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She wept bitterly. Wallen endeavoured to comfort her in a tremulous voice, for he was himself moved to tears." "Tis but fatigue," said he, “that has overcome your father; refreshment and rest will soon restore him; he shall find both in my house, together with the tenderest sympathy, for I too have buried a beloved wife?”,

Wallca's servants now arrived out of breath, bringing whatever the patient was likely to want, and much more, for in such cases Mrs. Susan was disposed rather to do too much than 400 little. The bed was carefully covered, as had been agreed upon, then gently taken up and borne away. Walleu offered his arm to the daughter, and both followed close at the heels of the bearers. On the way home, Wallen did not once look up at the stars, though he was delighted with their brilliancy, for he attentively observed how it was reflected from the fair face of his companion. The latter wept more bitterly than ever it seemed, she said, as though she were once more following the corpse of her mother. At the same time she anxiously watched every step of the bearers, and warned them of every stone that lay in the way.

When they at length reached the aged limetrees near the mansion, and proceeded beneath their branches, silent as the surrounding night, the procession certainly resembled a fanerai. Wilhelmina, to keep herself from sinking, was obliged to grasp Wallen's arm more firmly; but on the steps that led up to the house, every thing assumed a more cheerful appearauce; bere the old gardener waited for them with torches; the staircase was brilliantly lighted, and at the top a door opened into a lofty apartment which Mrs. Susan had thoroughly aired. A soft bed which the kind creature had well warmed, stood ready to receive the patient. Into this he was gently lifted; he awoke still delirions, but scarcely did he enjoy the comforts of which he had long been deprived, when he fell into a sounder sleep than ever. Susan began to make preparations to sit up with him, but Wilhelmina smiled and shook her head, as much as to say how can any body dispute that right with me? A sofa placed close beside her father's bed was for fourteen nights her couch, which sleep very rarely visited.

Wallen had prophesied truly. Repose, wine, and the kindness of his excellent host, were the only remedies that the old man wauted for his recovery. In the third week he was able to leave his bed.

One day when Wallen gently opened the door, to pay his usual morning visit to his

guest, he beheld the father and daughter kneeling in prayer and returning thanks to | God, who in their greatest distress had rewarded their unshaken faith in him. Their backs were turned towards Wallen; he softly shut the door again, for fear of disturbing them, and walked for half au hour up and down the garden. Who could pray in that manner?" thonght he. "The faculty of faith is certainly an enviable one, but it is not to be acquired, even from the beavenly blue eyes of this excellent girl I cannot imbibe it.".

The

Mrs Susan had also found the strangers engaged in prayer, and listened to them with pious curiosity. The father addressed the Almighty with such fervour, the daughter listened to him with such devotion, that neither of them heard the soft step of the nurse. good old woman, though belonging to a different sect, and not exactly a pattern of toleration, stood still deeply affected, folded her hands, and with tears joined them in silent prayer; but when the guests with cheered spirits rose and sunk in each other's arms, she could restrain herself no longer. After a wellmeant, but rather coarsely expressed congiatulation on the recovery of the father, she highly commended the piety of them both; and then shifting her discourse to her master, she spoke in warm terms of his many excellent qualities, and had nothing to find fault with, but his want of faith. This she famented with an inexhaustible flow of eloquence, only now and then interrupted by the stories which she introduced; as, how she had carried him in her arms, had taught him when a boy the finest prayers, and notwithstanding all this she now lived to see—~-. fiere she paused; a sorrowful look, a shudder, betrayed what she durst not express, that she looked upon her master as eternally damned.

The curate, in order to comfort her, observed, that God will not judge mankind by their faith, but by their conduct; but he clearly perceived that by this remark he bad, iu Mrs. Susan's opinion, proclaimed himself a heretic. She shook her head and withdrew, casting on him a look of mingled pity and abhorrence.

In a few days Wallen heard with concern his grateful guests speak of their intention of speedily prosecuting their journey. In the few weeks which they had passed with him, he had been accustomed to their society, and to see Wilhelmina every day was now a matter of indispensible necessity. As long as she supposed her father to be in danger, all her || thoughts and feelings centered in him, and so long she had no eyes, and but few words for

sions.

her attentive host. But when the old man mina's grateful look and deep respiration aubegan daily to gain new strength, the beaute-nounced that a load of anxiety was removed ous flower which during the tempest had closed || from her heart. They departed. Wallen was its leaves, again expanded, and Wilhelmina || seated the whole day opposite to the fair Wil displayed an understanding that was worthy || helmina, in a carriage of not the largest dimenof her heart. "How, if she were to supply the place of my Louisa?" was an idea that would frequently steal across Wallen's mind This idea he encouraged, and was foud of considering in the most favourable points of view. A timid mistrust restrained the declaration of his passion. Louisa had loved him as ardently as he had loved her. Who could tell but what mere gratitude, or perhaps even a view to his fortune might conduct the second wife into his arms? On this account he concealed his feelings, however delicions was the influence of the genial warmth of spring, which, after so long a winter, had once more penetrated his heart. He resolved, indeed, to accompany his guests to Switzerland; but he || persuaded himself that his only motive was to force, in a delicate manner, the convenience || of a carriage upon the convalescent, to whom he was afraid of offering money.

When neither of them could raise their eyes, without encountering those of the other, and their knees met at every jolt of the vehicle. To a young man such a situation cannot bst be dangerous, let him be as much of a philosopher or astronomer as he pleases. True it is, that half of the danger might easily have been avoided, for there remained one vacant place in the carriage; Wallen needed only have seated himself opposite to the father; his eye would then have met only the venerable features of the curate, and none of those perilons, though accidental contacts would have taken place. But such was the arrangement made on first getting into the carriage, and made, perhaps, with the most innocent intention, with a view to the old gentleman's convenience, and afterwards nobody had a thonght of altering it. At the same time that Wallen's senses were thus as“I was never in Switzerland,” said he with saulted, love made a still more impetuous atan air of the most unaffected simplicity, to tack on his unguarded heart. He was not the old man; “your daughter's descriptions merely transported by the smiles of the sweet have awakened a dormant curiosity, which I lips opposite to his, but captivated by the some years since cherished, to visit that bean-wit and intelligence of the remarks which tiful country. I have no business to prevent ane-1 will therefore accompany you. My carriage is large and convenient; I will take you in it, and shall thus be relieved from Bruch solicitude, lest a relapse by the way should reduce you to a second dilemma; for cannot be easy till I conduct you safe to your own habitation."

Oswald, for that was the name of the Swiss, pressed his hand with emotion, while Wilhel

||

they uttered.

The beauteous blue eyes not only shamed the corn-flowers which they passed, but very often expressed exquisite sensibility. Every day Louisa's image grew more and more faint in Wallen's mind, while the impression produced by Wilhelmina, was strengthened in the same proportion.

[To be continued]

VISIT TO THE NUNNERY;

OR THE HISTORY OF DONNA MARIA DE SA.

MR. EDITOR,

Having met with the following Story in the private journal of a friend, I send it to you for the amusement of your Fair Readers. The occurrences actually took place not many years since in India; amongst those whose pity will be exerted by it, for an injured and interesting female, some may per kups recollect the incident. You may therefore depend upon its being authentic, though from motires delicacy, the names of the parties are concealed.

SUNDAY, 8th MARCH, 1709, P. M.-Light || love, and all the blandishments of social life, breezes from the eastward; at three, opened St. George's Islands, and soon descried the conrent of Nuestra Senhora, whose white walls, whilst they inclose some of the fairest daughiers of Portugal, secluding them from mutual

serve at the same time as a beacon to the seaworn mariner, and mark the southern point of the Bay of Alguarda, at the confluence of the River Mandova with the Arabian Gulph, leads ing up to the city of Goa.

| religious recluse, Donna Maria de Sd, who had been the friend of her early infancy, but whom she had not seen for many years, although a correspondence, at times had sub

Our course along shore was abreast of land swelling into lofty mountains covered with foliage and verdure to their very summits, whilst slips of low ground between the hills and sea, covered with mangroves and rattan,sisted between them; and as she was very and chequered at intervals by the majestic palm, gave shade and shelter to the peaceful Hindoo.

anxious to visit her fair friend, who was then in the convent of St., at Goa, she joined our party for the afternoon, together with her husband and children. As the habitations of the Portuguese settlers are principally on the banks of the Mardova, which separates into two branches some miles above Goa, thus

In the evening went into the Bay, whose broad expanse surrounded by undulating eminences, some of which were crowned with churches and monasteries, formed a pleasing eoutrast with the woody coast to the north-forming an island of twelve miles in length, ward. Anchored about three miles from the entrance of the river, which is marked by some low islands covered with mangroves and other aquatic trees, extending along the southern shore, until they reach the high land on which the convent stands.

I must confess, from the description I had heard of this convent whilst at Bombay, that I felt a strong inclination to turn Knight Errant, and rescue the imprisoned damsels from the iron pangs of bigotry and superstition, and to bring them into a situation where their beauties might expand to the opening day:

But fute forlade, nor circumscribed alone "My daring wishes,"

For I believe all my messmates felt the same glowing ardour. The setting sun, now throwing her last parting rays on these devoted walls, whilst all around was softening iuto shade, soon sunk below the horizon, and a short-lived twilight gave way to silence and to night. Yet pity for these ill-fated beings did not so soon leave our breasts; nor could we, whilst traversing the deck, avoid comparing their lot with that of our fair countrywomen on England's happy shore.

At dawn of day, our party being arranged, we set off in the cutter, and arrived at Panjeem to breakfast, at the house of Don Antonio de P, agent for our India Company; in this village, which is about four miles from Goa, all the principal people have for some years fixed their residence, on account of the extreme unhealthiness of the city itself; and here we spent the day during the extreme heat, in order that an early dinner should give us an oppor tunity of visiting Goa with more convenience.

At the hospitable board of Don Antonio, we were joined by some more of our friends from the ship, amongst whom was a lady, a native of India, proceeding to Europe with her hus. band and three lovely children. This lady was particular in her enquiries respecting a No. V.-Vol. I.-N. S.

and six or seven in breadth, travelling is generally performed by water. For this purpose the gentry have large gondolas, in imitation of those of Venice, elegantly ornamented with silk curtains often fringed with gold, and their family arms carved and gilt on the canopy which covers the after-part of the boat. Knowing that we should be admitted under the sanction of our fair companion into the convent, we were all extremely anxious to know the history of the interesting recluse. Mrs. B-therefore gratified our curiosity whilst proceeding up the river. Donna Maria de Sd, was the daughter of a Portuguese gentleman residing at an English settlement on the Malabar coast, and was early distinguished for her beauty and sweetness of temper, and for a share of good sense which shewed itself even in spite of that contracted edu. cation which was all that the country afforded her. Brought up under parents, who were strict and bigotted Catholics, she still preserv ed a liberality of sentiment, though her gentle disposition prompted her to yield in all points implicit obedience to those parents thus teaching her, almost in infancy, to practise that heaven descended virtue-resignation!

At the age of sixteen she accompanied her parents to Madras, where she soon became acquainted with an amiable English youth, Henry M, who had lately arrived from Europe, as a writer in the Company's service. A mutual attachment soon began to twine round their hearts, but Henry was an heretic, and she was strictly forbidden ever again to see him.

At this crisis a Portuguese gentleman of middle age, whose relations resided in one of our settlements, but who had been for some years settled in the Portuguese service at Macao in China, arrived at Madras; he was introduced to the family of Donna Maria, and was so much charmed with her as to offer terms to her parents, which they were too prudent to refuse. Being obliged to return immediately

I i

=

to Macao, he was anxious to hasten the mar-inside the gate to the Lady Abbess, and Don

riage, and in the same moment in which he was introduced to Maria as a lover, she was ordered to receive him as a husband

Knowing that remonstrance would have no effect on her parents, she endeavoured to stimulate the pride and self-love, as well as the honour of her new admirer, by telling him that her heart was already engaged; this however seemed only to prompt him to hasten the wedding, which took place in a few days from that time.

Jose on some trifling pretence went out, to return no more! The gates of the convent were now closed upon her, and a small stipend being allowed according to custom, the weeping and thus widowed mourner had dragged on a lingering existence for seven years, without any exterior consolation except that of a casual correspondence with her earliest friend, whose letters were sometimes, though not always, transmitted to her.

Whilst commiserating the fate of the poor Maria, a sudden bend in the river brought the city of Goa, with its proud towers and turrets, to our view. Standing on a lofty hill crowned by the Cathedral of St. Thomas, and embosomed in trees with the pinnacles of numberless religious edifices peeping through the dark green of the surrounding foliage, it rose like enchantment to our view, and a few minutes brought us to the wharf at the waterport; close to this wharf stands the viceregal palace, whose lofty grey walls, built after the Moorish fashion, gave us rather the idea of a prison than of the residence of a representa. tive of royalty. The gate into the city is under this palace, and as we crossed its deserted courts, a chilling gloom was thrown over our minds, which was not lessened by contemplating the frowning statues of Vasco de Gama, and of Alphonso de Albuquerque, which stand over the portal, as the guardian genii of the place. This palace is now merely kept for purposes of state, the Viceroy resid

The honey moon had scarcely elapsed, when Don Jose took his passage in a country ship bound to China, intending to return in a few months. He left his fair bride however with her family; but after an absence of a year returned to Madras, where he found the lovely Maria, with a smiling infant in her arms; but at the first sight of his wife and child, the demon of jealousy took possession of his soul! It is needless to mention that the climate of Judia has had such an effect on the descendants of the original Portuguese settlers, as to give them a tinge approaching to the negro; this however is confined to the men, as the women in general are not darker than the Portuguese ladies in Europe. But Donna Maria herself, as her grandmother had been an English womap, was much fairer than those oriental descendants of Lusitania; and her hair, instead of a jetty black, approached nearer to the lovely auburn of English beauty. Her infant was fairer than even its ill fated mother, and its locks of glossy brown twining over a rosy dim-ing always at Panjeem. Emerging from these pled cheek, struck like a dagger to the heart of the suspicious father, stirring up every jealous and revengeful passion in his breast, and giv. ing a deeper tinge to his sombre counte

nance.

He did not brood long over his suspicions, nor did he, by expressing his jealousy, afford Donna Maria any opportunity of vindicating herself from an improper conduct with the unfortunate Henry, who was then lingering out existence at one of the interior factories. Yet still prompt to revenge his supposed dishonour, he expressed a wish to present his wife and child to his relations on the other side of India; and a Portuguese ship laying in the roads ready to sail, they embarked on board her.

This ship was to touch at Goa, and on their arrival there, Don Jose proceeded to the city with Donna Maria and her little one. Curiesity prompted them to visit the convent of St.; Donna Maria, with the smiling uuconscious infant in her arms, was introduced

gloomy walls, we entered a spacious street, whose lofty houses which all seemed recently white washed, impressed us at first sight with high expectations; but alas! the grass was growing in the streets, the houses were deserted, their doors, balconies, and window-lattices falling to decay.

We traversed several streets of the same sombre appearance, meeting only a few tall ghastly figures, whose long white robes and broad brimmed hats, diversified only by the cordon of St. Francis, or the black scapulary of St. Dominic, gave a kind of death-like animation to this scene of universal silence and desolation.

Proceeding to the Bazar, which had formerly resounded with the noise of commerce, from the voices of merchants of an hundred nations, the sound even of our footsteps seemed to echo around, and we were only interrupted by the respectful salaums of a few of the poor natives, whom we judged to be Christians from the leaden crucifixes and agni dei, with which they

ere ornamented, in the absence of almost every species of clothing.

We now proceeded to the convent of St.; and on making known our wish to see Donna Maria, were admitted into the parlour, where sat a jolly friar, whilst two or three of the nuns were conversing with him through the grate; the Lady Abbess now made her appearance, and as many of the nuns in succession as could assemble at the grate, which was about six feet square, and would easily admit a head between the bars. The professed nuns were in general old, and from their looks of settled sorrow, as well as the effects of their meagre diet, could not be called handsome, though some of them were extremely interesting; we were introduced to them in succession, and seemed to be as much a show to them as they were to us; particu larly the children, with whom they were much delighted, and we could not help smiling when each successive party, after admiring the little ones, invariably asked "who was their father?" To gratify their curiosity, we made our friend B, stand in the front, what excited so much titter among these female clergywomen, particularly with two buxom lasses who were only clad in the white veil of noviciate, that the Lady Abbess, fearful the slumbers of the two latter might be disturbed, ordered them away, and we saw them no more. The nuns seemed to pay very little attention to our fair companion; those who did speak to her talked of the happiness of their situation and lamented her fate in being exposed to all the horrors of a bustling world. A variety of artificial flowers, toys of shrines and saints in cut paper, and embroidery, were offered to our notice, and we were given to understand that we might purchase these, as the produce went to procure the holy sisters some little indulgences of fruit, &c. beyond the meagre fare of the convent, whose funds were rather on a circumscribed scale.

On enquiring again for Donna Maria, they told us that her feelings had prevented her as yet from joining us; however she now approached, leading her little daughter by the hand, our most ardent ideas were here surpassed by the interesting appearance of the poor secluded mourner, who stole slowly upon our expectation in the sable veil of profession and in the deepest mourning; the effect of this was strongly contrasted by the appearance of the young Maria, clad in white, her auburn locks playing round an intelligent countenance smiling eveu in despite of monastic austerity, whilst her head, and the whole of her dress,

were fantastically ornamented with artificial flowers of variegated hues, such as we see the our mimic poor lovelorn Ophelia upon

boards.

The first minute of this meeting of the long separated friends passed in expressive silence, which was at last broken by Donna Maria, who spoke of her happiness on this unexpect ed meeting; then bastily adverting to her own happiness in this scene of religious seclusion, congratulated herself on being detached from a vain world, and thus mystically wedded to Christ, as being completely separated from all earthly ties except her love for her child, whom she intended to dedicate to God as soon as the ordinances of the society would permit her.

The scene was becoming too affecting, when a hasty message from the Abbess announced that the bell rang for vespers, obliged us to part abruptly; but on retiring from the convent, an ancient lay sister beckoned us to follow her.-Curious to see the issue of this adventure, we advanced towards a garden door which led into the cemetery, and crossing it || silently under the shade of the branching palm-trees, we entered the sick ward, where were two or three of the elder nuns, and were immediately joined by Donna Maria and her little girl. Surprized at this occurrence, so contrary to our ideas of their customs, we enquired by what magic it was that we had thus obtained admittance; when they informed us that Donna Maria being unwell was excused as well as the others from attending the régular service in the church to which the convent was attached, though not exempt from the matins, vespers, and vigils in their own chapel.

Some refreshments were then handed to us in a hurried manner, and the moment of parting arrived.-Donna Maria almost involuntarily could not help noticing the situation of her friend, thus accompanied by her husband and her children, and surrounded by her countrymen, going as she observed to a land of liberty and happiness!-She adverted again to her own happiness, but the exertion was too much for her spirits, her tears burst forth amidst the most heart-rending sighs, which even some among us, who had been accustomed to scenes of horror, could not behold unmoved. One last parting embrace was all that remained for the two friends!-We rushed out of the convent, and the last rays of the departing sun, now only gilding the highest spires in the city, warned us of our departure ; but the doors of the church being open, wa

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