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He shook his head.

SYMPATHY. "Oh! let me stay with you then," sobbed the girl. “What are all other things to me, if you Hast thou not felt the kindred throb are not there? Riches ! homage! I should hate them."

The deep, the silent thrill intense “Think, think,” he repeated calmly, yet sadly, when the full soul sprang to the eye,

Of pure, of heart-felt Sympathy, "I have watched over you with a parent's care ; but there are other ties, and dearer, that will And met its twin-thought in another's glance ? meet you there; and you will soon learn, amidst Then hast thou revell'd in as deep the gaiety and happiness that will surround you, A luxury as angels doto forget ihe stern, gloomy man, who has hitherto Intelligences bright and high! guarded you, in the devotion of the young and Who echo back in heavenly response handsome."

The master-chord of Love, whose three-fold breath “Oh, cruel!" she cried, wildly; "you cannot First will'd them into being. This believe the words you speak ! If you would have Is true attraction-mind with mind ne live, let me be with you ever. You know not | Holding high commune when the lips are mute ! . how I will serve and worship you,” earnestly The law of gravitation this, pleaded she and long; but he heard no more than Which with resistless force bows down this, he pressed his hand to his forehead, and that Mere Matter all 10 mighty Mind noble expressive countenance and those swollen Eloquent Silence! Sull’is sweet, veins were the same that had stood on the deck of When from the vulgar buzz set free, the gallant ship some few years before; but if To give the imprisoned thoughts full vent, grief and wrong had then drawn forth those deep And let them on the snowy wing signs of feeling, now there was a look of inexpres- of chaste expression soar awhile, sible, unutterable joy, that almost stifled him. Then drop upon the bosom of a friend But when he remembered himself, he folded the winning companions in the heavenly strain, poor girl to his heart.

Until the goodly company“ like doves “No, we will never part,” he muttered ; and Unto their windows flee," and sit and sing bore the senseless form to the interior of the Even at the gates of Heaven ! cottage.

I have little more to tell, but that ere another week had passed, she became his bride; and a

GEMS OF THE EARTH. letter announced to those relations in England who had so long neglected her, that they were now too

The mountain-torrent, gushing late, for that she was bound by stronger ties than

Io majesty of might ; theirs. And as to the wealth that was destined for

The cheek of a maiden, flushing her, she rejected it with thanks; for happiness

Beneath the pale moonlight;

The bliss of a father, bending was hers, and that was more than gold could ever buy.

O'er bis first-born's glance of love ; Childhood's pure prayer ascending

To its Father's ihrone above.

The beam of morning Ainging

Its beauty o'er the sea,
The nole of the wild bird, winging

Its flight o'er hill and lea;
“ There is a spell.”

The joy of a mother weeping

O'er her prodigal's reclaim,
His repentant tear-drops steeping

The breast he once fill'd with shame.
There is a spell to mortals given,
A spell that bears control

The eye of poet, beaming
O’er every other passioned flame

Enthusiasm's light;
Arising from the soul.

The stars in their radiance gleaming
It charms us in our earliest youth,

In quietude of night;
As those loved moments Ay ;

The patriot's bosom, burning
It grows with our advancing years,

To sever his country's chain;
And binds us till we die.

The heart of a mother, yearning

O'er ber sick one's couch of pain. There is a spell. Oh, hearts that love

More, more yet gleams around thee,
Alone may feel its power ;

Glorious in Beauty's ray;
It perves the soul to brave the storm

Hath Care in her felters bound thee
In sorrow's sadd’ning hour.

Dost own no other sway?
Some say that it is madness;

Lo! Nature's hand would sever
But call it what they will,

The bondage dull earth may twine;
It dwells but in the kindest breast,

Oh! resist noi her kind endeavour,
And makes it kinder still.

And ihe “Gems of Earth" are thine.




between two towns, is sufficient of itself to show

that the termini at which they respectively stop We well recollect with what pleasure we used must be of more than ordinary importance. We to look at the Diorama in Street, and picture hear of a coach being started between Kandy and to ourselves fancied realities, which, alas, were Gampola, and it may, if inducement offers--and doomed never to have any existence. We see the why should it not ?-run on to the convalescent present, and the past is known; but the future is station of Nuwera Ellia. hid, and wisely too, from every human eye. The country along the Nuwera Ellia road is Nevertheless we can judge of the past, and com- very picturesque and romantic, and the climate, paring the present with it, form conclusions as to from and above Gampola, is delightfully cool. We the future, which will, in all human probability, were lately at Pussilava, some ten miles above come pretty nearly to the mark. It is in this Gampola; and it would cause no surprise to see, strain we would desire to make a few cursory re- in a few years, a town someibing after the model marks as to the future state of the interior of Cey of Nuwera Ellia springing up, the climate there lon, taking for our guidance a stretch on either is so delightful and cool. Indeed we know that if side of the present, to the extent of some ten or there were bungalows in that part of the country, twelve years.

people would prefer it to Nuwera Ellia, for two Twelve years ago the central province was one principal reasons, if there were no others, viz., from continued mass of huge forest, intermingled here Pussilava being just one half of the distance that and there with plots and fields of chena and grass. Nuwera Ellia is from Kandy, the fountain of the Jands. A paddy field, with a few cocoanut and supplies and commissariat; and from the air of bamboo clusters, denoting where the village lay Pussilava being more mild and agreeable to old beside the brook, might occasionally be seen in our Indians than the keen and sharp biting air of travels, and thus relieve the monotony of the scene. Nuweria Ellia. As for Gam pola, we have reason But beyond this, nothing was to be seen but to know that there will shortly be a lively town the denizens of the forest, still 100 frequently found there; the Government Surveyor is at this moment near many of the villages to this day—the elephant making out the intended streets and sites for threading his way through the dense woods, throw- buildings for the new lown. It already possesses ing down large trees by the mere weight of his one or two large stores, and a thriving bazaar. A body, and apparently thinking no more of them day hardly ever passes without there being some than a schoolboy does of walking through a field of half-dozen Europeans in the Rest House there.

When the trace between the 62 mile post (on the Kandy, the chief town of the interior, was at Colombo and Kandy road) and "Gampola is that time but a very miserable place; not a while opened, and which no doubt will soon be the case, face was to be seen there, but that of one of the seeing that two-thirds of it are nearly opened, and military, or a civil servant; and occasionally a consequently only three or four miles left to make glimpse was to be had of a planter-a solitary Gampola, it will bid fair to outstrip Kandy. We planier, the only one in the province in those days. do not mean to say that it will entirely outstrip But all things change, and so has this island in Kandy, because as long as the seat of Government particular. The face of the country is entirely is there, it will always retain the principal part of changed, and were any one to rise from the grave its importance. But this we say it will become who has been there since that time, and could see soon equal to it in many important ways; all the the altered appearance of the country, he would residenis of Pussilava, Rambodde, and the Bad. not believe his eyes. The province has become dola country, in Kotmalee and the Ambegamoa quite an agricultural one. The planters number district, will make it their head quarters. We shall no small body of the community. It is studded have the Governor having a residence there, houses with coffee estates, and there are one or two sugar built, churches set a-going—a Baptist chapel was estates, all yielding a rich harvest to their respec. opened on the 3rd instant and lastly, mail tive proprietors. It is intersected with roads, and coaches running between it and Colombo. --Ceylon the whole presents, quite an European aspect. Herald, March 1. Kandy itself is very considerably changed in appearance, and its bazaars transact business to the extent of several thousand pounds a month in supplies alone, which will show to what an increased extent the town has grown, exclusive of the demands of the military. Europeans have com- Perhaps, in the philosophy of the human mind, menced business; houses are being built; churches there are few things more wonderful than that are also in a fair way of being opened ; one, in- merciful dispensation by which the heart, bowed deed, has already been opened, and is well and and crushed by affliction, does generally rise numerously attended every Sunday evening. What after awhile from the stunning blow. Especially a pleasing prospect this to what was seen on the is it so in youth; for though that may be the first night it was opened, when there was only one season of keenest emotion, and the feelings European present, with some nalives! A mail cooled by experience and disappointment, may coach runs between Kandy and Colombo every be harder to receive impressions, they are also day, and the commercial community on the island, harder to n. The difference is almost equal hating monopoly, are now running another. The to that of the waxen image, and the graven stone circumstance of there being two coaches running which impresses it,





I stood beside a pallid child of woe, “ He is made one with Nature: there is heard Whose quivering lip and sorrow-sunken eye His voice in all her music."

Proclaim'd life's fitful, weary scenes below,

With haste were passing by. Hark! the blue and tideless waters seem a requiem I gaz’d with pity on that faded form, to sing ;

That like a wither'd rose appear’d to meSouthern breezes o'er thy pillow come in sadness Struck by the sudden shock of some rude storm, murmuring:

Past all recovery. Once thy heart took up the measure with its weight I mark'd the tottering step, the livid glare,

of sweetness fraught, Giving to its magic music all the mighty depth of Proof that the last dread enemy was there,

Sickness had wrought upon that sinking framethought.

With sure and deadly aim! Gentle songs thence came unbidden, by a glance or movement stirred,

I sigh'd, as deep reflection smole my breast Or a strain of mournful wailing born of cold and With sympathy for Nature's suffering child, careless word :

Who here, by every ill on earth oppress'd, Wild winds 'mid the leafy forest-whispers of the

Calm as an angel smild ! ocean wavem Cat'racts from the rugged mountain--all to thee I wept ; but O, those weepings were in vain ! some treasure gave.

Nought could avail to alter that decree,

Whose mandate call'd from dust its own again Thou did'st weave them with the shadows from the

To pure felicity! hues of twilight caught,

I follow'd, with the rude and motley throng, Blent with braids of summer lightning in a bed of This faded Aower, cased in a pauper shell; subtle thought;

And it was laid its kindred dust among Or with bolder hand unveiling Freedom's pinion

Without one kind farewell ! hovering nigh; With an earnest skill awaking, like some ancient I linger'd long beside that silent clay—prophecy,

Beside of other perishable things ;

Then saw, through faith, the spirit call'd away, Visions of the shrouded future, like as germs with

Borne on a seraph's wings. beauty rife,


W. RICHARDSON. Hid in gloom, are yet awaiting light to wake them

into life: Yet cold hearts did frown upon thee, scorning wealth they could not reach,

WHEN THOU SEE'ST A BARK. Deaf unto thy wild harp's music and the wisdom it could teach.

When thou see'st a bark Could the sordid mind interpret shadows of the

On the lone sea, sunshine born ?

Girt round by storm-clouds dark, Did they goad thy noble spirit to repay them

Think thou on me. scorn with scorn ?

When thou hear'st a moan As the suplight on the waters reacheth not the

On the still air, caves below,

Think 'tis the heart-wrung groan Reck they of the heart's drear caverns whence the

Of my despair. bright ihoughts ebb and flow?

When thou see'st a leaf Songs are hidden there that slumber till a breath can give them birth,

Fall, withering, Poets' dreams, like ocean flowers, that have known

Think of my silent grief no stain of earth ;

And suffering. But the fragile cell, that murmurs to the soft wind's

When thou hear'st a bell gentle sigh,

Toll heavily, Echoes to the howling tempest with a fearful

Think 'tis my last farewell

Breathed out to thee. melody. Many a loving heart shall linger o'er thy wild

But when thou see'st a star

prophetic strain,

Burst forth in light, Echoing thy harmonious numbers till the poet lives

In the blue space afar again :

Defying night, While the tideless waters wander, they thy monu- Pray thou that thus may cleave ment shall be ;

My soul its gloom, While the southern breezes murmur they shall Its heavy fetters leave breathe a sigh for thee!

In the dark tomb !



clothes for the poor-we mean fancy work! How many a girl has devoted as much time to the construction of a Berlin wool Ottoman, as that in

which, if so employed, she might have acquired a Editu LESLIE, A Novel; 3 Vols. (Newby.)— language--not to mention that her misplaced inAs this work is presented to the public anony-genuity has robbed some individual whose time mously, without ihe recommendatory ushering of and industry win her daily bread, of that portion “ by the author of so-and-so," and without even of her just revenue! How many a thoughtthat letter of introduction-a preface, we are to kindling, soul-elevating field of knowledge might presume it is the outpouring of some new candi- be sown and reaped while the wonderfully agile date for literary honours; to be won, as were fingers are threading beads, and the poor starving warriors' laurels by adventurous knights of old, brain compelled to the sad resource of counting without raising the visor. We are not by any them! And this goes on wasting youth, warping means sure that such a suspicion inclines a critic the narrow mind as middle age advances, till 10 be bland and courteous ; over piqued curiosity woman-oh! yes, she can embroider slippers, and sometimes stimulates to irritability, while the ab- make watch-guards, and bead purses, and spend a sence of grateful or loving recollections of former year in adorning a pocket-handkerchief! Oh! works keeps the critical eye clear—those same were head and hands but made for such purposes ? memorials being very apt io rise, like sweet but But we will return to our author's text. bewildering incense, before our mental vision when we look for a fault in the new work of a

“ Having comparative wealth, my child, why favourite author. To own the truth, we were

not perform a real and twofold cbarity, in giving quite ready to find fault when we opened the daughter? She is a nice work woman, and sub

This mantle to be made by old Pearse's bed-ridden pages of this book; yet, before we had cut the missive to your wishes in everything, besides earnleaves of half the first volume, we were won by ing money for which she would be very grateful. the earnest truthful spirit which pervades it, to that mood which, if it blames, can only do so in My remark on this occasion is principally suglove and kindness. We are sure it is by a woman.

gested from a fear that you might become a parThe shades of character are marked too delicately perpetuating a great original mistake, dexone

ticipator in mental delusion with those ladies who, to come from the rough painting of a masculine their lives to the never-ending business of making hand; yet if by a woman, and probably a young clothes for the poor, conscientious!y believing it one, she has felt much and thought more. In their duty; and permitting the latent hope of truth, we look upon Edith Leslie as the opening of being hereafter richly rewarded to influence their a new and rich mine, even more valuable in its actions like a creed; forgetting, while thus en. promises than its present outpouring. Constantly gaged, that they are losing the fruits of their early we come to passages-mere sentences, perhaps- education, allowing to lie dormant talents given which, glancing off to the details of the story, Them (if they will) for the essential soul-service of nevertheless give us a good bint of the ore there their needy brethren, for whom more permanent is from which to work. Who can give the plot of three volumes within the limits of a magazine and at the same time expressed by other exertions,

good might be effected by a few words well suited, column? We shall not attempt it. Quite enough made in behalf of their estate, than by all the that it is a story of the affections, which in all wool, or twice the cotton in the universe. It is the reality of emotions, has been acted over and over again, and will be, we suppose, to the “crack lean constitution will stare through purple robes.

easy to cover a naked body, but an intellectually of doom.” We have misunderstandings, trials of It the morals of our people were more generally constancy, and reconciliations; an Irish nurse, and charitably looked after by a better example

, most happily sketched; and a darling dog made a " character” in life, and whose death is a tragedy ; being whose nature might thus be reclaimed from

and consequently by better precepts, the human not to mention the history of Nelly's cat, Prim, evil in its most deformed shapes, could (with rare who, washing her face before the firé

, fills up the instances of exception) find means to clothe bimpicture of the cottage interior, when the story of the Banshee is told with all the “ elegant Irish | self, and content would reign in perfect serenity talk that Nelly could put into it, to give the same When will man stock the broad lands of the mind

before dethroned vice and abdicated despair. a charm,"

with common sense ?" Well as the interest of the novel is kept up, we look upon this merit, important though it The GRANDPATHER; a Novel. By the late be, as of far less amount as an evidence of talent, Miss Ellen Pickering ; author of "Tlie Fright," than the earnest love of the good and the true “The Grumbler,” &c. &c. ; 3 vols. (Newby.) which is constantly breaking out, the womanly -The reading a posthumous publication has spirit which pervades the whole, and the hearty always a degree of melancholy' attached 10 it, boldness which dares to attack many a prejudice. especially in the case of an author whose For instance, who will deny the truth there is in works are so justly esteemed as those of Miss the gentle reproof Mrs. Leslie offers her daughter, Pickering, and one whose age left so much on the occasion of her manufacturing a winter of future promise for weak-sighted mortals cloak for a certain Margery? Although we should to dwell on.

The present novel was left by its like a fierce crusade io be undertaken against a lamented author, or rather projectress, in an uba greater enormity and “ blunder” even than making finished state : to another hand, therefore, are we

indebted to the winding up of the story—that hand | sant sketches. The incidents in “ Heart," įhough being the practised one of Miss Elizabeth Youatt. many of them common-place enough, take fast In a short, but appropriate preface, she acknow. hold of the memory, dwelling there like the recolledges the assistance she has afforded, which we lection of pictures; while the chapter devoted to must own has been so skilfully rendered, that we “the end of the heartless," death in the howling have quite failed in discovering the page or chap- wilderness, belongs to the very highest order of ter where the thread was broken by the strong fiction, that of idealizing the real. hand of death; although, from the opportunities Miss Youatt's valued contributions to our own

FLOWERS OF MANY HUES. ORIGINAL POEMS pages have given us of acquiring an intimate BY VARIOUS AUTHORS. Edited by Frederick knowledge of her style, we had fully expected to Kempster. (Fulkner, Manchester.) – When we recognise, without' difficulty, her individual mention Sheridan Knowles, “ the author of Fes. touches. Indeed, we feel that the highest praise tus,'” Dr. Bowring, Mrs. Abdy, E. L. Blanchard, is due to her, for the manner in which she has car. and John Critchley Prince, as among the conried out the plan of a more than commonly in- tributors to this work, our readers may at once teresting story. Without her acknowledgment it surmise that it is a very agreeable volume. Au. would really be difficult to believe the unity of con

thors 100, whose names are at present less distinstruction had ever been disturbed ; so very care- guished, have contributed some poems of great fully are all the minor early details unwoven at the merit; and altogether this slim quarto, with its dénouement. The novel is of the domestic class, scarlet and gold, and beautiful type and illumiat'ording ample scope for heart-probing, and á nated title-page, is a pretty and acceptable draw. display of its mysteries. Ambition, love, revenge, ing-room table-book, which we suspect will keep are the passions which move the whole, weaving á its place for more than a season. “ The Wanchain of circumstances rather natural, and there- derer,” by Prince—a humble poet, whose genius fore interesting, than complicated and perplexing. is even yet too liule recognised, and whose history The character of Amy, from a child upwards, is gives an additional interest to his productionsbeautifuly sustained ; and her trusting love, con- would grace any collection of poems with which trasting with her lover's more suspicious nature, we are acquainted ; and the same may be said of increases the individuality of each. The precise, E. L. Blanchard's “ Past” and Mrs. Abdy's yet warm-hearted housekeeper; the worthy rector,

“ Pleasure Boats." These poems, however, are who " points to heaven and leads the way;" the all 100 long for extract, being at the same time interesting Dunorven ; and the statue-like Lady remarkable for a unity of purpose, which would Appe, who nevertheless does warm-all stand out be destroyed by offering fragments; thus, as we in one's memory like familiar portraits in a gal- are no advocaies for pulling down a house to lery; and we cannot but thank the author for an show a sample brick, we shall prefer giving some introduction to them.

“ Stanzas for Music," by C. B. Greatrex (illus. If only for the melancholy interest attached of trative of an Indian superstition), in which, to our being Miss Pickering's latest production, “ The mind, sense and sound harmonize with no ordinary Grandfather," we are aware, will be sought for degree of felicity. eagerly; but we can assure our readers its merits would alope be all-sufficient to secure its favour.

“ An Indian maid, with her zone of bells

Pleasantly ringing, pleasantly ringing, TALES AND SKETCHES FROM Real Life. By Came where the Ganges' billow swells, Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe. (Allman.)—A very

Merrily singing, merrily singing; nicely, got up little volume of cleverly written, She launched her lamp on the crystal tide, though simple stories, illustrative of American life. Rapidly flowing, rapidly flowing ; The influence of a healthy mind and high moral And she tarried awhile by the river's side, purpose is evident throughout.

To watch it going, to watch it going. Heart: A Social Novel By Martin Far- said the Indian maiden, smiling, See, quhar Tupper, author of Proverbial Philosophy. It is brightly burning, brightly burning! (Bentley.) –We are late in the day with this work, Then my lover, thank heaven, is safe and he for it was published, if we mistake not, simul- Will be soon returning, soon returning.' laneously with “ The Crock of Gold” and “The But suddenly now outwent the light, Twins," each of which we had the pleasure of in- With the wild waves leaping, the wild waves troducing to our readers a little time ago. There- leaping; fore it may be enough to say that “ Heart,” Then hope, with a smile, bade her heart good differing from those works in some respects, yet night, resembles them in simplicity of plot, in earnestness And she fell a-weeping, she fell a-weeping. of purpose, and in nervous command of language. As we said before, we love the touching story con- ( 'Tis thus, alas !' said the Indian girl, deosed into the compass of one volume, and be- Sadly sighing, sadly sighing, lieve that, but for the tricks of trade, authors That sweetly down Love's stream of pearl would often spare the public a few of the attenu- The heart goes Aying, the heart goes Aying ; ated, spun out pages, which make up the regula-On waters so fatal, yet ah ! how bright! tion thousand.' This story, however, does not

It can linger never, can linger never, occupy the entire volume, room having been made For it glides away like my lamp to-night, for a veritable ghost story, and two or three plea- And then sinks for ever, sinks for ever.

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