I mean Guardian Angels. A most erudite and clever academician, Mr. Alfred Maury, tells us in his charming book on “Magic and Astrology,” that according to Egyptian doctrines a special star foretold the arrival of every man in this world. In proof of this statement, he refers us to Horapollon, in his “Treatise on Hieroglyphics.” We infinitely prefer taking Mr. Maury’s own evidence; and he adds: “This creed exists still in some remote districts among rural populations, and especially in Germany.” It may be that in certain portions of Germany every man may still have faith in his star; we are willing to believe it, since he says so; but almost everywhere the star has been superseded by a Guardian Angel, the White Angel, as they call him, a far more tempting personage, and infinitely more intimate and sympathetic. The White Angel is much more than the _Genius loci_; it is in fact the _Genius personalis_. Without entering here upon a serious discussion, on the subject of Guardian Angels, whom the modern Church is disposed to ignore, we shall prefer {328}inserting here, as a complement to our chapter on Familiar Spirits, a legend, which we were fortunate enough to obtain directly from very truthful and very beautiful lips:-- “A white figure appeared before the young girl as she awoke. “‘I am your Guardian Angel!’ “‘Then you will grant me the wishes which I shall mention?’ “‘I shall carry them to God’s throne. You may count upon my assistance. What are your wishes?’ “‘O White Angel, I am tired of continually turning the spindle, and my fingers are getting to be so hard by constant work, that yesterday, at the dance, my partner might have imagined he was holding a wooden hand.’ “‘Your partner was that fine looking gentleman from Hesse? Did he not tell you that he adored your blue eyes and fair hair, and that he would make you a baroness, if you would go home with him?’ “‘White Angel, make me a baroness.’ “The evening of that day a young peasant came and asked Louisa’s mother for her daughter’s hand. The mother said, Yes. “‘White Angel, deliver me from this boor. I want to be a baroness!’ “But the mother, who was a widow, had energy {329}enough for two. The White Angel did not appear again; Louisa had to yield, and went on turning her spindle. “One day her husband, who was a hard-working man, had over-exerted himself and was taken ill. Louisa had seen her gentleman again. “‘White Angel, he loves me still. He has sworn he would marry me if I were a widow.’.... She dared not say more. Her husband recovered his health completely. The White Angel still turned a deaf ear to her wishes. She lost all hope of ever becoming a baroness. “Some years later Louisa was the mother of two beautiful children; she was fond of her husband, whose labor procured for her all that she needed, and when she thought of him and her two darlings, the spindle felt quite soft to her fingers.