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THE DAY OF TRIAL.
IN FOUR VOLUMES.
AUTHOR OF THE FOREST OF COMALVA, &c.
FOR A. K. NEWMAN AND CO.
240. S. 204.
ANSEL M O.
Lessen'd fame is ne'er regain'd;
And virgin honour once, is always stain'd:
Better not do the deed, than weep it done;
THE moon was ranging in cloudless
majesty the blue ethereal, and the lovely bird of eve had begun his complaining notes of deep distress, ere Eleanor awoke from her refreshing sleep. She listened with a melancholy kind of pleasure to the soft minstrel of the woods, whose sadness
was in unison, and seemed a sympathetic feeling with her own..
The long absence of her attendant excited some surprise; she supposed, therefore, the promise of return from the loquacious Aldrude was quite forgotten. It was with much difficulty Eleanor revived the dying embers of a wood fire to light her lamp, for the purpose of continuing her communication to the confessor of Santa Maria, for the completion of which, and on its success, now rested all her future hopes. The more she contemplated on the insufficiency of worldly happiness, the more she became determined to dedicate the remainder of her life to religion, where alone true joy is to be found. Yet Eleanor was no angel; for as the pen formed the fiat of her fate-the determination she had adopted to embrace the veil, and to be immured for ever in the gloomy cell of a monastery-her hand shook, an universal trembling pervaded her. frame,
frame, and the tears she shed completely erased the writing.
What was to be done!-the confessor could not possibly decipher the words meaning, and another sheet of paper was not to be procured that night. Displeased, chiding herself, for this unaccountable weakness on a point which she had so repeatedly desired the conclusion, and now felt the imperious necessity of finally resolving, was truly afflicting. Eleanor found it impossible to proceed with a mind so torn by the various emotions that assailed her, and therefore arose from her seat, and walked towards the window, in hopes of tranquillizing her spirits, and collecting her thoughts from their present wild and agitated state.
The stillness of the hour, and calmness of the surrounding scene, for not a zephyr. moved even the leaves of the o'er shadowing pine, somewhat composed Eleanor; she directed her eyes to