this fair gem in the sky’s diadem, is not surely plague-striken—­perhaps, in some secluded nook, amidst eternal spring, and waving trees, and purling streams, we may find Life.  The world is vast, and England, though her many fields and wide spread woods seem interminable, is but a small part of her.  At the close of a day’s march over high mountains and through snowy vallies, we may come upon health, and committing our loved ones to its charge, replant the uprooted tree of humanity, and send to late posterity the tale of the ante-pestilential race, the heroes and sages of the lost state of things.

Hope beckons and sorrow urges us, the heart beats high with expectation, and this eager desire of change must be an omen of success.  O come!  Farewell to the dead! farewell to the tombs of those we loved!—­farewell to giant London and the placid Thames, to river and mountain or fair district, birth-place of the wise and good, to Windsor Forest and its antique castle, farewell! themes for story alone are they,—­we must live elsewhere.

Such were in part the arguments of Adrian, uttered with enthusiasm and unanswerable rapidity.  Something more was in his heart, to which he dared not give words.  He felt that the end of time was come; he knew that one by one we should dwindle into nothingness.  It was not adviseable to wait this sad consummation in our native country; but travelling would give us our object for each day, that would distract our thoughts from the swift-approaching end of things.  If we went to Italy, to sacred and eternal Rome, we might with greater patience submit to the decree, which had laid her mighty towers low.  We might lose our selfish grief in the sublime aspect of its desolation.  All this was in the mind of Adrian; but he thought of my children, and, instead of communicating to me these resources of despair, he called up the image of health and life to be found, where we knew not—­when we knew not; but if never to be found, for ever and for ever to be sought.  He won me over to his party, heart and soul.

It devolved on me to disclose our plan to Idris.  The images of health and hope which I presented to her, made her with a smile consent.  With a smile she agreed to leave her country, from which she had never before been absent, and the spot she had inhabited from infancy; the forest and its mighty trees, the woodland paths and green recesses, where she had played in childhood, and had lived so happily through youth; she would leave them without regret, for she hoped to purchase thus the lives of her children.  They were her life; dearer than a spot consecrated to love, dearer than all else the earth contained.  The boys heard with childish glee of our removal:  Clara asked if we were to go to Athens.  “It is possible,” I replied; and her countenance became radiant with pleasure.  There she would behold the tomb of her parents, and the territory filled with recollections of her father’s glory.  In silence, but without respite, she had brooded over these scenes.  It was the recollection of them that had turned her infant gaiety to seriousness, and had impressed her with high and restless thoughts.