By foreign hands thy dying eyes were clos'd, Yet shall thy grave with rising flowers be dress'd, "Ne from thenceforth doth any fleshly sense, Their joy, their comfort, their desire, their gain, Spenser's Hymn of Heavenly Beauty. ROSINE. ROSINE declined the offer of her sister Sophie, to accompany her in her walk: she wished to think alone; and she hurried on, to get quite away by herself: she soon found that she was nearly at the summit of the verdant mountain, which rose above her father's dwelling. The Parsonage of Rossiniere was a large cottage at a little distance from the village; immediately behind it, rose a hill covered with the greenest verdure: two chalets, shaded by pines and birch trees, stood on the side of it; and, beyond it, grey sterile rocks, spotted, in some places, with patches of snow, shot up their spiral summits into the sky these mountains were usually wreathed with clouds, but in the rainy seasons even the green hill above the parsonage was often half veiled in floating mists. Rosine sat down on the fresh turf: her mind was busy with the schemes, which had that morning been half formed; and the thought, that she might be no longer a burthen to her dear father, had given a sort of tumultuous joy to her feelings, which she had not yet examined. Though a thousand suggestions had presented themselves to her mind, as she had ascended the hill, she had put them all off, saying to herself, "When I reach a place, where I can think without being disturbed, I shall be able to determine. Ah!" she mournfully exclaimed, as she looked around, "I am come to the very worst place; for every thing here presses round my heart, endued with some charm, by so many endearing associations. This glorious view of my own dear Switzerland! these rocks! and this emerald verdure! that waterfall, like sparkling silver, with its soft melting rainbow! The air, which seems to inspire health and liberty! the very flowers," she added, sprinkling her lips with the dew, which glistened in the azure chalice of a gentian she had just gathered; every thing whispers-nay, every thing speaks aloud, of home, and of my country. Oh, how very foolish I was to fix upon this spot! To be sure, I have always come here to think and meditate; but never before to think of leaving my own country. Perhaps I am wrong, though: perhaps I am come to the very best place. How can I fail to remember that the summit of such a mountain as this was the scene of our Saviour's trials: to such a spot as this he was wont to retire that he might meditate and pray: it was on such a mountain that he resisted the strongest temptations: and it is here that I myself, by his assistance, will overcome mine-my great temptation," she said, as her eye rested on the light volumes of smoke, curling and dispersing above the trees surrounding her own cottage. Rosine knelt down, and, turning her face meekly towards heaven, she prayed earnestly for strength; at first, a few tears dimmed her eyes, but she rose, composed and prepared. Whenever she, afterwards, felt inclined to give way, she immediately prayed for support, and her prayers were never disregarded. "What makes my father look so grave, this morning," whispered one of the young children, to his mother, as they were at breakfast the next day. "Why are you so grave, my love?" said Madame St. Alme.-"Rosine is the cause," answered her husband." "How have you displeased your father, Rosine?" Rosine did not speak, but she held down her head, and blushed deeply. She has not displeased me," said her father, "she has made me feel happy in the possession of such a |