ing her. Julia, on her part, was not insensible to the praises which were universally bestowed on the young Silesian. Julia and Theodore, without at first perceiving it, grew every day more attached; and, at the end of two months, he

ventured to say, "Ah, if I were but permitted to love you !"

Julia did not appear offended at this avowal, but merely said, with a sigh, that she feared her father would not encourage him." May I be permitted to speak to him?" asked Theodore. Julia nodded assent.

He requested some of Mr. Rich's friends to prepare him for this visit, and to speak in his favour. Mr. Rich, however, received him with evident vexation, and gravely replied to his suit:

"I have certainly been told many flattering things, not only of your father, but also of yourself; and I feel assured that you are too reasonable to wish that I should settle at so great a distance from me a daughter who constitutes all my happiness, and who is the only consolation of my declining years. Is it possible for me to part with her ?"

It was in vain that Theodore promised to visit him every year, and even to settle at Leipsic

after the death of his father." I am sorry,” replied he, "but I cannot part with my daughter."

Theodore was distressed by this denial. He stood motionless. Mr. Rich looked at him with attention, and then suddenly exclaimed, "Where did you get that brooch ?"

"I have preserved it since I was a boy." "But how did you get it?"

Theodore briefly related the adventure. Mr. Rich seized his hand, exclaiming, "Julia is your's! I dare not refuse her! Το

you

I am

indebted for every thing I possess !" He then told him, that he had been only a poor commission merchant, with nothing in the world but the portfolio, which contained certificates of his good conduct, and a letter of recommendation, which a merchant had given him before his death, and which it was therefore impossible for him to replace;-that by means of these papers he obtained a situation in one of the first mercantile houses, where he gained the affection of the principal, and became eventually both his son-in-law and heir to his fortune.

"In this event," added he, "I recognize the wise disposition of Providence! You may carry my daughter away with you. If, at the gates

E

of Breslau, when you returned my portfolio, any one had said to me, 'Could you at any time refuse your daughter to this young man, if the germs of the virtues which he now carries in his breast shall have been developed?' I should certainly have replied, 'No,' with the greatest pleasure; why then should I think differently

now ?"

Julia was called in; and, having avowed her affection for her father's young friend, their marriage was celebrated; and Theodore, in the overflowing of his happiness, repeated the excellent maxim of his father, and exclaimed, " And I too will instruct my children, that they shall never say-What is it to me?"

THE PIECE OF GOLD.

IF, among the benefits which we confer, some produce only ingratitude and forgetfulness, yet others yield the most delightful enjoyment, and give birth to never-failing associations of unmixed pleasure.

Harriet, the daughter of a wealthy merchant, named Murval, was sitting, one fine summer's evening, at a bow-window of her father's mansion, with several young companions: and while various parties were engaged at cards in the drawingroom, they were diverting themselves with watching two little natives of Auvergne, who were performing the dance of their country to the sound of the bagpipe, whose harsh tones were in perfect accordance with the grotesque movements and shrill voices of the two mountaineers.

Harriet, who laughed heartily at the sight of their contortions, was amusing herself with her young friends, when one of the boys came up to the balcony, and, holding out his hat, asked for charity for the little Auvergnese.

Harriet, who had no money about her, turned from the window, and, going up to her father, who was playing at cards, asked him for a trifle, to give to two poor mountaineers. Mr. Murval gave his daughter several pieces of money, which she wrapped in a slip of paper, and threw to the youthful dancer; who, still holding his tattered hat, said to the young people, "God will reward you!" So saying, he put the paper into his pocket, together with what

had been thrown to him from other windows, and disappeared with his companion, who had continued playing the bagpipe.

The following morning, at breakfast, Harriet described to her father the comical dance of the two Auvergnese, and deplored the fate of these poor children, who, at so early an age, were separated from their parents, and removed above two hundred leagues from their native village, to endure the greatest hardships, and all the inclemencies of the season; and, what is perhaps even more painful, to be witnesses to the pomp and ostentation of the wealthy.

Mr. Murval endeavoured to improve these just observations of his daughter, by shewing her how thankful we ought to be for the favours of fortune, and the advantages of a careful education; and how unworthy we prove of the blessings which Providence bestows on us, if we refuse to assist the unfortunate, who are deprived of these gifts.

While the father was yet conversing with his daughter on this interesting subject, a servant came in to say, that two little Auvergnese desired to speak with the young lady.

"If they should turn out to be those two who