Elinor was at an age to feel the change that had taken place with poignancy; but she was also at an age when the mind opens to new impressions, and when virtuous principles are easily stamped upon it. Her intercourse with the Watson family had been a real blessing. This was still left to her; and she soon found, in constant employment, and the necessary labour of her own industry, a tranquillity that was new to her. Poor Jane !-her task was the hardest. She had much to unlearn-habits of self-indulgence, feelings of mortification, of pride, and even of envy, to struggle against. In their dreary lot, the family had one thing to cheer them. The accounts they received from Dr Fulton and of him were on the whole encouraging; and his wife was anxious to join him with her family. But he was wise enough to forbid it, as premature. The last letter he wrote to Elinor contained the following passages, which may appropriately conclude the narrative : 'I begin to hope we may all again be gathered into one family, even in this world. My business is prosperous; and I have reasonable expectations of being able, in the course of a few years, to convince my creditors that however wide I have travelled from the right course, it is not irrecoverable. I willingly submit to every privation in this blessed hope. In the meantime, I daily thank God for my domestic relations--that He has preserved to me my wife and children-has given me such a child as you have proved yourself— and taught us all that real independence consists in living within the means. THE CHILD OF ELLE. N yonder hill a castle stands The Child of Elle to his garden went, When lo! he beheld fair Emmeline's page Come tripping down the dale. The Child of Elle he hied him hence, And soon he met fair Emmeline's page 'Now rest ye here, thou little foot-page, O tell me how does thy lady gay, 'My lady she is all wobegone, No. 104. And here she sends thee a silken scarf, And bids thee sometimes think on her And here she sends thee a ring of gold— For ah! her gentle heart is broke, And in grave soon must she be ; Since her father hath chose her a new, new love, And forbid her to think of thee. Her father hath brought her a carlish knight— And within three days she must him wed, 'Now hie thee back, thou little foot-page, And greet thy lady from me, And tell her that I, her own true love, Now hie thee back, thou little foot-page, This night will I be at her bower window, The boy he tripped, the boy he ran, Until he came to fair Emmeline's bower, 'O lady, I've been with thy own true love, This night will he be at thy bower window, Now day was gone, and night was come, All save the Lady Emmeline, Who sat in her bower to weep. And soon she heard her true love's voice, Low whispering at the wall: 'Awake, awake, my dear lady; 'Tis I, thy true love, call. Awake, awake, my lady dear; 'Now nay, now nay, thou gentle knight; For aye should I tint my maiden fame, 'O lady, thou with knight so true To my lady mother I will thee bring, 'My father he is a baron bold, Ah, well I wot he never would rest, Nor his meat should do him no good, Until he had slain thee, Child of Elle, And seen thy dear heart's blood.' 'O lady, wert thou in saddle set, I would not care for thy cruel father, Fair Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept, At length he seized her lily-white hand, And thrice he clasped her to his breast, The tears that fell from her fair eyes He mounted himself on his steed so tall, And slung his bugle about his neck, All this beheard her own damsel, Awake, awake, thou baron bold! Your daughter is fled with the Child of Elle, The baron he woke, the baron he rose, 'And come thou forth, Sir John the knight; Thy lady is carried to thrall.' Fair Emmeline scarce had ridden a mile, When she o'erheard her father's men And foremost came the carlish knight- For she is come of high lineage, And ill it beseems thee, a false churl's son, 'Now loud thou liest, Sir John the knight, Now thou doest lie of me; A knight me bred, and a lady me bore; But light now down, my lady fair- But light now down, my dear lady- Fair Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept, While 'twixt her love and the carlish knight The Child of Elle he fought so well, That soon he had slain the carlish knight, |