age of Rossiniere had, for some centuries, belonged to the St. Alme family, who had long held nearly the first place in the heart of almost every inhabitant of the village: the Pastor had, from time immemorial, been looked up to as the friend, and had been the consoler, under all their afflictions, of his grateful villagers. Strangers might have talked of the ancient family of St. Alme, but those who knew them talked only of their benevolence and piety.

The time drew near for Rosine's departure, and poor Rosine thought the time flew very swiftly: during the last week of her stay, another temptation nearly shook her resolution. She had felt a slight preference (to which she never allowed herself to give way) for her cousin, a young officer in the Prussian service, who had lately been residing with his mother atRossiniere. When her intention to leave Switzerland was declared, he discovered that he was deeply attached to her, and he was unable to conceal his affection. Adrien had no fortune, and could offer her no inducement to remain, but, as he parted from her, he could not resist declaring his sentiments; Rosine promised she would not forget him, and her manner proved that she could not.

The dreaded parting was over: without the

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her heart was touched, and a gushing flood of tears relieved her.

As they passed a wood of beech trees, at a small distance from Rossiniere, Adrien sprang forward, waved his hand to her, and vanished instantly among the trees: he had waited there to see Rosine for the last time, and her sad smile was never forgotten by him.

Rosine could not be insensible to the kindness of M. du Mercie, who was the very person best calculated to soothe her: he had also left Switzerland when young, and had been, during the chief part of his life, the minister of a Protestant Church, in London; he was now leaving his country, he had every reason to believe, for the last time; for he was very old, and had taken leave, for the last time, of all his relations; he came over from England for that purpose, and was returning to die there.

During their journey, Rosine saw much to gratify her curiosity, but little to astonish her, till she was standing on the deck of the vessel which conveyed her to England. "This," said she to her venerable companion" this wonder

ful ocean can be compared to our mountains. Here is one of the Creator's works unpolluted; these vast waters roll on, as they did when God first divided them: man is ever taught here his own insignificance." "Yes, Rosine," said the old clergyman, "and the dignity, the great value of his soul, is ever declared to him here; for this mighty ocean will pass away into nothing, while the invisible soul must live for ever. God seems to have ordained, that some of the creations of his hand shall be, as it were, for a season, images of his power:-the ocean, the loftiest mountains, may be compared to death; they are not to be subdued by man, but they will be all finally swallowed up, while the soul can never die. Oh! if persons, who trifle with their souls, would remember, that the invisible spirit, which they neglect, as of no value, is superior to every visible object; that the heavens and the earth must be consumed, but that there is a day of judgment-no day of annihilation-for the soul!"

M. du Mercie had written, to inquire for some situation which might suit Rosine; and on her arrival, she proceeded immediately to the house of Mr. and Mrs. Stanley, who resided on their own estate, near the western coast of Sussex. They were delighted with her gentleness and

simplicity, and even with the melancholy which would at times betray itself, as they observed she was assiduous in her efforts to become cheerful. She was happy, for she recollected a conversation which had passed between herself and M. du Mercie; he told her, that when he first left his own country, he was very wretched; that he gave way to his feelings, and, after remaining a short time in England, returned to Switzerland; "but," he added, "I was unhappy there, for my conscience continually reminded me that I was neglecting my duty, and refusing opportunities of being useful to my family; this remembrance embittered every pleasure; I went again to England, and, in all the sadness I have since felt, the delightful assurance that I was doing my duty has consoled me."

Rosine was very successful in her exertions; she won the love and respect of all who knew her; with her little pupils she had the greatest influence; and by her patience, and the proved sweetness of her temper, she rendered them, daily, more amiable and obedient. With one of them, however, she wrought little apparent change; this girl had a violent temper, and Rosine found, that often, when she had begun to hope that Miranda had obtained some command

over herself, she broke forth again into fits of passion more violent than before; she would not bear to be jested with, and she continually found something to irritate her, where the offending person was totally unconscious of having offered an affront; never, but once, had she been angry with Rosine, and then she struck her.

One autumn evening, Rosine, to gratify her pupils, accompanied them to visit a poor person, in the neighbouring village: she found, on her return, that a slight cold, which had hardly been perceived before, had increased. She remained at home for a few days, and was soon much better; still the cold seemed to linger. Mr. Stanley was absent, about that time; but, on his return, the extreme paleness of Rosine alarmed him, and he noticed it to his wife: they both recommended her to have medical advice; but Rosine assured them that she was not so unwell as they imagined that she could complain of nothing but the remains of her cold. One morning, however, after she had been teaching the children, she fainted away; Mrs. Stanley hesitated no longer, but instantly sent for a physician. Rosine was lying down, when Dr.Maynard arrived; after he had seen her, he went, with Mrs.Stanley, into one of the parlours, to write a prescription: