with tears? Was the tempest that had just past a signal of the
ruin which impended over me? My soul fondly dwelt upon the
images of my brother and his children, yet they only increased
the mournfulness of my contemplations. The smiles of the
charming babes were as bland as formerly. The same dignity sat
on the brow of their father, and yet I thought of them with
anguish. Something whispered that the happiness we at present
enjoyed was set on mutable foundations. Death must happen to
all. Whether our felicity was to be subverted by it to-morrow,
or whether it was ordained that we should lay down our heads
full of years and of honor, was a question that no human being
could solve. At other times, these ideas seldom intruded. I
either forbore to reflect upon the destiny that is reserved for
all men, or the reflection was mixed up with images that
disrobed it of terror; but now the uncertainty of life occurred
to me without any of its usual and alleviating accompaniments.
I said to myself, we must die. Sooner or later, we must
disappear for ever from the face of the earth. Whatever be the
links that hold us to life, they must be broken. This scene of
existence is, in all its parts, calamitous. The greater number
is oppressed with immediate evils, and those, the tide of whose
fortunes is full, how small is their portion of enjoyment, since
they know that it will terminate.

For some time I indulged myself, without reluctance, in these
gloomy thoughts; but at length, the dejection which they
produced became insupportably painful. I endeavoured to
dissipate it with music. I had all my grand-father's melody as
well as poetry by rote. I now lighted by chance on a ballad,
which commemorated the fate of a German Cavalier, who fell at