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pression, if one may so term it, which she determined to / whole household, and the public in general, kept up correct by bestowing more attention on her outward the same everlasting discussions about the strangegraces than she had hitherto done. She resolved on ness of the young people's behaviour to each other. devoting some portion of her time to riding and dancing, The courtiers wondered how the Prince had come by to pay more attention to her toilet, that, at any rate, his fiery temperament—his passionate and impassioned the Prince should become aware that it was a graceful disposition. Serenissimo, said they, was so very serene. woman whom he was about to lose, and not a mere child. Serenissimo's mind had ever been like a sheet of ice ;
Thus argued vanity. Then reason whispered, what it had no light or shade, no depth or height ; it was signified the opinions of a person so very indifferent to one frigid surface. She was regulated like a piece of her ? Then came the natural reflection that, after all, Dutch clock-work ; still they traced the Prince's vivaso long as the law had not dissolved the bonds that city wholly to her ; inasmuch as the courtiers observed bound them, they had a right in each other—that all she had always shown herself impressionable to music, addressed her as though she exerted that right over the especially to the clash of trumpets and the roll of drums, Prince's heart and opinions. After all, she was his wife. to which she never failed to beat time with her head It was, indeed, dream-like ; bat so it was. Though she and fan. Now, music was known to act on the nerves, had not exchanged a thought with him since their mar- and was likely to have an unfavourable influence upon riage, still they were married. This idea took strong unborn princes. The Duchess had never presented a possession of her mind, struggle as she would against it. snuff-box, ornamented with real diamonds, but to a Then, again, if she could be sure of success, it would be fiddler. The whole body of courtiers resented the fact very cruel to refuse compliance with the Duchess' | to that very day, and maintained that this inordinate desires of attempting to save the Prince from his passion for music was the sole origin and cause of the headlong career of passion and folly. But Helena's future sovereign's evincing a temper so unlike that of womanly pride rose up in arms, and warned her of the his august parents. impossibility, in her peculiar position, of making the The Princess' daily improvement in look, mamers, slightest advances. Still the Duchess' advice rang in and dress, her evident love for and grace in the dance, her ears, and had some, though most secret, results— her artless yet growing consciousness of her increasing secret even to herself. Thus she often now watched the charms, became the subject of general remark. But Prince from behind the closely-drawn curtains, as he these newly-budding perfections sprang up unheeded in mounted his fiery charge, managing him with a grace the Prince's path, as do the field flowers beneath the and skill she could not but admire ; but so guarded her tread of some careless passer-by, who neither notices movements on such occasions, no keen observer, far less their fragrance nor their bloom ; and the child was fast one so preoccupied as the Prince, could have detected disappearing, and making way for the beautiful and her. If, perchance, meals brought them together, which, thoughtful woman, without his becoming aware, so blind from the increasing frequency of her husband's absence is prejudice, of any, even the slightest change. Thus from home, and hers from the family-table, was not sped the winter, and the leaves were budding forth very often, even whilst assuming an absorbed look, she again, the more gratefully to all beholders that the attentively listened when he spoke, and was surprised to German winter lasts so long and returns so soon, that mark how little his mind corresponded with that of his its short absence is a tenfold relief ; the songsters of parents. She could not but notice his manly bearing, the wood again made the air joyous with their notes of his decision of character, his good looks and youthful fire welcome ; still all remained as before, and the days ---qualities she had until then either denied him alto- passed away in their wonted monotony, gether, or overlooked from sheer inattention. She felt, The Prince alone had matured a great idea. She too, that his conduct towards her had not been devoid of whom he loved should not, he had long since determined, generosity--e had not stooped to deceive--and had dwell any more in a hut, as much beneath her deserts respected her just resolutions. She began to think well, as unworthy of his gallantry. He had held long conand, what was more, to think much of him ; though she sultations with his trusty friend and aid-de-camp on permitted no one to become aware of the fact. And this subject, but yet, to brave the Duke, his father, whilst she was thus rapidly improving her opinion of her openly, he dare not, and to build some secret bower of husbanıl's merits, all who approached her fancied she had love such as he had often dreamed of, was an underdiscarded him altogether from her thoughts. She often taking that required more money than he had at his sat in the recess of her favourite window, in her rose disposal. Besides, he dreaded the eclat that would unbroidered boudoir, gazing with curious eyes on the dis-avoidably attend so great an enterprise. But in his tant landscape ; and her looks more especially sought to constant beat through the forest, chance at last threw pierce the darkness of the wood, whither she would what he sought in his way. attempt to trace the hurrying figure of her lord, and The forest, divided and subdivided by many names, ask herself if it would not be a sweet thing to be thus skirted and wound round the chain of mountains that beloved in the silent shades of the evergreen forest, far partly bounded, and partly belonged to, the Duke's from the trammels of etiquette ; and then torture her territory; now clothing their sides, now covering their imagination to conjure up the countenance of the Prince, summits, now spreading far across the plain for miles animated and softened by tenderness—that countenance upon miles of country, now receding into dark ‘mystewhich she never beheld but clouded with discontent. rious dells, now invading the silent depths of precipices.
The winter passed heavily for all in the palace The dark mass had once extended, as a garb of pride, except herself. Busy with the accomplishments she over the whole land, and was but slowly and partially was desirous of acquiring, and still more with her yielding to the power of civilization, and the increas ng vivid faucies, time did not bang on her hands. The wants of an increasing population. These forests, guarded by most severe game regulations, and troops | noiselessly and swiftly, unchecked by any more formid. of foresters to enforce them, were a chief source of able obstruction than a chance pebble. On either hand amusement to their royal, or electoral, or ducal, or even extended a wide margin of short velvety grass, on whick, less exalted possessors. Whether lay or clerical, all lying in the shade of the antique trees, were often seen, took the same unlimited pleasure in the chase; and especially towards evening, when the lengthening shawhen one considers the loveliness of the forest scenery dows were cast across the mossy road, and all was husked of Germany, here mountain bound and wild, there ren- but the rustle of the leaves, or the crash of their own dered sweet and smiling by lonely lakes concealed bounding kind through the brushwood, herds of will within its secret folds, like some fairy held in leafy deer ; and when warned by approaching sounds of the prison, with ever and anon some break opening on a presence of man or beast, they would spring back i vast expanse of field, so suddenly revealed as to charm their leafy retreat, just far enough among the under the more, in a land so rich in Nature's choicest beauties, wood to conceal part of their forms, but part onls. the Nimrod taste of the inhabitants has at least an Here and there a snow-white hart, with head prouds apology which in less-favoured countries it often wants. thrown back, swelling throat, and many branching
At a considerable distance from the town the trees antlers ; a little farther, a timid doe, with soft eros assumed more majesty of bulk and height, and grew at and delicate limbs, might be seen watching the intruder greater distances from each other, until they formed from behind a treacherous bush that concealed them not into a long, large avenue, that seemed to be the undis- from view. The sweet exudations of the firs, the breathing turbed growth of centuries. It run on for miles up a stillness all around, made this place a paradise, aud smooth, soft, turf road, along which the wheels revolved thither the Prince often wandered with his train.
(To be continued.)
THE STUDEN T.
BY E, M, FORDHAM. “Could we but reckon the number of young lives annually injured or destroyed by the overstraining of their mental powers, our readers would scarcely believe us ; but certain it is that the midnight lamp could, if it has a tongue, «unfold' many 'a fearful tale' of the destruction of life and energy, and decay of health, that it has sanessed.”-Froin an old Newspaper. Gleaming with a sickly light,
O'er the dense forests, too, its sound was borne, Through each long hour of midnight,
And the brown leaves of autumn seemed to mourn,
And the seared flowers in the copsewood curled
And shivered, as its sullen tones went by.
0! it is sad to gaze upon the world,
And feel its brightest things may droop and die ;
To know a bright, blue sky is o'er us bending,
And glorious sunlight on the earth is shed,
Ever while the deep and solemn knell is sending
Through the clear air a tolling for the dead !
The dew fell heavily, when sunset's smile
Passed from each grave-stone and its grassy mound ;
And round the proud cathedral's dusky pile
The wind was whistling with a dreary sound.
And through the vaults of death, so dark and damp,
It came and went, unfelt, unheard by all,
Even where, enfolded in his sable pall,
Lay the young Student of the midnight lamp.
Glory upon his pathway had been shed,
The wreath of fame had bound that graceful head;
To go thus honoured to his early tomb,
It still was grief to feel the frail links sever
That bound him to a life, even tried as his ;
Alas! it still was grief to leave for ever
That little he had known of human bliss.
All in his pale and ghastly vestments clad,
With those whose hearts were pulseless as his own, Years, since that brilliant moonlight night, had flown, His look, if sad, was still so gently sad ; And day-light's last and melancholy smile,
And on his brow so little change was shown, Through casement frames of grey and crumbling stone, His rest, as yet, was marked with scarcely less Lit a cathedral's dim and solemn aisle.
Than sleep's own look of peace and loveliness, So sadly, too, and mournfully upon
Yet, it that eye could raise its heavy lid, Pillar and arch, and architrave, it shone,
To look back on the loved spot of its birth, It almost seemed as if its light had caught
And if that mind could feel, as once it did, A tinge of human care, of grief and thought,
A kindred spirit of the quitted earth ;
Even if in his short sojourn he had felt
To those dear earthly homes where he bad dwelt,
And sigh to cheer the anguish and despair Reckless alike of human weal or care,
Of those whom he had left to mourn him there, Each in his last and lightless home enclosed,
Until they, too, the weary path had trod, The dead, the pale, unheeding dead reposed.
That leads us to our resting-place, and God.
FAITH AND HOPE ;
OR, THE HIGIILAND CABIN. Loud howl'd the wind ; keen swept the blast
Yes, Janet, all that I have known Along that bleak, wild, Highland moor ;
For years of good is due to thee; Whilst leaden clouds stooped down to cast
Thy well-tried love, dear child, I own, Thick flakes around each cabin door,
ilath soothed me 'midst my penury; Until the low peat walls became
Thy father was my first-born pride, Half buried 'neath their drifting load ;
The first to lisp a mother's name; And all things seemed en wrapped the same,
He sank beneath the stormy tideNor trace of pass, or path, or road.
To fill his vacant place you came. Ah! madness 'twere to venture forth
Yes-bless thee, sweet one-half the tears To brave that mighty, wint’ry gale ;
I shed but now were for thy sake! Dark rushing from the chilly north,
For death a darker aspect wears 'Twill bring of wreck and death a tale !
Since mine must thee more lonely make.
Thou bid'st me. hope, and pray, and trust,'. Such was the scene without ; but yet
But who will shield thee, Janet, thenWithin that hut 'twas gloomier far ;
As this worn frame doth turn to dust? For there grim Want his foot had set,
Ah! sad inust be the moment when, A happy home to blast, to mar :
First driven from this old roof-tree, A stinted fire still marked the hearth,
A wand'rer thou art forced to flee !" (Or, rather heaped upon the floor), Whilst from the smould' ring blocks of earth
The maiden's ruddy lip had pressed The thick brown smoke in volumes pour,
In silence that wan withered cheek, As if the vapour strove to shade
Then crouching at her side to rest, The drooping forms by anguish bent;
In gentlest tones she turned to speak :For there a meek, young face did fade,
“Dear mother, cheer thee! better hours Whilst raised to Heav'n her pray’r upwent,
Will come again ; let us endure So deep, so fervent, that she seemed
This trial whilst misfortune low'rs ; Like to some virgin saint of old ;
For have we not the promise sureAs Faith and Hope around her gleamed,
That God's own hand will prop and stay Or sighs, half-checked, of suff'ring told.
The widow, orphan, in their need? Then ever and anon she turned
Drive, then, such dark’ning thoughts away, With anxious eye tow'rds one more lone ;
For he will still the hungry feed; One whom the voice of comfort scorned
The humble lily owns his care-An aged, helpless, stricken crone.
Why should his children shrink with diead ? The dame she rocked her to and fro
The faithful, too, his bounty share ;Within her wicker chair ;
Lord, give us still our daily bread!' Her mutt’ring voice breathed sounds of woe,
The dame repeated, faint and slow, Her eye bespoke despair ;
Those sacred words; then, whisp’ring low, Her very life seemed turned to gall,
She seemed as one constrained t'impart And thus ber boding accents fall :
The terrors of her stricken heart. “Howl on ! howl on, ye dismal winds ! Such tones are meet for scenes like this,
“Our daily bread !-'tis all but spent, Where gnawing famine refuge finds,
Though piously thou would'st conceal And death can scarcely come amiss !
That with a morsel thou’rt content Four score twelve years have come and gone
So long as I'm reserved a meal. (A little space now that 'tis sped)
Ah! can I watch without a pang Since first earth's dawn upon me shone,
That pallid cheek and sunken eye? But now 'tis night--aye, joy hath ted!
Worse to endure than famine's fang; And was it on this very day,
For oh ! 'tis mental agony!" Three score and ten short years ago,
“ Hush! mother, hush! I cannot bear That Donald fetched his bride away
Desponding sighs from one so dear ; To share his chequered lot below ?
Our fellow-men have not forgot The bagpipo called a festive band,
The scourge that desolates this spot. Re-echoing up yon llighland glen ;
'Tis God's decree ; yet we'll receive For plenty smiled upon our land,
Succour from those who such can give."
" And hath it come to this, that I Seemed all a paradise to me;
Must live on charity, or die? More prized than e'en our chieftain's balls,
That thought my very soul doth crush ; For, Donald, they were shared with thee!
Child, ours was once a mighty clan, Years rolled apace, and with them came
That onward to the charge dių rush, Fresh blessings, for a smiling crew
Obedient to one high-born man Of urchins clustered round their dame ;
(Our chiet)--and why? Strong ties of blood Nor want we felt, nor discord knew.
Ran through each vein ; each hardy Gael Ah me! such bliss could never last;
Might gladly look to him for food ; Ay, sorrows came to press us sore;
Whilst his did last, ours ne'er could fail. Till, one by one, those dear ones past,
But oh! those olden ties are rentAnd left me, to return no inore !
Those faithful hordes are scattered wide; All vanished ! whilst this heart was torn
A princely fortune, reckless spent, With anguish—widowed, seared, and chilled.
liath ruined all this country side. Oh! better had I ne'er been born,'
No more the pibroch wild shall call Since bitter dregs my cup hath filled !
Each clansman on to victory ; Nay, chide me not with mute caress,
A Southron claims our chieftain's hall, Poor orphan ! fain thine eyes would say,
(Sad, sad, I close my history.) That one at least my soul should bless
These broad lands teem with guarded game Ere that it bursts its house of clay.
(The badger slumbers in his dens)
We know of justice but the name
'Tis glowing flushed ; then mark the changeThey're barring up our very glens.
A death-like hue around doth range. The deer-herds through their forest range
'Tis past! th' unrivalled sight is gone, For man alone is found no space!
Leaving that glorious, pure, white throne. Child, marvel not I feel the change,
Such tints the maiden's cheek suifused,
As on her mother's words she mused.
A tear had trembled on her lid,
Then back the doubting drop was chid,
For Allan's name for her did sound
The dearest chord that earth had found.
Foreboding thoughts from her did Ay
As thus she framed her meek reply :-
“Our vows were softly spoken; Far, far from us he may be kind,
We asked no earthly token ;
For love so true
Fades not in hue-
Once plighted, ne'er 'tis broken.
“ His eye sought mine so fondly;
His voice was tuned so sweetly ;
Such sounds are dear
To woman's ear-
They're treasured ever deeply.
“Hope lulls me when I'm sleeping ; And fragrance breathed through mist and dew ?
She greets me when awaking ; Those blossoms scarce were dried and gone
Like angel bright
She glads my sight,
With flowers my pathway strewing.
“ If there's a joy enduringYet cach seared root will freshly spring
A pleasure worth securing,
Sure it must prove
In mutual love
To one our all confiding.
“Like pure white heather blooming,
Where northern skies are glooming, “ Trust on, sweet child, for surely ne'er
So shall e'er be Did young heart throb mid scenes more drear;
My love for theeYouth buoys thee up; and that bright guest
Oh! tarry not in coming!" Would bid thy soul securely rest. 'Tis well, for he to whom thou'st sworn
She ceased her soft, wild, rustic air ; Thy faith is tardy of return.
The dame's lips moved as if in prayer. I like it not, for well I ken,
Perhaps that well-loved voice prevailed Vows slightly bind the wills of men.
Where words of comfort all had failed. Allan may seek for other ties,
The door on noiseless hinge had turned, Some English home, 'ncath softer skies,
The peats again more brightly burned, Unmindful that the mountain flower
Whilst through the cabin's smoky sereen Blooms sweetest through misfortune's show'r.”
A manly form was dimly seen. As when the traveller, awed, doth gaze,
Perchance the wand'rer's foot had stayed
To listen to that mountain maid ;
For, shining by the flick'ring light,
His dark cye glistened with delight.
Was cast aside. My tale is told-
of verdure much
As Janet to her lover clung, brighter in hue than the fields of which they formed a
Until her blushing face did rest, part. On inquiring the cause, we were told that each of
Half hidden, on his throbbing breast. those viviil spots marked the locality where a cabin had been razel to the ground. Numbers of the inmates thus
Then came, in trembling accents broken, ejected proceeded to Canada, and, we rejoice to find, have
Each dear loved name-half hushed, half spoken ; prospered in their new homes. (See "Hochelago,”' &o.)
Proring, when with emotion fraught, If, indeed, some method cannot be devised of pro- Sounds faintly shadow forth each thought. viding remunerating employment for this class at home, But pass by love's still endless theme it seems greatly to be desired that many more families To where the dame beheld the scene; should be similarly disposed of. Canada, and the fertile Nor long ere Allan sought her seat, and rising colonies of New Zealand and Australia, can With kindly words her car to greet:yield bread to more than the thousands now languishing or dragging on a miserable existence at home.
"Mother, this blessed hour repays + When watching (during clear frosty nights) the burn- The toil of many weary days. ing of wiile tracts of heather, we felt that nothing could
See! these bright pieces, how they shineexceed the grandeur and beauty of the forms taken by the
They're Janet's, therefore they are thine. sheets of flame. Once, in partienlar, when the hill-side
Yes! I may claim that dear girl's vow ; above Gare-Loch-Head suddenly seemed to ignite and take
Two children, dame, will watch thee now! the appearance of an enormous palace, illumining the mountains bebind, and then reflected in the calmoloch
The fury of the storm is spent, beneath; yes! like to a fairy dream, the whole scene as
My heart reposes here content; sumed the aspect of enchantment, such, indeed, as to
For well I know my Janet still baffe all description,
Will woman's holiest task fulfil.
From the confidential habits that have grown these will have every chance of enjoying salmonup between our courteous reader and ourselves, fishing in perfection ; and, from the information during the progress of this long undertaking, we we have had, we understand that the gentlemen, scrupled not to tell him that it was written with who pay a large rent for the angling, are most
he pencil. A like consideration induces us now liberal in the manner in which they grant perto inform him, that since our last fasciculus went mission when they are properly applied to. to press, we have been compelled, in consequence Just before quitting the confines of Roxburghof what we hope will prove a merely temporary shire, the Tweed receives the classic stream of malady in our eyes, to discontinue writing alto- the Eden, which enters it from the left bank. gether, and to avail ourselves of an intelligent This river rises from a part of Berwickshire ; and, amanuensis, to whom we may dictate the matter passing through Mellerstain, the fine old resithat we have to produce. The reader will per- dence of George Baillie, Esq., of Jerviswood, ceive an obvious inconvenience in this, which, and through a richly-cultivated country, it enters however, chiefly affects ourselves, and which we the parish of Stichell, belonging to our friend are not aware has in any degree injured the Sir John Pringle, Bart., where it produces a stream either of narrative or description.
pretty little romantic sceno, by throwing itself Like a gentleman of large fortune, who has over a precipitous rock of considerable height. just received a great accession to it, the Tweed, The spot is called Stichell Lynn. The right having been joined by the Teviot, leaves Kelso bank is here occupied and ornamented by the with a magnitude and an air of dignity and im- beautiful pleasure grounds of Newton Don, one portance that it has nowhere hitherto assumed of the most charming residences in this part of during its course, and which it will be found to the country; and the mill, miller's house, and maintain, until it is ultimately swallowed up by other buildings which stand close to the fall that grave of all rivers--the sea. A few miles on the left bank, combine to produce an interestbring it to the confines of Berwickshire, and in ing picture.
Alas! there is a tale of woe its way thither it passes through a rich country. attached to this scene, the occurrence of which The most important place upon its banks is that we are just old enough to remember. The late Sir of Henderside Park, the seat of our friend Mr. Alexander Don, of Newton Don, had two sisters, Waldie, who has a large estate here. But before whom we recollect as beautiful blooming girls, full coming to his residence, we cannot help noticing of the highest life and spirit. They were just of a small place, merely for its name. It is called an age to be brought into fashionable life, of Sharpitlaw, and it furnishes a strange proof how which they would unquestionably have been ornaSir Walter Scott must have treasured up such ments. We remember them in Edinburgh under names for his particular occasions, since we find the charge of their mother, Lady Harriet Don. this most appropriately applied to the procurator- Having gone to spend the summer and autumn at fiscal in his “ Heart of Mid-Lothian.”
Newton Don, they took with them a young lady, In regard to the angling here, we find, on Miss Ramsay, a friend of theirs, as a companion. reference to Mr. Stoddart, that "immediately The three ladies, on their return from a walk on below Kelso commence the Sprouston fishings, the left bank of the stream, and having suddenly rented, along with the ferry, a couple of miles heard the dinner-bell ringing at the house, bedown the river, by Thomas Kerss, a relative of thought themselves of a set of stepping-stones, Old Rob's at Trows, for about seventy pounds which enabled a person on foot to cross the river per annum. These, in connexion with the salmon dry-shod, a little way below where they then casts belonging to John Waldie, Esq., of Hender- were, and they accordingly made their way down side Park, embrace the following streams and the bank, in order to avail themselves of them. pools :—Hempside Ford, the Bank, the Grain, Now, it so happens that an instantaneous flood is Winter Cast, Mill-stream, Mill-pot, Butter-wash, produced in the river, by the operation either of Bushes, Scurry, containing the well-known Pri- turning on or off the mill sluice—we at this son Rock, Dub, Milo-end-falls, Eden-water- moment forget which. The three ladies had foot. Mr. Waldio's fishings begin at the Mill reached the middle of the stepping-stones, when stream and terminate along with the Sprouston the miller, altogether ignorant of their being casts." We believe that any gentleman getting there, had occasion to perform the fatal operation permission to have a day's angling on any of on his mill sluice, Down came the river like a