with the holy water out of the basin that was near her. I had in the meanwhile approached closer, and, deeply affected by this simple and pious act of devotion, enquired of her softly, who it was that lay buried under this sacred and hallowed mound of earth?
“My mother!” she replied, weeping; and, concealing her face with her folded hands, she slowly pursued her way across the church-yard towards the town.
I could not, dared not follow; I felt how far preferable it must be for her to be left alone, and allowed the uninterrupted indulgence of her sad and pious feelings. Had she wished to have spoken to me, she would have remained and prolonged the conversation, for my question sufficiently indicated the inclination I felt to learn further about her. Of what use then to me, I said, was the strict rule of the hermit? I would fain have comforted her, and the interest I might have shewn would most assuredly have assuaged her grief, but she had defeated my charitable purpose; yet, to pursue, detain, obtrude myself upon her, I could not. Still I felt how right and just the venerable man had spoken, for as long as man felt he had failed in his duty, he never could be happy. I was melancholy and discontented with myself, though I must confess that the feelings excited by this adventure were not of that undisturbed pure nature which they certainly ought to have been.
Although it was dark, that had not hindered my remarking, from the outlines of her figure, her dress, and motion, so much nobleness, so much elegance and grace, that I could fain have wished to have exchanged a few more words with her; though still the brief reply I had received from her was sufficient to convince me that nought but filial love, piety, and innocence, could dwell within that bosom.—My mother!—these two words still seemed to sound within the deepest recesses of my heart; by the melody and the sweet accent of that voice alone, amidst thousands, after the lapse of years, I should have known her again. It would have been easy for me to have followed her, to have learned where she lived, and
