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wall that terminates one of bis gardens, perceived a young female, who seemed to be crying to herself. He asked her what gave her so much uneasiness. To this she made no reply, but sobbed on. He repeated his question. She answe

wered, that it would be of little signification to tell, for he could be of no service to her.

My dress may not promise much ability,” returned the emperor, who made, in disguise, but rather a shabby appearance, “ but, perhaps, it may, nevertheless, be in my power to remove those tears from your eyes.' The emperor still pressing to be informed, the young woman reluctantly acquainted him that her mother was in the greatest distress and very ill, and that she (the daughter) was then going to raise money on her only remaining clothes (those she had on her excepted), for their present subsistence. He inquired after her family, and she informed him that her father was an officer, and died in the service. He asked her if they had no pension. She told him, no.“ Why have you not preferred a memorial to the emperor ?” The girl answered, that several had been delivered to a great man, belonging to the court, to be presented by him to the emperor, but they had availed nothing. "Do you think the emperor received them?” She said, “ There was no doubt of that: but,' continued she, “ they say the emperor is a miser." He told her he had some interest at court, and desired she would come with a memorial in the morning, at ten o'clock, to such a part of the palace, and inquire for such a person: that he would be there, and would recommend her mother's cause in such a manner, as, he doubted not, would be attended with success. The girl hesitated at the proposal. “ I will not deceive you,

he returned; “ go, child, home to your mother; spare your clothes ; take this, (giving her three gold ducats), buy yourselves food; and be sure do not disappoint me at ten to-morrow.' They parted: the young woman, al} amazed, ran home, and recounted her story. The mother wept on the neck of the daughter; the daughter, drowned in tears, hung on that of the mother.

The emperor had given the proper orders in the morning for

the reception of the young woman. She not coming to her time appointed, he made several impatient inquiries, from that hour to near eleven, to know if she were not yet come. Her staying at home was owing to a delicacy and a fear that she could not account for. Indeed, somebody had suggested to her (on hearing the description of the person who had so generously assisted her, and knowing it was the report that the emperor sometimes amused himself in excursions of this kind) that, perhaps, it might be the emperor himself. By the persuasions of her friends, however, at length she overcame her difficulties; and, as the clock was striking eleven, she made her appearance at the part of the palace where she had been directed to. There was a person ready to receive her. She told him her business. “The emperor, madam, has been waiting impatiently for you this hour.” The apprehensions instilled into her now becoming a certainty, and these attended with fears (on account of her having made so free with the character of the prince on the preceding night) at the name of emperor, she was very near fainting; but, presently recovering, her being arrived was announced, and she was ordered to be introduced. Her sovereign was dressed with more than common elegance and richness (perhaps for the greater contrast to his appearance the night before). She fell on her knees: she lost all utterance. He condescendingly stooped to raise her up: he bid her be comforted: he asked her for her memorial: she gave it. He made a point of knowing to whom her former memorials were delivered, that he might inform himself of the reason he had never seen them, and prevent such offences to himself and his subjects (these were his words) for the future. “I shall make particular inquiries into the truth of your memorial,” said the amiable young monarch;

o if I find the assertions are just, and your distresses as represented, tell your mother I shall order a pension, for herself and family, of 400 ducats.". This was too affecting ! she fell at his feet ! he raised her a second time. She began withdrawing herself respectfully at a distance, as if departing.

“ Hold," continued the prince,“ take this purse (containing 200 ducats): it is for yourself; and I give it you because

you

told me I am a misèr: let it bear witness for me to the contrary.”

ETIQUETTE.

The Spanish etiquette is a certain regulation which contains all the ceremonies which the Spanish monarchs are obliged to observe, and which they dare not, upon any pretence, break through; but yet is a greater check upon the liberty of the queen consort, for they are often forbid things the most innocent. The duchess of Terra Nova, who was camera major to the wife of Charles II., told her majesty plainly, that the queens of Spain must not look out of the windows of the palace. There happened to this princess an adventure, which, by the forinalities of the etiquette, had like to have lost her life. The queen was very fond of riding, and several fine horses having been brought her from Andalusia, she had a mind to try one of them; but she had no sooner mounted, than the proud steed began to prance and caper, and at length threw the royal rider; and what was worse, her majesty's foot hitched in the stirrup, and the horse dragged her along, to the utmost peril of her life. All the court were spectators of this unlucky accident, but nobody had thought of succouring the queen: the etiquette formally opposed it; for it forbid any man whatsoever, on pain of death, to touch the queen of Spain, and more especially her foot. We do not know why her foot, rather than her hand, should be prohibited; but, in short, that was the law, and therefore nobody durst approach her. Charles II., who had a great love for his queen, and who, from a balcony, saw the danger she was in, cried out vehemently; but the custom was inviolable, and the untouchable foot restrained the grave Spaniards from intermeddling in so delicate an affair. At length, two brisk cavaliers,

A young

one named Don Louis de las Terres, and the other Don Jaine de Sotomajor, resolved to hazard all in spite of the law of the queen's foot. One seized the bridle of the horse, and the other laid hold of the queen's foot, and took it out of the stirrup; and, in rendering her this service, displaced one of his fingers. When this was done, the cavaliers took the advantage of the confusion this accident occasioned, and, without stopping, went home, got their horses saddled, and fled from the punishment they had incurred, for daring to offend against so strict and so august a custom. The queen, recovering from her fright, desired to see her two deliverers. lord, their friend, told her majesty that they were obliged to fly the country to avoid the punishment they had merited. The queen, who was a French-woman, and knowing nothing of the prerogative of her heel, and probably without this fall had ever remained ignorant of it, imagined it a very impertinent custom to punish men for saving her life. In short, she, by much entreaty, obtained their pardon from the king her husband. But notwithstanding the restraint laid on them by the etiquette, the queens of Spain have been fond enough of gallantry, which helped to rid them of a troublesome and ridiculous yoke. The wife of Philip IV. (if we may credit the historians of those days) had a liking to the Count de Monterei, and she was at a loss how to make him sensible of it. The etiquette was now fixed, which settled the ceremonial to be observed with regard to the king's amours; but no mention was made therein with respect to those of the queen. The princess could find no better expedient than to drop a paper out of her hand one day when Monterei was giving her an account of an affair with which she had charged him. He took it up, and, with one knee to the ground, presented it to her: "Perhaps," says the queen, “you imagine this paper to be of importance. I will have you judge of it.”. The count therein read these words: “ I spend the night without rest, alone, dull, forming of desires : my pain is a martyrdom, but such as I take delight in." The count (who never imagined that a queen of Spain

could stoop so low as to discover the tenderness of her heart) seemed not to understand the meaning of the letter, and perused it in a cool manner, so natural to a Spaniard. The queen, observing his indifference, grew outrageous, and, with spite and indignation, snatched it out of his hands. Go,” says she,“

you may justly say, Domina non sum dignus.”

SECRETS OF CABALISM. There appeared at Spa, in the year 1720, a young gentleman, whose fine figure and good equipage created what is now called a great sensation. He had all the wit and learning of that day; talked to the ladies of the plurality of worlds in the style of a junior Fontenelle, and quoted Montesquieu to the gentlemen. He dropped one day from his pocket an extract from Voiture's correspondence which furnished half the petit-maitres of Spa with pretty billets during the season. Then he affected great knowledge of state-mysteries : shook his head when Prince Eugene was named; hinted at Queen Anne's love for her brother; and said something strange about the French lady whose accouchement took place in King James's palace, and was foster-mother to his heir-apparent. As there is remarkable sympathy between similar characters, the Chevalier Valamour, as he chose to call himself, became very intimate with an obscure watchmaker in the suburbs of Aix-la-Chapelle. If this recluse had been the Emperor Charles V. in his watch-making frolic, he could not have known more of men and manners. He had also a surprising familiarity with the names of learned physicians, and now and then dropped mystic phrases of cabalistical import. He had a daughter whom he secreted in a corner of his miserable house, and guarded with the most anxious care. Our chevalier was duly fascinated with her beauty, and took all the pains required in the beginning of the eighteenth century to recommend himself. Not that

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