IRLF 35D EXCHANGE THE BV LLIOM DEL VALCHIUSA. BOSTON: MARSH, CAPEN, LYON, & WEBB 1840. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1840, by GEORGE F. MAN, in the Clerk s Office, of the District Court of Rhode Islund, - -, TORREY AND BLAIR, PRINTERS, No. 11 Devonshire street, Boston. THE GERANIUM LEAF. " So che spesso tra i fiori e le fronde Pur la serpe s asconde, s aggfira ; So che in aria talvolta s ammira, Una stella che stella mm c." SOME years ago, whilst detained on the continent, where I had stopt to arrange some affairs on my way to England after a long and weary absence, I accidentally fell into the company of a gentleman, whose unquiet and sharp physiognomy, so distin guishable from the gravity and amplitude of the English countenance, declared him to be one, who, though speaking the Eng lish language, had been born and bred under the fervent heat of the great Ameri can democracy. Though past the meri dian of life, and laboring under the ills of an impaired constitution, he was clever. i* 96 1 897 THE GERANIUM LEAF. companionable and polite ; and, excepting when the topic of conversation involved in some measure the character of his nation, which he considered the greatest that then was, ever had been, or ever would be again, I may add, exceedingly liberal. But, notwithstanding these and other qualities which he possessed, of a nature to invite social fellowship, a community of fate or fortune, rather than a similitude of character or profession, drew us into rela tions of greater communicativeness, than, considering my preconceived notions of the American people, would have otherwise probably been formed; both of us being bachelors, both being severely afflicted with the liver complaint, which he had contracted in the West, and I, in the East, Indies, in which countries we had severally made our fortunes at the hazard of our lives, and at the expense of our health, and, prob ably, alike for the benefit of some distant relative. Be this as it may, after a mutual inter- THE GERANIUM LEAF. f change of ideas and information on va rious subjects of general interest, and I had recounted some of my own adventures, chiefly illustrative of the singular coinci dences, strange combinations of circum stances, or odd positions, I had experienced in travelling, he began gradually to unfold some of his own individual experience. I say gradually; for all the Americans, with whom I have ever met, have so much of the sagacity of an animal of another quarter of the globe, as never to plant their feet in a strange place, till they have fully recon- noitered or partially tested the nature of the premises. At last, one evening, after I had con cluded an adventure of my own, he be gan and recounted, with evident emotion, the following passages of his life. At this distance of time, I should in vain attempt to recall his precise language without the aid of my journal, but the substance of what he communicated, and the impression it produced on me, time will never efface 8 THE GERANIUM LEAP. from my memory. Being near the scene of the denouement of the story, he very nat urally began where I shall leave off. With this transposition of the order, and occa sionally some unavoidable variation of lan guage, I shall barely repeat his narration. I have already informed you, said he, that I was born in one of the middle States, studied medicine, pursued my pro fession for many years in the West Indies, and I am now travelling, rather with a view to alleviate the tedium of sickness, than with any expectation of regaining the blessings of health. My immediate rela tives are dead. My father was a mer chant, and I was one of two sons. After having been initiated in the elementary branches of education, and become more than ordinarily well versed in the classics, a favorite study, I was sent to a university, in New England, which was thought at that time to present the greatest facilities for the acquisition of a liberal education. There I became intimate with a fellow- THE GERANIUM LEAF. 9 student and classmate from the southern country. Nature had showered upon him her choicest gifts, a fond and seemingly highly-intelligent father had improved upon her bounty by the most assiduous attention to his intellectual, moral, and physical edu cation ; and an enthusiastic love of excel lence, together with an untiring eagerness to respond to the proud expectations or to requite the noble endeavors of his father, to whom he was devotedly attached, seconded the purposes of both. In person, he was tall and slender, yet athletic. His hair, which was light, fine, and glossy, was parted in the midst and thrown hack, displayed a high and ample forehead and fell in grace ful ringlets over his temples. His eyes, full and expressive, were soft blue, his features Grecian, complexion pale, and the expres sion of his countenance intelligent and mas culine in the highest degree. His distin guishing characteristics were an astonishing warm imagination and a sensibility of such 10 THE GERANIUM LEAF. acuteness as is rarely found even in the in- firmer sex. Though very young, the grace and ease of his manners, the dignity of his deportment, the elevation of his sentiments, the extent and accuracy of his knowledge, and the correctness and delicacy of his taste, evinced a maturity of character greatly in advance of his years, and of all his com panions ; and so apparent were his pre-em inent endowments, that he no sooner pre sented himself in any new field of col legiate competition, than like the uncased champion of the ring, lie was already crowned in the prophetic anticipations of all. This supremacy was the less reluc tantly accorded to him, as the good will and admiration inspired hy his modesty and exemption from all emulous feeling as regarded others, disarmed in advance, or rather stifled in its hirth, the hostility that might otherwise have been provoked by his genius. For, though capable of excelling, THE GERANIUM LEAF. 11 he had no ambition, and if he excelled, it seemed incidental to his love of excellence, or done with a view to gratify those he loved and who were interested in his wel fare. Though not austere, he was indiffer ent to what is ordinarily called pleasure, and, if one might judge from his disinterest edness and superiority to all selfish consid erations, naturally as careless of wealth. As a love of whatever is beautiful in the works of Nature and Art subserved the pur pose of a moral sense, by inspiring him with a distaste for all vicious indulgence, while withdrawing him from the converse of his fellow-students and the realities of life, into a world peopled by the creations of his own fancy, it subjected him, with some, to the imputation of misanthropy ; so an exalted sympathy, which, lifting him at once from an admiration of creation to an adoration of its Author, led him to think lightly of the factitious systems of faith, attracted to him the repro ach of irreligion. By some, too, he was thought too ready to stake all for a 12 THE GERANIUM LEAF. little, for, though insensible to applause, he was extremely sensitive in points of honor, and was, perhaps, the more impatient of wrong, as studiously avoiding to inflict it upon others, arid deriving from himself and a small circle of friends the chief sources of his happiness, he felt entitled to an ex emption from the contributions ordinarily- levied upon forbearance by the unthinking or evil minded. Though cheerful, gay, and even witty in his unavoidable intercourse with fellow- students, he was naturally of a melancholy and retired disposition, fond of solitude and intimate with only myself, and another gen tleman from the same section of country as himself; and even from us studiously con cealed all knowledge of the solitary occupa tions with which he was ever busied apart from his collegiate studies, as though intent, like some ingenuous youth upon feeding his fancy with the growth of some beautiful bubble which he hoped to make radiant with every ravishing hue, and whose ex- THE GERANIUM LEAF. 13 panding fragility he feared to expose, even to the breath of friendship. His greatest social delight was in unbosoming his feel ings to me and his other friend, in convers ing of his father and a lady at the south, with both of whom he maintained the most constant correspondence. Speaking of this lady, on one occasion, said he, " There is ever about her a kind of holy calm which neither solicits nor repels, but, inspiring the beholder with a sympa thetic harmony, fixes his gaze and insensi bly attracts him, until the source of his emotions becomes the object of his desires." These were his continual theme, and were at times alone capable of preventing his re lapse into a profound melancholy, almost habitual to him when withdrawn from the observation of others. Such were the appearance, mind, charac ter, and habits of my friend and, as might have been expected, he finished his col legiate career, admired for his talents, es teemed for his exemplary conduct, little un- 2 14 THE GERANIUM LEAF. derstood by the many, fondly beloved by the few. Still from the confluence of so many sep arately admirable endowments, there re sulted a whole, fearfully dangerous to its possessor; something that would infalli bly attract temptation, and something that might possibly betray to temptation, when it came seemingly disrobed of all its evil, by losing all its grossness. Our collegiate career finished, my friend and the other gentleman from the same sec tion of country, resolved to repair to a Law school not far removed from the University, for the purpose of studying the profession they had adopted. For myself, I was unde termined what profession to pursue, but re calling to mind a saying of Dr. Moore, in his travels, that no particular cast of mind was requisite to excel in the medical, I at last concluded that I was most fitted to excel in that, and accordingly followed my friend; presuming that a village which taught law would contain somebody capa- THE GERANIUM LEAF. 15 ble of assisting me in the study of medi cine. Here we passed the Autumn and Winter, without the occurrence of any remarkable incident. The habits of my friend re mained the same. He lived devoted to his professional and literary pursuits and to myself and his other friend ; avoided, as far as possible, the society of his fellow students, and withstood every gentle art of the fair, to whose charms he was peculiarly suscep tible, to win him to a participation in their pleasures, in the chivalrous idea of being entirely dedicated to his beloved. At last, came Spring, with her train of pleasing sym phonies, bright scenes and balmy odours, arid my friend and I, responsive to her call, threw down our toil, and joined her dance by every brook, through every vale, and over every mountain top. On one of these excursions, which we extended far beyond our ordinary limits, in a sequestered spot, embosomed in a valley, surrounded by fruit trees and empaled by 16 THE GERANIUM LEAF. a quickset hedge, we camesuddenly upon a beautiful cottage. Parallel rows of sugar-maple trees shaded a spacious and extensive walk, which led from the gate to the portico, and a rich variety of flowers and shrubs, some little jets d eau, statues cast of plaster of Paris, in a recumbent attitude on the ver dant banks, indicated the abode of retired opulence and taste. But what remove can we make to free us from the intrusion of human passions or human ills ? My friend was delighted, and having surveyed it as leisurely as circumstances would permit, we concluded to come again ; and again and regularly at the close of the week, our rambles terminated in this de lightful spot. Till at last, on a lovely day in the latter part of June, having become emboldened by meeting no one, we fol lowed up the footpath, and were insensibly attracted to an open window by a display of beautiful flowers. Whilst intent upon admiring these, a THE GERANIUM LEAF. 17 chubbed little girl straining her tiny arm over the casement of the window, tendered my friend a leaf of geranium. My friend, though a student, was not inapt at offices of gallantry, and stepping forward took the proffered gift with great sweetness and grace, saying in an audible arid arch tone, partly to himself, and partly for whoever might hear, " What ! so young, and yet prefer ! " Immediately, a lady appeared, as in the act of passing the window. She suddenly stopped, with affected surprise, and with an air of as affected innocence, slightly bowed, and advancing to the window, invited us to come in and refresh ourselves. The attractions of a line form and com manding stature, assisted by the effect of black, hair, arch black eyes, rosy cheeks, and a simple and elegant attire, unexpect edly breaking from amidst such an assem blage of delights, were quite overpowering. She was of an age to have become ac quainted with the world, and through a 2* 18 THE GERANIUM LEAF. veil of assumed silvan artlessness, there peered in beautiful relief an air only to be acquired by an habitual familiarity with the most polished modes of life. Her prof fered invitation being declined, after some natural and easy remarks, she slid into a conversation more particularly addressed to my friend, which, increasing in gayety on her part, finally relapsed into " that sportive colloquy, (to use the words of your countryman, Dr. Gillies, in his late travels in Italy,) which touching slightly upon what is felt most sensibly, amuses with perpetual shadows of desired real ities." Apprehensive of the consequences of a more prolonged interview, I seized the earliest opportunity to induce my friend to withdraw, which we finally did in the midst of a most tenderly expressed hope of the siren, that accident might again con duct us to her bowers. The effect upon my friend alarmed me, for I was aware of his susceptibility, and knew, that he was THE GERANIUM LEAF. 19 already betrothed. I remonstrated with him upon the necessity of never revisiting the spot, and I did not relax my efforts till I drew from him a promise to adopt my advice. Spring, Summer, Autumn, flew away, and Winter came, the harvest-time of Spring s follies, when my friend was plunged in the deepest distress. He in formed me, that his southern friend, to whom he had mentioned the adventure, had, after great persuasion, prevailed upon him to break his promise, and gratify the curiosity of a friend ; that he had visited the lady, who, though apprized of his en gagement, courted and even solicited his society, and that the consequences were as one might imagine from his distress. His first impulse was to marry the lady whom he thought he had wronged. I dissuaded him from it. His next to shoot his friend who had badly counselled him and seduced his weakness. From this I also dissuaded him, and prevailed upon him to 20 THE GERANIUM LEAF. accept my offices in endeavouring to rescue him from his embarrassment. For this pur pose, I privately repaired to the cottage. Winter was in the midst of his iron rule. Over every thing lately so verdant and smiling was thrown one cold mantle of snow. Nature seemed extinct. No fra grance rose from her frozen altars, and her musical interpreters had fled. The cottage stood silent and looked desolate. Upon knocking, an old domestic informed me, that, excepting the proprietor and his niece, (for such was the lady before alluded to,) the family had returned to a city in a neighboring State. Upon requesting to see the gentleman, I was ushered into a parlour where sat a fine looking, elderly person whom it is not necessary to describe more particularly ; his head supported by his hand, and his eyes downcast and seemingly fixed in deep and sorrowful meditation. Upon present ing myself, he rose up and drew his aged but tall figure into an crectness peculiarly THE GERANIUM LEAF. 21 imposing ; and as I advanced, slightly in clining from his state, he presented his hand with great suavity of manner, yet with the air of one familiar with high station and military command. After a suitable pause, I introduced myself, and the purpose of my visit with all possible delicacy and respect. In a long and painful conversation, I re counted the circumstances of my coming to the cottage, described the character and situation of my friend, and showed the impossibility of his marrying his niece. Language cannot describe his distressed appearance, and the audible sobbing of a fe male in an adjoining apartment heightened the melancholy of the scene. Our interview resulted in the expression of a wish to see my friend. For his niece had never been prevailed upon to disclose his name, and their interviews had been stolen, or during his absence. I afterwards accompanied my friend to see him and passed the day at the cottage. 22 THE GERANIUM LEAF. Never did my friend appear so interest ing : young, fine looking, distressed, yet highly-excited, after he had, in his own eloquent language, recounted what I had faintly set forth before, when he spoke of his family, of his immutable attachment for his betrothed, the accidental meeting of the gentleman s niece, of his resolution to see her no more, of the ascendency of his friend s persuasion over his better purpose ; of the anguish he had suffered from sympathy for the injured ; the venerable gentleman was so affected as to be almost overcome, and the more so, perhaps, as, throughout, my friend displayed a natural nobleness of character which evidently prepossessed our host strongly in his favor, the moment I had introduced him, and made not the slightest allusion to the imprudent conduct of his niece or to her insinuating appeals after she was apprized of my friend s situation, and had every reason to believe, that her .advances could not eventuate in any hon- THE GERANIUM LEAF. 23 orable issue ; of all which circumstances, I had felt it my duty previously to acquaint her protector. At this interview, nothing was definitive ly settled ; and another visit was solicited and agreed upon. On which occasion, I found his sympathies strongly inclining to the side of my friend, and a disposition to condemn the conduct of his niece. But it was not until I had insisted at some length upon the impolicy of giving publicity to the affair, and had intimated the possession of evidence through the knowledge of my friend s companion, the disclosure of which would as little redound to the credit of his niece, as a public knowledge of the affair would to the honor of her family, that the difficulty was finally adjusted by his agree ing to train up the child, until, having be come large, its history might awaken cu riosity and inquiry, when my friend sol emnly promised to remove and educate it. My friend offered an obligation to this ef fect ; but the gentleman, who seemed now 24 THE GERANIUM LEAF. to give way to the feelings which his duty to his niece had obliged him during the pendency of the treaty with difficulty to endeavor to suppress, with tears in his eyes declined it. And as we were about to leave, pressing his hand upon the shoulder of my friend, said he, with great solemnity, " My son, though now advanced, I am well versed in men, for I have spent the morn ing of life with the dead, its noon with the living, and a portion of its close with my self. Your youth and peculiar character, which involved you in this trouble, interested me in your deliverance, for rest assured, that no prudential considerations alone would divert me from exacting ample atone ment for the purposed, or even accidental (unless under peculiar circumstances) in jury or dishonor of any member of my household. You come, too, from the south, in whose defence I have wasted no little of my health ; where I have many friends and acquaintances ; and if I might judge from your name, appearance, and other circum- THE GERANIUM LEAF. 25 stances, you must be nearly related to him whose influence with the British govern ment I was lately commissioned to solicit in relation to the evacuation of the western posts ; nor should I be surprised to learn, that at the very time I was partaking of the hospitality of his roof you were invading the sanctity of mine. Do not however im agine, that your noble-minded father or his highly-accomplished lady will ever be ap prized by me of the great imprudence of their fondly-cherished son. And as a far ther evidence of my interest in, and friend ship for you, let me counsel you to beware of gilded temptation, quick resolve, and sud den action. I know you well. You have that within and about you, you little dream of. In a world, like yourself, it would con duct you to happiness through the path of virtue, but in the one I have lived in, and you are soon to mingle in, it will betray you, without extreme vigilance, into strange calamity." We had intended to have completed the 3 26 THE GERANIUM LEAF. two years, but a few months after this oc currence, intelligence of the dangerous ill ness of my father in Canada, obliging me to leave, we all concluded to depart together. As our course lay in different directions, my friend and I were compelled to take our leave there. It was June, the latter part, and the evening preceding the morning of our contemplated departure, threading our way through the urchins on the village green, we repaired, for greater retirement, to an elevated spot, on the outskirts, em balmed in our hearts by the memory of many a holy hour. His brilliant career finished, the weary sun had made a golden set, and, arbitress in turn, the queen of love, beckoned her starry train up into the blue firmament ; until the moon, empress of all, uprising slow, in full orbed majesty, threw the unbroken splendour of her coming over hill, valley, and lake. To a reflecting mind, there is always something melan choly under circumstances like these ; for, amidst all the confused delights of Spring,, THE GERANIUM LEAF. 27 like the mariner who has reached a lovely clime after a long and wasting voyage, we instinctively look back and call to mind those of our companions, who, less fortu nate than ourselves, are no longer with us to share our pleasure ; or, as this season in the northern latitudes of America, like woman in those climes, is as lovely as it is evanescent, we look forward and draw from the abode of no distant future, images of blight, decay, and death. But these and similar reflections were soon supplanted by those of a more personal and therefore more absorbing a character. Six years had nearly elapsed since we had become bosom friends, and one year had passed since the adventure at the cot tage. We had met, for ought I knew, for the last time ; and a kind of presentiment of ill, whether caused by the recollection of past occurrences, or by too clear a per ception of the dangerous infirmities of my friend, I know not, seized upon my heart, For, though greatly his inferior 28 THE GERANIUM LEAF. in high endowments, perhaps the very me diocrity of my character enabled me to see, that he possessed some lines of character fearful as uncommon ; arid since our cot tage adventure, I could discover the de- velopement of a more intractable spirit, and a kind of aversion and hostility to man kind. Add to this, he was now making his transit from youth to manhood, when the winds are unchained, and there is no Ulys ses at the helm ! a moment of crisis with all, but with him more terrible from the un certain effects upon his future conduct of a rankling remembrance of his bitter fore taste of the world ; and as the hoarse swell of the ocean precedes afar off the coming of the tempest, so the murmur of his nascent passions, continually gathering fierceness and strength, appeared to herald the ap proach of danger, and portend a stormy revolution in his character. The affair at the cottage I had never been able to banish from his mind, and the idea of returning home with his south- THE GERANIUM LEAF. 29 em friend tortured and terrified him. His first thought of killing him, or as he expressed himself, of taking off and rid ding himself of a base nature whom the mistaken bounty of his father had sent to the North with him as a companion and guide to his own greater youth and inexperience, but who had been, as he be lieved, designedly the cause of his degra dation to dishonor, and, as he feared, would be the instrument of his betrayal to re proach, was constantly recurring. For weeks previous, his mind had been uncom monly dark, his spirits incessantly agitated, and his transports of passion sudden, fre quent, and frightful. A word or look from his fellow-students, whose attention his dis ordered manner attracted, had been suffi cient matter for collision, and I had feared that every sun would have lit him to the commission of some fatal act. Even his southern friend entertained apprehensions for his own personal safety, and had ap prized me of his secret intention to separate 3* 30 THE GERANIUM LEAF. from him on the journey, at the earliest op portunity. I had frequently expostulated with my friend, but the voice which could once ren der him docile, was powerless. He had become the lion in his fever, he knew not his keeper, he would not he governed. Still I dwelt upon the past in as soothing a tone, and pictured the future in as bright and as animating colors, as the time, place, and oc casion would permit. And we sat until every sound of jocund merriment was hushed in the village, light after light had disappeared, its pleasure- tired inhabitants had sunk to repose in visions of a beaute ous morn, and all was quiet, save the little querulous rivulet pursuing its devious path way to the lake at our feet, and the distant waterfall sending, as in sympathy of Na ture, its plaint on the gusty night-breeze to the sighing forest. We separated, at a late hour, to make our final preparations for our morning de parture, under a mutual promise to coores- THE GERANIUM LEAF. 31 pond with each other, and a promise, on my part, to visit him at no distant day, should fortune permit. The death of my father, which happen ed before I reached him, and the charge of his embarrassed and widely-separated af fairs, which devolved upon me as eldest son, soon obliging me to fulfil but imper fectly my first promise, and finally com pelling its entire abandonment, all corres pondence ceased. And it was not until four or five years had been devoted to per plexing business, and at the end of this period as a requital of my pains, I had the satisfaction of being fully assured, that I was dependent upon my own exertions, and that, like many others, I was obliged to employ for my support that professional knowledge, I had originally acquired as a liberal accomplishment, and I had resolved to remove to the West Indies, that I thought, by stopping at the South, of doing myself the pleasure to visit my friend, and to make some amends for the neglect of my 32 THE GERANIUM LEAF. first promise, by affording him the agreea ble surprise of an unexpected fulfilment of the second. It was now Spring again ; but no longer Spring with me. Life had begun to as sume a more sober aspect. The period of anticipated enjoyment and independence, had proved the commencement of solicitude and labor. Uncertainty gathered in thick darkness upon the future, and the world once reflecting every gorgeous hue from the gay frostwork in which young fancy had wrapt it, now stood before me, like the charred remains of some beautiful fabric, formerly dedicated to bright illusions, now deserted of its brilliant throng of worship pers, and disrobed by the flaming brand of all its enchanting pageantry and pleasure s cunningly-devised appliances. Still as we bounded over the waves, and the tender memories of life s early morn passed in re view before me, every fountain of youthful feeling was, for the moment, unsealed, and so abstracted did I become from all that THE GERANIUM LEAF. 33 was passing around me, and so absorbed in the delightful idea of seeing one I so ten derly loved, that the thought, natural arid obvious as it was, never occurred to me, that some one among my fellow-passengers might be able to inform me respecting my friend. Indeed, had I thought of it, I know not but the desire of some indefinitely-con ceived agreeable surprise would have de terred me from making the inquiry ; for as to fear, every movement was stilled by the intensity of hope. Upon arriving at the city of , I eagerly, but in vain, sought amidst every group the familiar countenance of my friend. Upon inquiry, I found, that, soon after his return from the North, he entered upon his profession under the brightest auspices ; was rising rapidly when he be came engaged in an important suit of pub lic interest, that some collision ensued be tween him and the adverse counsel, who chanced to be his friend before spoken of, Miat straightway transpired some unknown 34 THE GERANIUM LEAF. secret in the family of the lad y whose mar riage with my friend (deferred till now in consequence of her delicate health) was about to be solemnized; that my friend suddenly disappeared, leaving no trace be hind him; and that the brother of my friend had challenged and shot the southern gentleman before alluded to. The latter, as I learned, was the son of a refugee tory. The confiscation of his paternal estate, had, unfortunately, still left him in possession of the peculiar vir tues of that class of revolutionary worthies. He had been educated by the father of my friend, partly from charity and partly in the hope, that, being much older, his sup posed maturer judgement would qualify him to subserve the purpose of a guardian or protector to his son. Only such considera tions, or an extraordinary love of antithesis, could have ever suggested to a reasonable man the idea of selecting such a compan ion for my friend. I was also informed, that mv friend was of THE GERANIUM LEAF. 35 an old English family of great respectability, Which settled at the South after the separa tion of the colonies, and at the commence ment of the crusade against nobility in Europe ; and that he and the lady of his choice were alike universally admired, be loved, and esteemed. To all but the gen tleman shot, whose memory was recalled with a kind of suspicious horror, there was but one deep feeling of regret, sympathy, and respect ; and a disposition, by their si lence, to consign the melancholy affair to oblivion. The public delicacy in this res pect was strongly contrasted with the vul gar curiosity and gossip natural to some communities on similar occasions. Noth ing was ventured beyond a conjecture, that the difficulty originated in some unknown occurrence at the North, perhaps not in unison with the general character of my friend, that his extreme sensitiveness, upon its probable betrayal and exaggeration or misrepresentation by his rival, had shrunk from the consequences of its disclosure, and 36 THE GERANIUM LEAF. sheltered itself in flight. Further, they sought not to learn, as if apprehensive of confirming their surmises by the discovery of something, they knew not what, dis tressing to a family they honored, and in jurious to the fair fame of one they loved. " Twas all they knew, that Lara vras not there." I had not the heart to make myself known as his friend, and immediately em barked for the West Indies. I remained there about twenty-five years. I then re turned to the States, learned that my friend had never been heard from, and that all im mediately interested in the painful tragedy had been swept away by the yellow fever a few years after my departure. Time and absence having broken up my associations, and made me a stranger in my native land, for the young had forgotten me, and the old had died, I concluded to travel for my health and amusement. I visited London and afterwards Paris, and there fell in with THE GERANIUM LEAF. 37 some officers of your navy, on furlough, whom I had seen in the West Indies. I travelled through France, thence into Swit zerland. While at Zurich, I visited the arsenal to see the bow of William Tell, and there, to my surprise, I met the English of ficers I had seen at Paris, who cordially introduced me to their company as their American friend. Among my new acquaintances was a young officer, apparently of the rank of eleve or midshipman, who seemed to re gard me with a closeness I could not elude, and the expression of whose countenance inspired me with feelings I could not fully define. I concluded, finally, that he scru tinized me, because I was an American, and that I was attracted to him, because he scrutinized me. On a visit which I afterwards made to see the ruins of Caesar s wall, which ex tended from Mont Jura to the banks of lake Leman, we all met again. At this meeting the young officer spared no pains to make 4 38 THE GERANIUM LEAF. my acquaintance, nor attentions to concili-* ate my regard ; and, upon parting, repeating his previous invitation, made me promise to visit him when I came to Geneva, where he had a temporary residence. He was apparently between twenty and thirty years of age, tall and slender. His soft light hair, light blue eyes, pale cheeks, and an expansive brow shaded with thought and premature sadness, strangely contrasted with a spirited voice and a peculiarly proud carriage. At Geneva, I fulfilled my promise. He was living at a retired cottage looking down upon the beautiful lake of that name, and in the rear surrounded with precipices cov ered with vines. His absence from the apartment, into which I was shown, en abled me to observe what resources it con tained for the gratification of a refined, simple, or luxurious taste. The first ob jects which presented themselves, upon pressing open the door which stood ajar, were two large snow white hounds, which THE GERANIUM LEAF. 39 lay side by side, stretched out upon their very chins, and, upon my entering, appear ed to intimate a sense of their and my wor thiness of the society of their master, by an upward cast of the eye without change of position, and two or three thrashing obei sances with their tails. Farther on, in the centre of the room, which was of middling dimensions, and whose walls and floor were tastefully covered, stood a circular table, over which was smoothly spread an ample rich blue broadcloth cloak, with purple facings, and supporting, on one side, a guitar, flute, and pieces of music ; on the other, materi als for writing and drawing, with proofs of skill in each art, in the form of sketches of scenery and scraps of poetry ; and in the centre a vase of new-gathered flowers, beautifully various in hue and fragrance. Upon the mantelpiece was a portable book case, containing the choicest poets, ancient and modern, in their original tongues, and on the opposite side of the room were sus pended, in osier cages, two birds of Paradise. 40 THE GERANIUM LEAF. Under them stood a sofa, between two win dows which looked down over a garden of singular beauty upon the lake of Geneva. Upon the sofa lay various treatises, maps, and drawings, illustrative of the art of war. The two extremities of the room were adorned with paintings and busts. The young officer, in search of whom the cottage boy had been dispatched, enter ed at last, with gun, spaniel, game, and wild flowers, and clad in the Swiss cos tume. The conversation which ensued, was of the most interesting character. He spoke of the countries he had been visiting on the continent, the distinguished person ages he had met, the works of art he had seen, and withal evinced such an acquaint ance with the present and past, such a knowledge of books and of the world, such powers of reflection, closeness of observa tion, nice discernment and acute penetration, such sympathy for all that is beautiful in nature, such enthusiasm for all that is no ble in art and character, that I felt at first THE GERANIUM LEAF. 41 astonished, and then embarrassed in the thought that I had so greatly underrated him, even in the flattering estimate I had previously formed of him from our pre ceding interviews, and that one of so great penetration must have discovered what could not but have been extremely pain ful to a person possessed of his sensibility and lofty pride. His inquiries respecting America were more minute and extensive than my long absence from my native coun try permitted me to satisfy; and I was glad of an opportunity, presented by the first re mission of his curiosity, to request him to take his guitar, which he did, and, accom panying it with his voice, played and sang in the most ravishing manner. The music and words were his own composition, and mostly in praise of beautiful Italy. His paintings, being chiefly delineations of the striking scenes he had witnessed in differ ent countries, were worthy of his music. After admiring them a long time, I rose and directed my attention to his library. 4* 42 THE GERANIUM LEAF. Upon the frontispiece of several works my eye was arrested by seemingly a device rep resenting a delicate hand, tendering a Gera nium Leaf, with an asp entwining the stem, executed with great fineness, and encircled by a boquet of flowers, and beneath were the following words. " So che spesso tra i fiori e le fronde Pur la serpe s asconde, s aggira; So che in aria talvolta s ammira, Una stella che stella non e." Upon inquiring its meaning, my friend carelessly replied, " a mere fancy of my father. But," added he, " the words are from Metastasio s Temistocle, and sig nify, that often the serpent nestles amidst leaves and flowers, and that we sometimes admire in the air a star which is not a star." " And the name of your father," said I, " with your permission ? " " Is that you see there," said he. It was a name I had never seen before, but I remembered he had asked me, if I had THE GERANIUM LEAF. 43 ever met such a family name in America. Turning over the leaves, I found initials imperfectly erased which corresponded to the name of my college friend. On the same page, in other works, the same ap peared. In the eagerness of the moment, I turned round and regarded him with an intensity of scrutiny, which was met with only an expression of surprise, an expres sion, however, whose mysterious familiar ity, as well as others that I had witnessed in his countenance, only increased my cu riosity, and under the new direction of my mind, for the first time, awakened sus picion. After some moments, recovering myself, and sitting down with as much composure as possible, and with the air of one who had exhausted all that was curious in his library, "Well," said I, "as I have told you all about America, pray now give me some account of England." " Why, really," he replied, " I know much less about England than you may 44 THE GERANIUM LEAF. suppose. For though a pillar of her float ing bulwark," said he, smiling, " I was brought, up in Italy, and as far as I could ever learn, am American born." " Ah ! " said I, with surprise. "Please explain." " I know little about it," he rejoined. " I can only remember of being led up and down the banks of a beautiful river, of having been removed, and of looking out upon a frightful expanse of water, and of finally being set down in a lovely country, where I was brought up by my father, who devoted all his care to my education, until I began to enter upon manhood, when, as I understood, through the influence of some connections in England whom I never saw, I received, after some little stay in England, a commission in the British navy, where I now am. From my father I could never learn more than that he came from one of the southern provinces of the States ; that his family was very respectable, but that all its members, together with my mother, THE GERANIUM LEAF. 45 I presume, having been swept away by some epidemic, he removed to Italy, to es cape from scenes, which continually forcing upon him by their presence, the memory of his domestic calamities, preyed upon his health. His family was a subject he never alluded to voluntarily, and when pressed upon him, he turned from it with evident aversion and pain. Great as my curiosity became with increasing years, my regard for the feelings of one I adored, and, upon farther acquaintance with mankind, I be lieve with reason, was still greater. I have always sought information from your coun trymen, but without success." " Have the goodness," said I, " to de scribe your father." " My father," said he, with emotion, "no longer lives. He fell, soon after I obtained my commission, in an affair of honor, and left me alone in the world, with little more than the memory of his virtues. For al though after I left him I always received liberal remittances from England, and since 46 THE GERANIUM LEAF. his death those remittances have been in creased, I know not from whom they come, nor how long they will be continued." Upon repeating my request, he described the appearance, character, and mode of life of his father at great length. And as I could not conceal my emotion while he pro ceeded, so when he closed I was entirely overcome ; for his father was my friend, my long-lost friend, my bosom friend in hap pier days ; the days of my youth now van ished ! He, self-exiled, long-separated, and afar from those he loved, unseen by those who loved him, lured by a false star, had fal len, untimely fallen, forever; life s fitful fe ver ending ; his gorgeous day-spring closing at last in darkness ! And before me, me, now, alas ! in the solemn walk of nature how changed, since last I saw him, (saw him never to see again,) and conscious of still rapidly changing, soon to be sent away my self, there stood after the lapse of almost thirty years, in a strange country, among a strange people, as it were by a miracle, THE GERANIUM LEAF. 47 and as if in a dream, in all the glory of a magnificently-endowed nature bursting into the full bloom of manhood s prime -his or phan son ! whom I had never seen till now, and whose fate till now I had never known ; the bright offspring and melancholy ac cident of a lovely Spring day s chance ad venture in the merry morn of our lives ; the unconscious source of so much calamity and sorrow ! Torn in tender infancy from the mother who should have cherished him, transplanted from the skies he should have loved, the land he should have honored, to another hemisphere, and consigned to a foreign service ; fatherless and alone amidst a world of men, without the slightest clew to his being, or the responsive sympathy of one solitary kindred bosom ! When he had finished, regarding me steadfastly, after a short pause, said he, in a deep low voice, " Sir, you knew my father, and know my history. Tell it to me." The abruptness of the appeal only in- 48 THE GERANIUM LEAF. creased my agitation, and fixed me in pro found silence. I could not but think, how slight a partition separated him from what he so intensely sought to know, and what might be the consequences of the disclosure of such a secret to such a person. These were but momentary reflections, for I was determined not to reveal that which his father, my friend, had always thought proper to conceal. Accordingly recovering myself as well as I could, after a silence which became continually more embarras sing, I said, in reply, "The interest with which your personal history has inspired me, may have betrayed me into an ex pression of sympathy calculated to fill you with surmises as natural as they are er roneous, and, to satisfy you, that my inter est in you is so great, I am willing to be stow upon you a part of a fortune which is greater than I have any need of, and to in herit which I have no immediate relatives. This was said with emphasis and deliber ation. THE GERANIUM LEAF. 49 For the moment, he remained motionless and silent, but showed by his countenance, that he did not believe a part of what I said, but, to relieve me/rom embarrassment, wished to appear to credit me ; that he be lieved my motives honorable for concealing the truth ; and was deeply hurt by a sus picion that it was of a nature that it could not be disclosed, and that he was sensibly affected by my proposition. All this, and more, I read in his countenance, before his reply, which was simply a refusal of my proffered bounty in the most grateful and touching manner. Not wishing to remain longer, I reminded him of the unexpectedly protracted length of my visit, of the pressure of other claims on my time, thanked him for the pleasure he had afforded me, and expressing a hope that we should meet again, I rose to retire ; when he removed a gold ring from his rin ger and put it on mine, saying, it was one given him by his father, and the initials upon which, said he, in a melancholy and 5 50 THE GERANIUM LEAF. half reproachful tone, " you may better understand than myself." Then going to his library, he drew out from a number of papers a document or letter, and saying it was given him by his father, that he had long sought among Americans the person to whom it was addressed, presented it to me, merely adding, "you are Mr. of Penn sylvania." To which I replied in the af firmative. We then took our final adieu, he seem ing disappointed, hurt, and melancholy. This ring I still wear, said the Amer ican, presenting his hand, and the letters are the initials of the name of the mother of the young officer. The letter, which I opened and read as soon as I reached a place suitably retired, and removed several envelopes, was writ ten in a round Italian hand, and be gan with stating, that, in despair of com municating with me in any other way, af ter many fruitless attempts, he had select ed that particular mode, as a last and THE GERANIUM LEAF. 51 doubtful resource. Then followed a glow ing panegyric upon his son, an admonition to beware of his adroitness, and a most sol emn injunction not to disclose to him his history under any consideration ; for, that having inherited some of his father s infirm ities, it would but cast a still deeper shade over his mind, if it did not lead to more fatal consequences. The letter then proceeded to state, in addition to the par ticulars I had already learnt in America, and those which his son had communicated to me, that, upon arriving at the North, he found the mother of his son commodiously situated on the banks of a river named af ter one of the New England States, living by herself, with her son, neglected, so far as regarded open intercourse, by all her family, excepting her uncle, who had ever repro bated the conduct of the family in this res pect, and so changed by grief as to be hardly recognized ; that her cheeks, once so bright, were pale and wasted ; her once sparkling eye faded ; her raven locks yielding to the 52 THE GERANIUM LEAF. effects of grief, and her animation of man ner and vivacity of speech entirely gone. That without apprizing her of the new mis fortune that had befallen him, he spent sev eral days endeavoring to assuage her sor row, and to open her mind anew to images of hope; that her only reply to all his kind endeavours to wean her from her melan choly, was, that she had no desire to live ; that she had seen the world under its bright est and darkest aspect, and was insensible alike to its pleasures and pains ; that she cherished no unkind feelings towards her family, for having thought proper to punish with such extreme rigor her first and only transgression, and as she felt she had ob tained forgiveness from God, so she hoped, that my friend, as her uncle had done, would also forgive her for having been so far betrayed by the strength of a woman s love as to have sought by means of a greater knowledge of the world than he possessed, to detach him from the lady he loved, and failing in her design, to have allured THE GERANIUM LEAF. 53 him from the path of duty, and to have proved to him a source of so much trouble and chagrin ; and, finally, that as she felt her dissolution to be fast approaching, and as it was the desire of the family, she was reconciled to part with her son, who, though her only consolation, was a conso lation she could enjoy but a short time longer. The letter also stated, that before leaving her, he effected a reconciliation be tween her and her family, that, through the aid of his brother, and a connection in England, his only confidants, he had, agreeably to his promise, remitted her, soon after leaving, a very considerable sum of money; that through the agency of the same person in England, he had settled one half of the residue of his property upon his son, when he entered the navy, and that he had made provision, in the event of his own death, for the settlement of the remain der upon him. The letter concluded with a description of his villa, a pressing invi tation to visit him, if he were alive, upon 5* 54 THE GERANIUM LEAF. the receipt of this letter ; and if not, to oblige him by acting, as far as possible, as a father to his son. It finally ended, with saying, that he was so tugged with disaster, so weary of the world, had become so extreme ly familiar with dark thoughts, that he prayed for no higher blessing than to be peaceably restored to the bosom of that earth which enfolded the remains of his father, mother, brother, the lady of his youthful love, and the mother of his boy. Before leaving Geneva, I made an invest ment of a part of my fortune, in the name, and for the benefit of his son, of which he was apprized by letter. " And such," said 1 " to the American, were the long train of consequences, resulting from that simple act of presenting a Geranium Leaf, or rather," said I, upon observing a dissenting expression in his countenance, " the conse quences of a young man having yielded to the persuasion of a vicious companion, rather than be guided by the counsels of a true friend ! " THE GERANIUM LEAF. 55 "No," said he, " they were not all the consequences, for two weeks afterwards that young officer threw himself into the lake of Geneva ! " Being accustomed to make short excur sions without acquainting any one, his ab sence was little regarded, except by Carlo, his dog, (whose constant moaning and run ning back and forth to a remote part of the lake, were thought to proceed from his dis tress at being left behind by his master,) until a body was taken up by a pleasure boat, among a party of whom it had drifted one moonlight night, nearly a week after his disappearance. When found, he bore few traces of what he once was, and but for his dress, which was torn, and the min iature of a lady, which the action of the water or something else had detached from its sacred resting-place and exposed to view, could not have been identified by his most intimate brother officers, who were called to examine it. His sudden death caused a great sensation even in a country where 56 THE GERANIUM LEAF. such instances are not uncommon, and his remains, which was interred near the cot tage, were attended to the grave by a vast concourse of people, native inhabitants as well as resident strangers ; and all the Swiss girls, far and near, whose acquaintance he had made by stopping at the cottages, in his excursions among the mountains, closed the extended line of procession, following on foot, dressed in white tunics and straw hats, and bearing wreaths of flowers, which they finally deposited upon his grave. These particulars I learned upon my return to Geneva, whither I repaired as soon as I was apprized of what had happened, but not in season to participate in the solemnities of the sad occasion. Still I found, though nearly a week had elapsed, that the public mind had not recovered from the impression produced by the melancholy occurrence. In deed in no country, as in Switzerland, does the death of a stranger seem to awaken such tender emotions, nor do the sympathies, else where, appear to be so alive to every appeal THE GERANIUM LEAF. 57 to their goodness. But there were circum stances accompanying the death of this young officer, independently of the general interest his personal character had in spired, calculated to present this beautiful trait in the Swiss character in its most touching light, and which made the grave a place of continual resort. The very day I reached Geneva, I sat out to visit it ; and a little before sunset knocked at the door of the cottage, which stood open. No one coming, I walked into the same room into which I was shown before. Except ing in the additional company of a motherly hen (who had walked in like myself) chasing the summer fly across the carpet, or clucking her unfeathered brood to seize an insect plucked from the neglected corners of the room, no appearance of change was perceptible. The very hounds lay there as before, but started up, as I entered this time, smelt of me, turned away, and sunk down again. In a few moments the good old lady came in from out of doors with a 58 THE GERANIUM LEAF. bundle of fagots, but no sooner recognized me, than dropping them, she started back, lifted up her hands, and exclaimed, " young master is dead ! young master is dead ! " And, in a tumult of grief, hurrying to a chair, she threw herself down, and buried her face in her hands, crying, "Sylvy will die too ! Sylvy will die too ! " I told her, that I was already informed of the sad occurrence, and would like to know the place of his burial. " O ! " said she, " take the shore of the lake, or follow the path up the precipice, back of the cottage, till you come to a road ; then go up the mountain, and down the other side ; you will find them all there." I followed the latter direction. Beyond the precipices, at the bottom, on the other side, in the road, stood a splendid equipage in charge of an English footman in rich livery, and, up the mountain, were slowly ascending a lady and an officer of the navy, carrying a little girl. We reached the sum mit nearly at the same moment, and, de- THE GERANIUM LEAF. 59 scending midway down on the other side, we all involuntarily halted, as we caught a glimpse through the green woof of vines and foliage, of the scene below. The spot selected for the grave was a little grotto, clothed in smooth, short, bright greensward, slightly undulating on its surface, almost surrounded by the thickly- wooded heights on which we were standing, and, whose tiers of yews and sycamores, one below the other, descending to it, formed a sort of amphitheatre to which the site of the grave, under other circumstances, might have seemed a verdant stage. The only opening was on the west, to the lake, over which the farewell beams of the sun were streaming upon the grave. The yews and sycamores, shooting out obliquely, on either side of the sloping heights, near their base, which, gradually converging, formed the lit tle area or grotto above described, inter locked their aged limbs, interlaced with vines, and made a solemn canopy high in the air over the grave. 60 THE GERANIUM LEAF. " How sorrowful ! How sorrowful ! * said the lady, lifting up her hands, and speaking in a low voice, as soon as her recovery from the shock, occasioned by the first sight of the spectacle below, enabled her to give utterance to her emotions and interpret the profound silence of our hearts. " That," said she, continuing in a low tone, " seated there, upon the mat, with down cast eyes, her cheek supported by her hand, and her arm resting upon the head of the grave, must be Sylvia, the widow s daugh ter. Dear creature, how lovely, yet wasted and desolate she looks ! Her little heart seems broken ! The fountain of her tears exhausted ! All consciousness lost in the absorbing sentiment of her bereavement ! See her young companion kneeling before her ! with what tenderness she clasps with one hand the neck of the little sufferer, and with the other smooths her neglected locks ! How affectionately she kisses her, and seems to say, Sylvy look up ! After a moment s pause, said the gentle- THE GERANIUM LEAF. 61 man, that, by her side, must be Carlo, his old favorite spaniel, which was present ed him by his father, and has been with him through all his travels. How famished he is ! How piteous he looks ! It is thought the marks of violence upon his master s dress were made by Carlo, in his attempt to rescue him and defeat his pur pose, or in endeavoring afterwards to draw him to the shore. It is said he followed the hearse to the grave, and will not leave the spot." " But see," said the lady, " that pretty Swiss girl with a basin of milk, hanging over him ! How fondly she caresses him with her hand, and, in her fondness, almost shrouds poor Carlo s vacant gaze with her long dark streaming tresses! How be seechingly she seems to say, drink, pretty Carlo, drink ! And those two others look ing on, their hats suspended from their arms and holding their white kirtles to their eyes! How touchingly their neat attire contrasts with the sorrow depicted in their 6 62 THE GERANIUM LEAF. countenances, and which speaks in their silent stillness more loudly than oratory ! " " They moan with their hearts," said the gentleman. "And the bosom, for whose coldness so many hearts are break ing, how unconscious it sleeps below ! " " Yes," said the lady, " this will be heavy news for Miss E. of Bath. I am happy, my dear William, that Lieut. S., and not you, is charged with the commission of con veying to her the last sad memorials of the love of one she prized above all others. Does Sylvia know, do you think, that he, for love of whom she is dying, could never have shared the sentiments he inspired? " " I do not," said the gentleman, " but it is said, he has left her and her widowed mother ample means of support, which he lately derived from the generosity of a stranger, whose regard he had strongly en listed." "I fear," said the lady, "she will never live to enjoy them. Look, see her smile as she plucks the greensward from the hil- THE GERANIUM LEAF. 63 lock ! How abstracted from all around her ! Poor creature, you will soon be at rest, and as unconscious as him you have lost ! " " There," said the gentleman, "is a woman s love ! This, then, is the world ! this is life! this human destiny! What terrible suffering through the unsearchable ways of Providence we are called to en counter ! " " Terrible, indeed," said the lady, burst ing into tears as she bent her gaze upon his countenance lit with the glow of manly beauty, the intelligence of a gifted mind, and the sensibility of a noble bosom, " terrible, even the thought, William, that those who love must one day separate ! " " We cannot help it, my dear," said her husband in a soft soothing tone, " all that live must die, passing though nature to eternity." At this moment, the child, which had been amusing itself with picking berries, 64 THE GERANIUM LEAF. came tottering over the low bushes to its mother, seized her gown, and looking up in her face, said, " Ma, ma, what you cry ing for ? " " Hush, my child," said her father, in a low voice, and raising her in his arms, di rected her eye to the scene which had awakened the painful reflections of her mother. The child looked for some time with dumb surprise, and as if at a loss to com prehend its meaning. But soon catching, as by sympathy, the feeling of sorrow which pervaded the objects of its attention, its countenance settled into an expression of sadness, and without withdrawing its eyes, said to its father, " What they hurt ing that poor dog and woman for?" " Nobody is hurting them, my child," said the father. They are sick. They have lost one whom they loved more than you can love papa, mamma, or your little brother." THE GERANIUM LEAF. 65 " Where is he?" said the child. " Under that little green pillow," replied the father. " Won t he never come back again ?" " Never," said the father. " My papa will never go away." " My child," said the father, annoyed or affected by the simplicity of her prattle, and setting her down, " go and pick some ber ries ; you cannot understand these things " I pray it may be long before my dar ling can, from experience," said her sob bing mother. At this moment came round the shore of the lake at the base of the hill, and ap proached the grave, a party of maidens; in their pretty features, youthful appear ance, neat attire, and simple manners, scarce distinguishable from those already there. They replaced the flowers upon the grave with the newly gathered ones they bore in their hands, and each, stoop- 6* 66 THE GERANIUM LEAF. ing in turn, kissed Sylvia tenderly. At the signal of one more matronly than the rest, they then formed a circle round the grave, enclosing alike poor Sylvia and Car lo, and knelt down in silence. The bell now from St. Mary s Abbey, on a distant mountain, was faintly heard tolling the knell of parting day, and, precisely at this moment, they began to chant a vesper hym. So soft was the melody, that its last strains, as they died away in the long aisles of the forest, seemed like the silver tones of the seraphs, vanishing in the clouds, with some sister of earth, borne to the home of the blest. The chant ended, they rose, and having patted Carlo kindly, and adjust ed his bed for the night, four of them gen tly raised the mat upon which Sylvia was seated, and as she sunk back almost life less, and clasped with her arms the neck of the one on each side of her nearest to her hands, if not dearest to her heart, they bore her off, followed by all the rest, and GERANIUM LEAF. 67 taking the shore, disappeared the way they came. " How solemn ! How solemn ! " said the lady as she turned to leave the spot. " My dear," she added, speaking in a low voice to her husband, who remained mo tionless, " let us go. Night is coming, and our stranger friend, who lingers, may wait our retirement. 7 The gentleman started as from a reverie, and, taking up his daughter, began to de scend. When nearly out of hearing, said he with energy as he raised his right arm with vehemence, t: Caroline, should you survive me, God grant, that the last time your eyes are turned upon me, I may be in health. Let me die on shipboard, fighting the enemies of my country." The image of the sun, already set, was now faintly painted on the western hori zon, and the robin, from the lofty summit of the yew-tree, overhead, had already car olled his farewell lay. The little linnet, 68 THE GERANIUM LEAF. scared by the scenes of day, returned with the return of dusk, and, hopping from sprig to sprig, slid softly into her nest in the overhanging canopy above the grave. The lowing of the kine, browsing home ward in the valleys, waxed fainter and fainter, and the blithe hallooing of the shep herds, from mountain to mountain, coming down to pen their flocks, entirely ceased. The evening insect was already upon his droning wing, the glow worm in the thick covert began to trim his ineffectual fires, and the quiet waters of the lake, beneath the returning footsteps of the night-breeze, were heard to whisper along the shore. Still I lingered, and lingered, repassing in my mind the painful passages of a painful life, and contemplating before me, in my ad vanced years, the dark issue of one of those adventures, which, when the day star of youth was on high, had struck me as so enchanting. I thought of my southern friend, and wept aloud. And the very out- THE GERANIUM LEAF. 69 lines of Carlo s unaltered mein, were blend ed with the shadows around him, before I could tear myself from the spot, and leave the body of his son, and his dying dog, to the damp of nightfall and the solitude of nature." 96 1 397 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY