[17] Cotton. MSS. Nero, C. x.

[18] Cotton. MSS. Nero, C. 10.

[19] "Chronicle," v. ii. p. 944.

* * * * *

THE NOVELIST.

* * * * *

THE HEARTHSTONE.--A GERMAN TRADITIONAL TALE.

(_For the Mirror_.)

Frantz did not at all like his new benefice; his parishioners were
evidently idle, ill-disposed people, doing no credit to the ministry of
the deceased incumbent; and looking with eyes any thing but respectful
and affectionate upon their new pastor. In short, he foresaw a host of
troubles; although he had not taken possession of his living for more than
two days. Neither did he admire the lonely situation of his house, which,
gloomy and old fashioned, needed (at least so thought the polished Frantz,
just emerged from the puny restraints and unlimited licenses of college)
nothing less than a total rebuilding to render it inhabitable. His own
sleeping apartment he liked less than all; but what could be done? It was
decidedly the only decent dormitory in the house--had been that of the
late pastor--and there was no help for it--could not but be his own. The
young minister was wretched--lamented without ceasing the enjoyments of
Leipzig--missed the society of his fellow students, and actually began to
meditate taking a wife. But upon whom should his election fall? He caused
all his female acquaintances to pass in mental review before him; some
were fair--some wealthy--some altogether angelic; but Frantz was not Grand
Seignior, and he allowed himself to be puzzled in a matter where every
sentiment of love and honour ought to have, without hesitation, determined
his choice; for in his rainbow visions of bright beauty and ethereal
perfection, appeared the lonely and lovely Adelinda. Adelinda, the poor,
the fond, the devoted, and, but for him, the innocent. No; beautiful and
loving as she was, connected with her were the brooding shadows of guilt,
and the lurid clouds of fiery vengeance; and Frantz had rather not think
of Adelinda.

On the morning of the third day of his residence at Steingart, he happened
to awake very early; being summertime it was broad daylight, and a bright
sun was endeavouring to beam upon his countenance through the small
lozenges of almost opaque glass which filled the high, narrow, and many
paned window. Not feeling inclined to sleep, nor for the present to rise,
Frantz laid for some time in deep reverie, with his eyes