VOL. II.] New-York...Saturday, March 16....1811. [NO. 19. LOVE AND DUTY: [CONTINUED.] purchase his recovery from death, by consenting to bestow him on the daughter of the infamous d'Anglade. But Eugene at length WHEN they arrived, they slowly and surely recovered; and found Madeleine so overwhelmed with affliction, that she was scarcely sensible to the joy of hearing the President express himself towards her in terms of unabated affection; and at last she with difficulty informed them that mademoiselle d'Anglade was gone she knew not where, and might not return for months, nor even for years. with his health returned, in all their force, the prejudices of his father. As soon as Eugene was able to go out, his first visit was to Madeleine; and at his earnest request, she showed him Constantia's farewell letter to herself. It was as follows: "I am going to leave France, my best friend; and as I am une. qual to endure the pang of taking a personal leave of you, I bid you farewell thus.-Believe me, that nothing but the most imperious duty could have induced me to forsake you; but I have the consolation of knowing that I leave you in excellent hands, and you shall have that of hearing, when you see me again, that I, who now bid you adieu, oppressed by At this entire annihilation of the faint and ill-founded hope which had hurried him like a maniac along the streets to the dwelling of Madeleine, Eugene sunk in a swoon into the arms of his father, and recovered only to rave in the delirium of fever: while the President, as he watehed through many sleepless nights and restless days by the sicklanguor, and by unavailing regret, conch of his unconscious son, could almost have consented to shall probably be invigorated by the consciousness of duties fulfill ed, and by the animating whispers of hope.-I shall say no more at present; and indeed your only chance of hearing from me, or of me, during my absence, depends on your beloved Eugene : when he is married, you shall hear some intelligence of mebut not till then. "Let me, however, give you the pleasure of knowing, that by the death of the distant relation who has hitherto contributed to my support, I am become rich and independent; and I beg you to accept the inclosed, as a slight mark of my unalterable. friend ship and eternal gratitude to you, * more I would send, but that there · are claims on my little wealth · even more sacred than yours, and I hasten to fulfil them... I' am going into scenes of activity, anxiety, and fatigue, and shall probably be absent many months: but I court, I welcome difficulties. I want to dissipate certain recollections. O Madeleine! little did I ever think, that any event could make the hardship of my fate appear greater in my eyes than it has always done: but I was mistaken-and I have learnt to drink to the very dregs the bitter cup offered to my lips, by the consciousness that I am the daughter of a malefactor. Yet why should I dwell on the dark side of my situation? "Do not pity, then, my dearest friend, but love me, and pray for me; and believe me, that in sickness and in sorrow, in despondence and in hope, in adversity and in prosperity, I shall al ways be your affectionate and de voted child. "Constantia D'Anglade." This letter contained a bill to a considerable amount: but Madeleine declared, that while Cortstantia was absent she should not have the heart to use it; and then, as Constantia expected she would do, Madeleine reminded Eugene that, till he was married, she could not hear any news of her absent friend. Eugene made her no reply then, nor, indeed, at any future time when she made the same remark; but, in about six months after the departure of Constantia, he informed his father that he was willing to marry the lady whom he had designed for him. But my dear son, cried the President, are you sure that you can oblige me so far without any considerable effort to yourself? If I did it without an effort, replied Eugene, gravely, it would be no sacrifice, no proof of my devotion to her, whom though I shall never behold, I shall never forget; and therefore I should have less pleasure in fulfilling your wishes than I shall have now. 4 The President said no more: but on Eugene's solemnly assuring him that he esteemed his intended wife, and was truly grateful to her for her long attachment to him an attachment, proof éven against his coldness and neglect-he presented Eugene in form to the lady and her father, and in a few weeks after, the marriage took place. But no engagements, either of pleasure or profit, or ceremony, could lure Eugene, at his stated hours, from the couch of Madeleine: and in a few's days after his marriage"Well, Madeleine, have you any thing to tell me?" was his first salutation to her, and continued to be so for many days, without her being able to give him a sa tisfactory answer: at length, however, Madeleine, on his entrance, held out a letter to him; it had no post-mark, and only contained these words: "I am well; full of business, and full of hopes ; and let me add, I am also full of gratitude to that kind friend who has enabled me, by following the dictates of his duty, to fulfil mine to you: you shall now hear of my welfare fre quently, Tell monsieur Eugene des Essars he has my blessings and my thanks. I can't write more at present, except that I am unalterably yours." Thank God, she is well, and perhaps in a way to be happy!”. said Eugene, pressing the letter to his quivering lips; and she remembers me with kindness! and she approves, and is grateful for my conduct! Well, then, I ought to be conteuded! and I am contented! But the tears that would course each other down his cheek, gave a denial to this as sertion, and it was some minutes before he recovered his composure. But now, Madeleine, said he, when he had recovered his voice, I have one more sacrifice to make. My anxiety is now removed; I have seen, in her own hand writing, that she is well and in spirits, and that ought to content me: from this moment therefore, show me no more of her letters; and unless a change of importance takes place in her situation, do not even name her to me. I am now the husband of another, and of one too w hose only fault in my eyes can be, that she is not Constantia d'Anglade a A |