i û • * * I 1 LAURA WTCHFIELD,set out for London, the instant Lord

Litchfield expired. He has left anannuity of six hundred pounds to theformer, and ten thousand pounds to FINIS.the latter. The rest of his fortuneand his title devolve on my belovedEdward.

Thus I see the termination of mysorrows.

Edward joins with me in afFe<5lionatewishes for your health and repose.

Believe

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