the hope of finding an alleviation to their various calamities. What if you were to ask the saintly man’s aid and holy advice? If nothing else, his prayers would at least recall your former tranquillity.” The countess favoured this proposal. Wrapping herself in pilgrim’s weed, she went to see the godly anchoret, told him her sorrows, and, presenting him with a rosary of fine pearls, implored his benediction. The blessing she received was so effectual, that before the closing of the year the countess was completely released from her melancholy, and cheered by an heir. The birth of the pretty boy made the whole county the scene of bliss and rejoicing. The father gave him for name, “Reginald, the Child of Wonder.” He was beautiful as the god of love himself, and his education was attended with such care, that it would lead to the belief that the aurora of philanthropic institutions had already shed its lustre upon the horizon of Germany. He grew merrily, to the joy of his father and consolation of his mother, who guarded him as carefully as the pupil of her eye; but although he being the favourite of her heart, she did not lose the remembrance of her three daughters. Many times, when pressing the little smiling Reginald to her breast, a tear fell upon his cheeks; and when
