through the silent streets, occasionally breaking off in the midst of a brilliant argument to shout and yell under the windows of some unfortunate citizen who had contrived to render himself obnoxious to them; or raise a rude chorus in honour of some chosen beauty whose dwelling lay in their road home, until they reached the church of St. Peter, one of the finest religious edifices in Belgium. It was a bright starlight night, and the streets were white and hard with the frozen snow, and still and silent as the grave, except the hollow whistling of the wind as it moaned and sang through the porticoes of the old church. The students involuntarily hushed their voices, and passed onward with a more subdued step, although none could have told why it was so. Stay! exclaimed Jans Durland, hastily, either my eyes strangely deceive me, or there is a human figure standing motionless beneath yonder lamp. No! by heaven I am right!» «Let us go,▪ whispered one of his companions, shuddering with fear; they say that evil spirits are abroad at this hour.. « Fool! exclaimed the reckless student, shaking off his feeble grasp, and advancing towards the object of his curiosity, followed by his companions. " A lamp burned dimly in the church-porch, by the feeble light of which a tall figure might be observed bending eagerly over a book. The face which thus partly illuminated, was pale, but earnest, and full of a strange beauty. It is Adrian! exclaimed the students, with one voice, while a crimson flush passed over the high brow of him they had thus suddenly surprised as he turned proudly towards them. " The mystery is at length solved, said he, while his flashing eyes sought those of Jans Durland. I was poor, too poor to purchase candles, and for months have pursued my studies here, or at the corners of streets, wherever there was a lamp by which I could see to read." « But the cold,» interrupted one of his companions; «how did you bear that? bear that? You must have been perished? » Adrian laughed wildly as he laid his burning hand on that of Jans, who had pressed nearer to him while he spoke. Does this feel like cold?" he asked. No! there is that within me which defies it, as well as all your sneers and mockery!" But none dared to mock him. The penitent Jans Durland clasped that scorching hand in both of his, and drew him gently on, while the rest followed wonderingly. From that hour Adrian and he studied together, and were like brothers; while a small sum of money, received a few weeks afterwards from an unknown hand, rendered him, in a measure, independent of his generous friend. During all this time his intercourse with his father had been very slight, and he contented himself with hearing occasionally that he and Esmeralda continued well. The kind protector of the latter, the iron-worker of Guelderland abovementioned, was the usual means of communication, his business compelling him to come to Louvain once or twice in the year, on which occasions he always brought some sweet message, or token from Esmeralda to the student. But now, as the time drew near for this periodical visit, Adrian was observed to grow restless and melancholy, and he talked a great deal to Jans of going to Utrecht in the spring, as if trying to persuade himself of the folly of some foreboding feeling of evil which pressed heavily on his heart. At length the old man made his usual appearance before the gates of the university, to ask for Adrian, the son of the barge-builder of Utrecht. The student flung down his book, and went out eagerly to meet him; but one glance at the pale and agitated countenance of the iron-worker was sufficient to confirm his worst fears. «Esmeralda is dead! said he, with great calmness. "You have heard of it then? » " Yes, I knew it!-but how-when did it come to pass? Tell me all ! » " Well, one day the poor child left home without saying a It word to any one, and it grew late before she returned. was a wild tempestuous night, and as I took off her wet cloak, VOL. IV. 59 and wrung the moisture from her long hair, I saw that the ornaments with which, in remembrance of her unknown home, she so delighted to deck it, were gone. At length, in answer to my repeated inquiries, she confessed that she had sold the coins to a Dutch trader. God knows what she could have wanted with money ! » Did she tell you how much she got for them?» asked Adrian, eagerly, and with white lips. The iron-worker named a sum which at once confirmed all the wild doubts of the young student. "Go on," said he, in a hoarse voice. " Well, from that hour she sickened and withered away;cheerful and hopeful to the last, she never seemed to think that she should die; but when the blow fell, at length bowed her gentle spirit meekly to the will of Heaven, and murmured not at its decrees. » But she spoke of me, father, did she not? » "Continually; your name was the last upon her trembling lips, which grew cold in blessing thee ! » The old man wept bitterly, but Adrian could not shed a tear. You think, then," said the student, after a pause of deep emotion, that she caught her death on that tempestuous night when she went to sell her little treasure to the Dutch trader? » "I am sure of it; you may remember she was always a delicate flower. » Adrian said no more, but from that hour a change came over his whole life. The remainder of this eventful history may be gathered from the annals of his native land. How by his own gigantic talents he raised himself to the high post of Vice-Chancellor in that university which he had originally entered a friendless and obscure wanderer; was chosen by the Emperor Maximilian, as preceptor to his grandson, afterwards the celebrated Charles V.; presented by Ferdinand of Spain with the bishopric of Tortosa; and after his death, elected co-regent with Cardinal Ximenes; finally, in 1522, on the decease of Leo X. ascending the papal throne. We are told that in after-life he became singularly rigid and austere in his habits, perhaps in consequence of the struggles and privations of early years; was much given to solitary musings, and seldom seen to smile. Who shall say how often that mighty spirit, in the very triumph of its selfcreated greatness, looked lingeringly to his humble home at Utrecht-danced once again in his dreams on the banks of the Rhine, or listened to the silvery accents of a voice which never ceased to haunt him. The only extravagance which we hear of Pope Adrian's indulging himself in, was a passionate love of old coins, which he spared no expense in collecting, although his successor seems to have attached little value to them. Some brass ones in particular, of simple appearance, and wanting even the charm of antiquity, were said to have been discovered upon his person when he died, and on being submitted to antiquarian research, found to be of very modern date. In the life of Adrian VI. we have a brilliant example of the triumphs that can be effected by the irresistible might of man's own mind and intellect in despite of the accidents of birth and fortune; and a beautiful and touching illustration of the vainness of all this to make us happy. The son of the barge-builder of Utrecht laughed and danced by the river. The poor Student of Louvain, as he studied at the corners of streets, or in the church-porch at midnight, was contented and even joyous; but Pope Adrian never smiled! Wordsworth has condensed every thing we would say on this subject into two simple and exquisite lines, to which it would be superfluous to add a single word : Oh! 'tis the heart that magnifies this life, The house where he lived at Utrecht is still shown to the traveller under the name of the Pope's House, but is now reduced to the state of a common inn. (NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE.) AN IRISH INSURGENT OF THE LAST CENTURY. It is a refreshing task to record an incident so opposite in character to those which too frequently stain the annals of 1798, and the succeeding spring; but, as it is not the only instance of high feeling in an Irish peasant, it must be considered as an occasional trait of character among a people who are not supposed to be over-indulgent to their enemies, however kindly they may be disposed towards their friends. At the first dawn of a spring morning, in 1799, a fine athletic young man, equipped in the usual frieze garb of an Irish peasant, aroused himself from his lair, in a furze brake, on a hill-side, in the county of Wexford, and, as he sprang on his feet, he hastily brushed away with his horny palms the thorns and seeds which clung to his soiled dress; while, at the same time, he looked around him with anxious searching eyes. But, as no living thing met his gaze, he seized hold of his never-failing coadjutor;-a good, stout, well-seasoned black-thorn shillelagh,-and began to wend his way towards the town of Newtownbarry. His trusty boxingstick he ever and anon clenched in his iron fist, while he gave it a rapid flourish round his head, as if impatient of seeking for a fit subject to exercise its toughness on. If I had that black hearted Orange villain, Colonel Ohere in my grip, may be I wouldn't give him his tay in a mug, he exclaimed, as he made the black-thorn whistle round his head with the velocity of an Australian's boommerang. « Och, bathershin maybe I wouldn't! »—and then another flourish of the black-thorn. The cheering influence of the opening day, so animating to all the living creation, |