“As soon as Count Galvez had finished his extraordinary tale, I summoned my servants, in order to clear myself from a suspicion which afflicted me severely, and examined them rigorously in his presence. It was, however, proved that my horses and carriages, as well as my servants, had been at home at the hour when the Count was carried off, which rendered it very probable that the Unknown must have imitated my equipage and livery, in order to ensnare the Count with greater ease.
“Your tutor enquired much, and with great affection after you: I told him as much as I knew, but he was not satisfied with it. The following morning he departed for Lisb*n, in hopes of meeting you there, after a long and painful separation. I rode on horseback by his carriage in order to accompany him a few miles; the impatient desire of seeing you soon made your tutor urge the postillion to press his horses onward; the fellow was offended at the incessant solicitations of the Count, and drove slower, which vexed our friend to such a degree, that he exhorted the postillion rather warmly to proceed faster, adding some menaces. The postillion being provoked by your tutor’s threats, whipped his horses furiously, without taking proper notice of the neighbourhood of the precipice, which you will recollect; the animals grew wild, and the carriage was precipitated into the abyss. The Count scarcely breathed, when he received assistance, and the postillion was dashed to pieces against the rocks.
“I ordered instantly all possible care to be taken of our friend; however, a violent vomiting of blood, the consequence of a contusion on his breast, put an end to his life the subsequent day. A few minutes before his death, he wrote the following note, but was soon interrupted by a fainting fit.
“‘Ere while we were separated by men, but now we are going to be disunited by God. I do not murmur; yet I should have been happy to see you once more. On the brink of eternity I am expanding my hands, blessing thee, excellent young man! Weep not at my death; we shall meet again in yon blissful mansions, where all good men shall be reunited for ever. Honour my memory by keeping firm to my principles, which from my soul, flowed over in your mind.’”
Two mortal wounds like those which the ill-fated love affair, and the death of Count Galvez inflicted on the heart of my friend, confined him to a sick bed. Now happened what I had dreaded, without my having been able to prevent it. Alumbrado, who was returned from his journey, intruded on my friend, and soon traced out the safest road to his heart. My friend was weak enough to communicate to him the situation in which he was with regard to Amelia; and Alumbrado hesitated not a moment to procure him the consent of his father. The power exercised by that man over the Marquis was so great, that the latter suffered himself to be persuaded to write to the Countess, and to invite her in the most honourable and flattering manner, to render his son happy by giving him her hand.
(To be continued.)
ON HYPOCRISY.
Mr. Addison somewhere observes, that hypocrisy at the fashionable end of the town, is very different from hypocrisy in the city. The fashionable hypocrite endeavours to appear more vicious than he really is; the other kind of hypocrite more virtuous. The former is afraid of every thing that has a shew of religion in it, and would be thought engaged in any criminal gallantries and amours, of which he is not guilty. The latter assumes a face of sanctity, and covers a multitude of vices, under a seemingly religious deportment. There is a third sort of hypocrites, who not only deceive the world, but very often impose upon themselves. These different kinds of hypocrisy cannot be too much detested. The first is a flagrant depravity of mind, which induces a man to prefer the appearance of vice to virtue, and despicable to an amiable character. The second disgraces and abuses virtue by assuming her resemblance; the last, though not more criminal, is more dangerous than either of the former, as it is accompanied with mental blindness, and self deception.