of body must undoubtedly have been a source of incessant suffering. “Alas! my dear friend,” he replied, “both my heart and my understanding refuse to subscribe to the ideas, by which you so kindly try to console me. I allow, indeed, that her frame was unhappy, and her health most delicate; but who had a keener relish of all the genuine pleasures which belong to a lively and a cultivated mind, and still more, of all those higher delights, which are at once the test and the reward of a benevolent heart? It is true, she had her foibles; but what right had I to sport with them?--to me they ought to have been particularly sacred; for she never looked upon mine, but with the most generous indulgence.” “Poor Harriet!” he would frequently exclaim,--“Poor aunt Harriet!” I have basely abridged thy very weak, but not unjoyous existence, by the most unthinking barbarity. I will, however, be tender to thy memory; and I wish that I could warn the world against the dangerous cruelty of jesting with the credulity of every being who may resemble thee.--_Hayley._ THE WIDOW. (FROM A VERY OLD TRANSLATION OF BOCCACCIO’S FALCON.) Among the multiplicity of his queint discourses I remember he told us, that sometime there lived in Florence a young gentleman named Frederigo, sonne to Signior Phillippo Alberigo, who was held and reputed both for armes and all other actions beseeming a gentleman, hardly to have his equal through all Tuscany. This Frederigo (as it is no rare matter in yong gentlemen) became enamored of a gentlewoman, named Madam Giana, who was esteemed (in her time) to be the fairest and most gracious lady in all Florence. In which respect, and to reach the height of his desire, he made many sumptuous feasts and banquets, joustes, tilties, tournaments, and all other noble actions of armes, beside sending her infinite rich and costly presents, making spare of nothing, but lashing all out in lauish expence. Notwithstanding, she being no lesse honest then faire, made no reckoning of whatsoeuer he did for her sake, or the least respect of his owne person. So that Frederigo spending thus daily more then his meanes and ability could maintaine, and no supplies anyway redounding to him, or his faculties (as very easily they might) diminished in such sort, that he became so poore, as he had nothing left him, but a small poore farme to liue vpon, the silly reuenewes wherof were so meane as scarcely allowed him meat and drink, yet he had a faire hawke or faulcon hardly anywhere to be fellowed, so expeditious and sure she was of flight. His low ebbe and poverty no way quailing his loue to the lady, but rather setting a keener edge thereon: he saw the city life could no longer containe him, where he most coueted to abide, and therefore betook himselfe to his poore countrey farme to let his faulcon get him his dinner and supper, patiently supporting his penurious estate without suite or meanes making to one for helpe or relief in any such necessity.