deemed a crime?” I said this almost involuntarily, and merely by way of comparison. I had no ulterior meaning, nor the least idea that one could be developed by my mother, except a reference to an unjustifiable partiality. I was undeceived, when she added, in a voice that chilled my blood, “There is a great difference between you.” “Yes, Madam, he is your favourite.” “No, I take Heaven to witness,--no;” and she, who had appeared so severe, so decisive, and so impenetrable before, uttered these words with a sincerity that penetrated to the bottom of my heart;--she appeared to be appealing to Heaven against the prejudices of her child. I was affected--I said, “But, Madam, this difference of circumstances is inexplicable.” “And would you have it explained _by me_?” “By any one, Madam.” “_By me!_” she repeated, not hearing me; then kissing a crucifix than hung on her bosom, “My God! the chastisement is just, and I submit to it, though inflicted by my own child. You are illegitimate,” she added, turning suddenly towards me; “you are illegitimate,--your brother is not; and your intrusion into your father’s house is not only its disgrace, but a perpetual monitor of that crime which it aggravates without absolving.” I stood speechless. “Oh! my child,” she continued, “have mercy on your mother. Has not this confession, extorted from her by her own son, been sufficient to expiate her offence?” “Go on, Madam, I can bear any thing now.” “You must bear it, for you have forced me to this disclosure. I am of rank far inferior to your father,--you were our first child. He loved me, and forgiving my weakness as a proof of my devotion to him, we were married, and your brother is our lawful child. Your father, anxious for my reputation, since I was united to him, agreed with me, as our marriage was private, and its date uncertain, that you should be announced as our legitimate offspring. For years your grandfather, incensed at our marriage, refused to see us, and we lived in retirement,--would that I had died there. A few days before his death he relented, and sent for us; it was no time to acknowledge the imposition practised on him, and you were introduced as the child of his son, and the heir of his honours. But from that hour I have never known a moment’s peace. The lie I had dared to utter before God and the world, and to a dying parent,--the injustice done to your brother,--the violation of natural duties and of legal claims,--the convulsions of my conscience, that heavily upbraided me, not only with vice and perjury, but with sacrilege.” “Sacrilege!” “Yes; every hour you delay the assumption of the habit is a robbery of God. Before you were born, I devoted you to him, as the only expiation of my crime. While I yet bore you in my bosom without life, I dared to implore his forgiveness only on the condition of your future intercession for me as a minister of religion. _I relied on your prayers before you could