tenderness of his mother, the good sense of his father, the exquisite
natural grace of Angela. Tell me, my friend, was it possible to unite
more elements of domestic happiness? What long evenings have we passed
round the fire of crackling wood, reading, or commenting on a few
immortal works, which always warm the heart, and enlarge the soul!
What sweet talk have we had, prolonged far into the night! And then
Agricola's pastorals, and the timid literary confidences of Magdalen!
And the fresh, clear voice of Angela, joined to the deep manly tones of
Agricola, in songs of simple melody! And the old stories of Dagobert,
so energetic and picturesque in their warlike spirit! And the adorable
gayety of the children, in their sports with good old Spoil-sport,
who rather lends himself to their play than takes part in it--for the
faithful, intelligent creature seems always to be looking for somebody,
as Dagobert says--and he is right. Yes, the dog also regrets those two
angels, of whom he was the devoted guardian!

"Do not think, my friend, that our happiness makes us forgetful. No, no;
not a day passes without our repeating, with pious and tender respect,
those names so dear to our heart. And these painful memories, hovering
forever about us, give to our calm and happy existence that shade of
mild seriousness which struck you so much. No doubt, my friend, this
kind of life, bounded by the family circle, and not extending beyond,
for the happiness or improvement of our brethren, may be set down as
selfish; but, alas! we have not the means--and though the poor man
always finds a place at our frugal table, and shelter beneath our roof,
we must renounce all great projects of fraternal action. The little
revenue of our farm just suffices to supply our wants. Alas! when I
think over it, notwithstanding a momentary regret, I cannot blame my
resolution to keep faithfully my sacred oath, and to renounce that great
inheritance, which, alas! had become immense by the death of my kindred.
Yes, I believe I performed a duty, when I begged the guardian of that
treasure to reduce it to ashes, rather than let it fall into the hands
of people, who would have made an execrable use of it, or to perjure
myself by disputing a donation which I had granted freely, voluntarily,
sincerely. And yet, when I picture to myself the realization of the
magnificent views of--my ancestor--an admirable Utopia, only possible
with immense resources--and which Mdlle