Chamberss Edinburgh Journal, No. 427 | Page 6

business in flowers, fruit, and needle-work proceeding smoothly and
satisfactorily. There is much attractiveness in the virtue and
good-behaviour of youth; and Julia, handsome, intelligent, modest, and
sweet-tempered, soon became the favourite of all who knew her.
The peasantry of France have, from ancient times, maintained the
custom of publicly demonstrating their esteem of any young female
member of a community, who, in her progress from childhood to
adolescence, or rather to womanhood, may have given evidence of the
possession of any unusual amount of amiability and cleverness. Young

girls who are deemed worthy of public recognition as examples of
virtue and industry, are waited upon by the villagers on a fête-day, led
forth, seated on a throne of flowers, crowned with roses, blessed by the
_curé_, and presented with the honourable title of _La Rosière_. The
custom is graceful and poetical; and the world hardly presents a more
charming spectacle--at once so simple and so touching--as the
installation of a _rosière_ in some sequestered village of France. The
associations connected with it are pure and bright enough for a Golden
Age. All who take part in the little ceremony are humble people, living
by their labour; the queen of the day is queen by reason of her industry
and virtue; they who do her such becoming and encouraging homage,
old and young, lead lowly and toilsome lives, and yet have the innate
grace thus to evince their reverence for the best qualities of human
nature. The pageantry of courts, and pompous crowning of kings and
queens, grand and splendid as they are, have not such spiritual
fragrance as these village queen-makings; soft glimmerings and
shinings-through of the light of a better world--a world with which man,
let conventionality disguise him as it may, always has some
sympathies.
For three years, the exemplary Julia had continued to support her
helpless parent and little sister, when, in accordance with this custom,
the good folks of the hamlet determined to shew their appreciation of
her estimable qualities at the next fête, by crowning her with roses, and
enthroning her with the usual ceremony in the Grande Allée. In the
meantime, Victor Colonne, son of the steward of the château, happened
to pay a visit to the poor widow's cottage; and thereafter he came again,
and again, and again, courting Julia Gostillon.
But Victor and Julia were not made for each other. He was thriftless,
idle, dissolute--the small _roué_ of the neighbourhood: she was careful,
industrious, virtuous. He was good-looking--of a dark, saturnine beauty,
insidiously impressive, like the dangerous charms of a tempter; she was
radiant and lustrous with the sweet graces of modesty, innocence, and
intelligence. Julia, however, young and susceptible, was for a time
pleased with his attentions. Persuasive powers of considerable potency,
and personal attractions of no mean sort, were not exerted and

prostrated at her feet entirely in vain. Ingenuous, trustful, and
inexperienced, she listened to the charmer with a yielding and delighted
ear, and was happy as long as she perceived nothing but sincerity and
love. It was but for a time, however. The Widow Gostillon liked not her
daughter's lover. Of more mature perception, of sharper skill in reading
character than her child, she conceived a deep distrust of the airy smile
and studied gallantry of Victor Colonne. She took counsel with matrons
old and circumspect as herself; made herself acquainted with Victor's
history; watched his looks, listened to his words narrowly and
scrutinisingly; and, day by day, felt more and more strongly that she
liked him not--that there was mischief in his restless eye and soft
musical voice. She communicated her fears to Julia, told her the history
of her suitor, and bade her be on her guard. Julia was startled and
distressed. These suspicions checked the brightness and little glory of
her life, and settled wanly and hazily on her soul, like damp breath on a
mirror. But they served as points of departure for daily thoughts. Looks
and words were watched, and weighed, and pondered over with wistful
studiousness; and while Victor believed his conquest to be achieved,
his increasing assurance and gradual abandonment of disguise were
alienating him from the object of his pursuit. Julia had accompanied
him on different occasions to the château; been presented to his father;
and had been seen, admired, and kindly spoken to by the Comtesse
Meurien and her daughters. Victor had lost no opportunity of
strengthening his suit by stimulating her ambition and pride; but it was
without avail. Though pleased for a time, she soon discovered that he
was cold, heartless, and even dissolute. The intimacy betwixt them was
fast relapsing into indifference, and, on her side, into dislike, when a
certain _dénouement_ of Master Victor's notorious love-makings,
accompanied by disgraceful circumstances, determined her to put an
end