CHAPTER I.

It is difficult to discover what are the exact sources from which spring the thrilling feelings of joy and satisfaction with which we look back to the days of our early youth, and to the scenes in which our infancy was passed. It matters not, or at least very little, what are the pleasures to which we have addicted ourselves in after years, what are the delights that surround us, what are the enjoyments which Heaven has cast upon our lot. Whenever the mind, either as a voluntary act or from accidental associations, recalls, by the art of memory, the period of childhood, and the things which surrounded it, there comes over us a general gladdening sensation of pure and simple joys which we never taste again at any time of life. It must be, at least in part, that the delights of those days were framed in innocence and ignorance of evil, and that he who declared that of such as little children consisted the kingdom of heaven, has allotted to the babes of this world, in the brightness of their innocence, joys similar to those of the world beyond—joys that never cloy, and that leave no

regret. What though some mortal tears will mix with those delights; what though the flesh must suffer, and the evil one will tempt; yet the allotted pleasures have a zest which not even novelty alone can give, and an imperishable purity in their nature which makes their remembrance sweeter than the fruition of other joys, and speaks their origin from heaven.

I love to dwell upon such memories, and to find likenesses for them in the course, the aspect, and the productions of the earth itself. I see the same sweetness and the same simplicity pervading the youth of all nature; and find in the sweet violet, the blue-eyed child of spring, an image of those early joys, pure, soft, and calm, and full of an odour that lasts upon the sense more than that of any other flower.

Thus it is, I suppose, and for these causes, that, in looking back upon the days of my youth, though those days were not as happy and as bright as they are to many people, I feel a sweet satisfaction which I knew not at the actual time; for those hours—as one who gives a diamond to a child—bestowed upon me a gift the value of which I knew not till many a year had passed away.

My first recollections refer to the period when I was about seven or eight years old, and to a sweet spot in the far south of France called Blancford, not far from the great city of Bordeaux. The chateau in which I dwelt had belonged for ages to my ancestors, and the little room in one of the turrets which was assigned to me, looked towards the setting sun over manifold beautiful green slopes and wooded banks, with now and then a broken, cliffy bit of yellow ground, that harmonized beautifully and richly with the warm tints of the spring and the autumn, and broke not less pleasantly the thick green of the mid year. Upon those banks, and trees, and slopes, the sunshine seemed to dwell with peculiar fondness; and thither came the bright and smiling showers of spring, and the rich, vision-like lights and shades of autumn. Gay hawking parties, and many a splendid cavalcade from the rich and important town in the neighbourhood, diversified the scenery during the bright part of the year, and towards the winter-time the beasts of the forest and the field used to resume their dwelling in

the neighbouring woods, and afford sport and diversion to the inhabitants of the castle.

As I have said, that chateau had been for centuries the dwelling-place of my ancestors, ever since, indeed, the arm of Du Guesclin and the wisdom of Charles had expelled the English from the shores of France; but still that chateau was not mine, nor ever likely to be mine; for I was at that time a poor dependant upon the bounty of others, without wealth, rank, station, or fortune of any kind to give hope to my heart or energy to my effort.

The lord of that castle, my poor father's first cousin, had taken me out of compassion to his relation, a poor soldier of fortune, who married thoughtlessly and died young; and as he himself, a lover of pleasure—even of license, at the time he took me into his house, thought only of marriage as a remote evil, he treated me at first with so much kindness, that the foolish persons who surrounded us imagined that a time might come when I should be his heir. Nothing, indeed, was farther from his thoughts. He had always determined, and still held the resolution of wedding ultimately, in the hope of seeing his possessions descend to children of his own.

The accomplishment of this purpose was hastened by accidental circumstances, which placed it in his power to marry a beautiful and wealthy bride, whom he brought home to the chateau in great pomp, and the festivities which followed her arrival are among the first events which I distinctly remember.

Surrounded by friends, and with scarcely a wish ungratified, he might well consider himself a rich and happy man in the possession of one so fair as she was. But beauty was not the only quality which she brought to make him happy, nor riches the only dowry that was settled upon her head. Never did I see any one who combined more graces of person with more fine qualities of the heart; never any one who more merited the love of every one who approached her.

It was evident that she had heard of me before she came, and she greeted me with a warm and kindly smile, which went direct to my heart. She gazed upon me at the same time with a look of deep interest and scrutinizing inquiry, as if she thought to read my character in my face, or to divine what were the feelings with which I met her. Heaven knows that I had no feelings but those of sincere joy. I entertained not the slightest idea that her coming, could have any evil effect upon my fate; that it would in the least change my destiny or affect my happiness. Of course, I was utterly ignorant of such things at that period; the joy that was around me found a ready echo in a heart naturally joyous, and I laughed, and danced, and sang with the rest, more unthinking of the morrow than the bird upon the wing.

If the fair lady of Blancford gazed at me when first she came, my cousin's eyes rested upon me many a time when he saw me so gay and happy. I know not what it was, but it seemed as if my happiness displeased him. I have since learned to know that in the human heart there is often a great difference between remorse and repentance; and that, when we have done a fellow-creature wrong, when we have pained, injured, aggrieved—ay, even when we only entertain the purpose of doing so, we hate that being on account of the very arts for which we should hate ourselves. I do not mean to say that my cousin had injured me by his marriage, for surely he had a right to wed where and when he thought fit. But I am inclined to believe, from facts which I heard afterward, that the first germe of harsh and unkind feelings towards me was produced by a conviction that he had treated me with greater kindness and distinction than he afterward intended to keep up, and that it was his duty to make a provision for me, against which his inclination struggled.

There were other matters, of which I may have to speak hereafter, which increased and perpetuated such feelings. He could not but recollect that, before the death of my father, he had been liberal of promises and generous in words; he had told him that he would breed me up for a soldier; that he would take care that I should have the means of advancing myself; and now, perhaps, his intentions were changed. If they were not, they certainly became so after a short time.

He was, at that period, a gay and gallant man of about five or six-and-thirty years of age, handsome in appearance, specious in manners and words, with no traces of profligate life in his language or appearance, and very well fitted to gain and keep the love of any young heart not thoroughly versed in the ways of mankind. Although his marriage, as most marriages were at that time, had been arranged entirely by the relations of the lady, without any reference to her wishes, yet there is no doubt that she married him with a heart free from other attachments, and even prepossessed in his favour. From such feelings, of course, attachment easily sprung up; and, had he merited it, love, deep, devoted, heartfelt, unchanging love, would indubitably have followed. But alas! he did not deserve it; he took not the means to obtain it; and though the attachment remained, that attachment was mingled with sadness and perhaps with bitterness, and grave melancholy trod fast upon the steps of feasting and merriment.

For my own part, I was of a cheerful and happy disposition, a little fanciful perhaps, and somewhat wild; somewhat fond, occasionally, of solitary wandering and deep thought; but at other periods light and gay as a butterfly. Thus, then, I felt not, scarcely perceived, indeed, that the demeanour of the general servants and retainers of my cousin's house was at all changed towards me; although it was so changed from the very first day of his marriage. But, had it been changed ten times as much; had they treated me with neglect, or scorn, or contemptible malice, the pain would have been more than compensated by the love and tenderness of that sweet lady, and by the constant care she showed me.

She first it was who recollected that, born of noble birth, and connected with many of the great and proud of the land, it was needful that I should hate the common education and accomplishments of the day; and she argued that, if I were poor and penniless as her husband said, and required to make a name and fortune for myself, it was but the more necessary that, by the cultivation of my mind, even in an extraordinary degree, I should be provided with the means of accomplishing the more difficult task that was allotted to me. My strength of body and an eager, active spirit had already rendered me familiar with manly exercises in far greater degree than most youths of my age could boast of. But my mind was totally uncultivated. I could ride wild horses that many a man could not manage; I could fence as well as my little strength allowed me; my aim with the arquebus was true and firm; I know not the time when I could not swim; and my cousin's pages, though considerably older than myself, were unable to compete with me in leaping or pitching the bar. But could neither

write nor read, and knew nothing of books or of the world, but by occasional words which I had heard spoken and treasured up in my memory.

No sooner did she find that this was the case, than she herself became my instructress; and oh how kindly did she teach me, day after day, with unwearied patience; her fingers playing with the curls of my hair, and her eyes often bent thoughtfully upon me, as if she were calculating with some melancholy my future destiny and her own. Perhaps I was stupid, perhaps I was by nature inattentive; but the love, the deep love that I felt towards her, made me exert every energy of my mind to give her pleasure and to make her task easy; and, though the undertaking must have been dull, and my progress slow at first, yet she always seemed well satisfied, and cheered me on with words of bright encouragement.

A time soon came, however, when her instructions became somewhat painful to her; apparently there was a languor in her eyes and in her tone, which seemed to me strange; and, without being told to do so, I spoke in a lower tone of voice, I paid more attention to everything she said, I avoided everything that could disturb or trouble her. It seemed to me that she was ill, and nature taught me how to act under such circumstances.

At length, one day, she said to me, "I must give over teaching you for a time, Henry, but good Monsieur la Tour will take the task till I can follow it again." And she put me under the charge of the minister of our little village, or rather, indeed, of the chateau, a good man as ever lived, who had always shown himself fond of me, and who now followed up, with zeal and kindness, that which she had so kindly and generously begun. The whole family, and every one in the immediate neighbourhood, were, as is well known, of the Reformed religion, and my cousin, the Baron de Blancford, was at that time absent with the Protestant army.

Shortly after, however, he returned, sent for, I believe, to be present at the birth of his first child, and great anxiety manifested itself in the household for several days. Fears were entertained for the safety of the lady, and great precautions taken; but at length I heard that the baroness had given birth to a child, and that she herself was proceeding favourably. With my heart full of joy and satisfaction, I ran to congratulate my cousin, thinking that there could be nothing but similar feelings in his own heart. He pushed me angrily away from him, however, exclaiming, "You fool, it is only a girl!"

Not understanding what he meant, or comprehending in the slightest degree why the birth of a girl should give him less satisfaction than if a son had been born, I ran to the room of Monsieur la Tour, and told him what had happened; and then it was, for the first time, that I was made to understand how great was the difference made by the customs of the world between two classes of beings naturally equal. A vague idea, too, of my own circumstances was also communicated to my mind, and from that time the change which had taken place, and which daily increased, in the deportment of my cousin's servants towards me, was marked, understood, and felt painfully. Two days after the birth of his daughter the baron again left the chateau, but he remained long enough to make me feel most bitterly that I was no longer the boy that he had sported with and loved in former years.

The lady soon recovered, and resumed her care of me without a change. She loved to have me with her; she loved to see me play with her infant; and, as month after month proceeded, the child's affection for me grew stronger and more strong, till there was none but her mother that she loved so well.

About a year and a half afterward a son was born; and then another; and from the birth of the first I found that I was no longer an object of consideration to any one except to the good clergyman, whose affection towards me seemed to increase as that of others diminished, and to the sweet lady, who never for a moment, in her love and care for others, forgot her love and care for me. A change had come over the whole household, however; the lover had long been forgotten in the husband, the husband had been forgotten in the man of pleasure. Whenever any short cessation of hostilities permitted him to visit the capital, it was in Paris that the Lord of Blancford's time was wholly spent, and at other periods his days were passed in the pleasures of other great towns, afar from the family which required his care and direction, and from the wife whose love he had cast away.

On her part, she showed not the slightest inclination to depart from his expressed wish that she would remain at the chateau of Blancford. She loved not great cities; she sought not to indemnify herself for her husband's neglect by following the same evil course in which he led: she enjoyed fully and entirely the pleasures of rural life, and found in the duties of a mother the greatest consolation and delight. Once in the course of the month, perhaps, she visited Bordeaux with the state becoming her rank and station, called upon some of the chief ladies of the city, and returned home after having remained there but a few hours. Very frequently, on these occasions, I accompanied her, and the kindness with which she mentioned me to all who were really good and estimable, seemed to bespeak for me their future protection and regard, although she never even hinted at such an object.

I was her companion almost always in her walks, too; and from her conversation I daily gained information upon subjects with which otherwise, most probably, I should never have been acquainted; for she took a delight in forming and expanding my mind, and, while she endeavoured to instil principles even more than knowledge, she illustrated for me the lessons she gave by facts and examples which often drew her on to farther explanations, and which certainly remained in my memory, storing it with much that was curious, interesting, and beautiful. Thus there was scarcely a circumstance which ever happened to me in after life which did not cause me to recollect some example from her instruction which might teach me to know the right from the wrong, to choose the good from the bad, or to return from the evil, when I had been led into wrong, by the shortest and most expeditious way.

In short, though she often fell into fits of musing, she seldom lost an opportunity of giving my mind improvement. If I fixed upon a wild flower, she told me its nature and its qualities; if I watched a passing cloud, she explained to me how sweet and beneficial to the earth's surface are the light vapours that float gently over it, descending in light rain to render everything fertile and productive; and she would explain to me, as well as she could, what were the beneficial effects produced by winds and storms that seemed to my imagination tremendous, pointing still to the all-powerful hand of Providence, shaping still the events of this world with never-erring wisdom directing never-failing might.

From her conversation, from her train of thought, my mind took the peculiar turn which it ever after retained; and even to the present day, after scenes of peril, and danger, and activity; after having gained, by sad experience, knowledge of the world, and become hackneyed and keen in the wisdom of the earth, many of the words that she spoke to me, many of the counsels that she gave, come back upon my ear in all the fresh sweetness of the tones in which it was originally spoken, and I feel myself better, happier, more contented, when thus dwell with her for a moment in the wide tracts of memory, than I do when fulfilling any of the ordinary duties of my state and station.

What she herself could not do to improve my mind the good priest did; he applied himself to teach me sciences; to read other languages than my own, both dead and living; to argue by rule; to write my native language with accuracy; to calculate arithmetically; and to do all, in short, that he himself could do, which was more, perhaps, than my after fate required. It was some years, of course, ere I gained much facility in everything, but ere four years had passed after my cousin's marriage I had become quite a different being. The formidable obstacles that await us at the entrance of every science had given way, and during the following year, which was the fourteenth of my age, I made greater progress than I had done in any other. I had now acquired a taste for the poetry which had descended to us from other days; and from that high and ennobling source I drank long, deep draughts of pure and unmingled delight. I found, too, that there were works of infinite value, full of fancy and of wit, full of instruction and amusement, in other languages besides either French, or Greek, or

Latin; and, almost unaided—for my good preceptor knew little of that tongue himself—I made myself a tolerable master of the Italian language, and felt like one who has suddenly discovered a treasure when the works of Dante and Boccaccio, and the newer poems of Tasso, fell into my hands.

Nevertheless, I did not in any degree neglect the usual exercises of which I had formerly been fond. There were always a number of old military retainers about the house, who were willing and eager to teach me everything that could be taught in the profession to which they had devoted themselves. I did not, it is true, follow any study with great regularity, but I followed all and each with eagerness, and zeal, and devotion.