its indulgence.

Volktman continued his pursuits with an ardour that increased--as do all
species of monomania--with increasing years; and in the accidental truth
of some of his predictions, he forgot the erroneous result of the rest.
He corresponded at times with the Englishman, who, after a short
sojourn in England, had returned to the Continent, and was now making a
prolonged tour through its northern capitals.

Very different, indeed, from the astrologer's occupations were those of
the wanderer; and time, dissipation, and a maturer intellect had cured
the latter of his boyish tendency to studies so idle and so vain. Yet
he always looked back with an undefined and unconquered interest to
the period of his acquaintance with the astrologer; to their long and
thrilling watches in the night season; to the contagious fervour of
faith breathing from the visionary; his dark and restless excursions
into that remote science associated with the legends of eldest time, and
of

"The crew, who, under names of old renown,
Osiris, Isis, Orus, and their train,
With monstrous shapes and sorceries, abused
Fanatic Egypt and her priests."

One night, four years after the last scene we have described in the
astrologer's house, Volktman was sitting alone in his favourite room.
Before him was a calculation on which the ink was scarcely dry. His face
leant on his breast, and he seemed buried in thought. His health had
been of late gradually declining; and it might be seen upon his worn
brow and attenuated frame, that death was already preparing to withdraw
the visionary from a world whose substantial enjoyments he had so
sparingly tasted.

Lucilla had been banished from his chamber during the day. She now knew
that his occupation was over, and entered the room with his evening
repast; that frugal meal, common with the Italians--the polenta (made
of Indian corn), the bread and the fruits, which after the fashion of
students he devoured unconsciously, and would not have remembered one
hour after whether or not it had been tasted!

"Sit thee down, child," said he to Lucilla, kindly;--"sit thee down."

Lucilla obeyed, and took her seat upon the very stool on which she had
been seated the last night on which the Englishman had seen her.

"I have been thinking," said Volktman, as he placed his hand on his
daughter's head, "that I shall soon leave thee; and I should like to see
thee protected by another before my own depar