gland.) I was not suffered to indulge in this delicious revery; for, immediately, my wife, exclaiming, “It is too y much '' fell back into the arms of one of the ladies, and was carried from the room in convulsions. o Had such scenes been too often repeated, had there been no extraordinary light to relieve the great depth of shadow in the picture, my affection might have waned before the honey-moon had run its last quarter; but, as I have said, ours was a life of alternate storm and sunshine, and, when the tempest was over, so delightful was the calm that succeeded, it seemed I trod a path bestrewed with flowers, and breathed an atmosphere that was scented with their sweets. . But, whether happy in the main or not, this life of uncertain joy, over whose sky of azure the lurid clouds gathered and passed to re-gather and repass, was but a day — a winter's day, and thick night came of a o sudden, and sun and cloud were both gone, and darkness, so cold and dreary, and longer than that day had been, fell

upon my spirits.— It was the 14th of December, 1797,— a day, when almost every individual in Cumana had his own individual misfortunes, great or small, to grieve for, yet even the greatest counted as a mere unit in the sum total of the general calamity. I was at the house of a Spanish gentleman, conversing with him on some matter of business, when suddenly it seemed as though the floor on which we stood was in motion, for, without any exercise of volition, I found myself staggering from my place like a drunken man. At the same time, the furniture in the room trembled as if shaken by the feet of dancers, the pictures rattled on the walls, and a small bit of plaster fell from the ceiling. With a cry of " Mercy, God!'' my companion grasped me by the arm, and drew me from the house. The instant we reached the street, e loud subterranean noise was heard,—such a sound as one might fancy would be made by heavy artillery, discharged at a great depth beneath the surface of the ground; then the earth heaved with a strong convulsion; and, in e second, scarcely one house m ten was left standing ot the whole city of Cumana,— swept in pieces to the ground, like the parts of a puppet-show disjointed by a single movement of the hand of the player.

Dizzy, as one who feels for the first time the rolling o! a ship at sea, almost stupefied by the horrours that thickened round me, so unprepared to meet them, I did not forget that there was one existence, still dearer to me than mine own, involved in the perils of this fearful hour. My companion, flying for safety to the great square. would have led me with him; but I broke from his friendly grasp, without a word, and forced my hurried steps through the streets, blocked up as they were witli ruins, and thronged with people — a miserable crowd! children calling on their parents, wives on their husbands, and none to answer,— numbers, of all ages, and both sexes, on their knees, invoking Heaven for mercy, while braving, in their superstition, the very dangers from •which their own exertions might deliver them,— the wounded, and the dying, screaming for help, as they lay crushed beneath their fallen dwellings, or groaning in agonies from which they hoped for no relief, saving in the death whose tardy coming they would fain hasten,— and over all, and through all, Rapine striding with eager steps, rejoicing in her unmolested harvest. Then it was that Beatriz, could she have observed me, had been satisfied of my unwavering affection. For, as I hastened onward, turning an anxious eye to right and left, in hopes that the object of my solicitude, warned to seek for safety in the open street, was now looking for him who should support her in an hour so trying, a female, calling me by name, cast herself at my feet, and, clasping my knees, besought me, in the most piteous accents, to save her. It was Senora Sirena. O, h6w powerful was the appealing beauty of her eyes! So had Agata looked, the night when she besought my protection. But I was not moved. Putting one hand before my face, that I might not meet the gaze I could not answer as I would, I unclasped, with the other, the arms of the suppliant beauty, and exclaiming, earnestly, "The square! the square!" sprang from her side, and continued my way,— pitiless — but from necessity.

Onward I pressed, no obstacle impeding long my course. At times, the ground trembled beneath my feet like the turf in a meadow; and thrice, as successive feebler shocks threw down some wall which the great convulsion had left standing, was my life in imminent danger; yet, without a thought of myself, I passed rapidly from street to street, borne up by the giant strength of an excitement, that was neither hope nor fear, but a mixture of both in the most intense degree. Soon I reached the quarter of my own residence; I stood nigh the very spot where my own dwelling should be. Where was that dwelling now? and where were the houses that had stood beside it — on the right — and left? that had faced it? All level with the ground, and a mass of unsightly ruins left in mockery of the puny strength of man, whose proudest works are to the elements what to him in his childhood were thistledown and feathers. But Beatriz's my treasure? had she fled? was she safe!— For some minutes I stood completely stupefied, (though I saw nothing worse than I should have expected,) then, with a cry of horrour, rushed back upon my steps, calling every where on Beatriz, and questioning the wretched like myself, while all that answered me was my own voice—“Beatriz Beatriz'- and voices, wild like mine, calling on others, lost like Beatriz. – " * * * *.— I intended to complete the tale of my suffer. ings, to number them, in painful succession, one by one,— to dwell on each, till I had touched it with its own peculiar tint—laboured to the most minute shade of colouring, and shadow of a shade; but I dare not. A wife, but newly married,— and in a situation that doubled the horrours of a fate so horrible, found lifeless, buried be. neath the home that was meant to shelter her,- her angel beauty disfigured by the ruin under which she had sunk, and by the vile hands of thieves, (where they had torn the pendants from her ears, and mangled her small fingers to wrest from them their jewels;) a fast improving fortune driven back to almost its primitive littleness; and he, that bore these shocks, a single sufferer amid a thousand,- where none could pity, since all alike were pitia. ble;— are not these sufficient horrours to occupy the gloomiest imagination? Let the reader ponder them, and add one more to the many trials of JEREMy LEvrs.

SIXTY YEARS OF THE LIFE

JEREMY LEVIS.

BOOK SEVENTH.

CHAPTER I.

Vixi puellia nuper idoneus,
Et inilitavi non sine gloria;
Nunc arma defunctumque bello
Barbiton hie paries habebit.

Hoe.—

That thou art my son, I have

partly thy mother.s word, partly my own opinion; but chiefly, a villainous trick of thine eye, and a foolish hanging of thy nether lip, that doth warrant me.

1st Ft. Hen. If;

Could I ever love again? It is a question to be answered only by conjecture. I had not yet completed my nine-and-twentieth year, and, by a wise provision of our nature, sorrow for the dead is not of very long continuance; nevertheless, after the loss of Beatriz, 1 never regarded woman with any steady affection, other than that of a mere indolent, bastard sort of friendship. I preserved indeed all my admiration for beauty,—as, I trust, I shall preserve it, till my eyes fail me, or my brain ceases to welcome the impressions transmitted through them; but that was all,— possibly, because, warned by previous suffering, I would not indulge the transient sen

Yol. II. 29