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gleesome words to the bursting joyousness of her which will overpower me sometimes, you must not little heart. It was scarcely strange that Minie mind me." felt no painful anticipations with regard to Walter ; It was several minutes ere Florence could reply; but it certainly was, that Mrs. Leslie should have but as quickly as she could, she reverted to those been so completely unconscious of his danger. treasured manuscripts, beseeching him to let her Yet so it was, he suffered apparently so little, his read them, it was so long since she had done so. mind was so bright, so strong, so unfailing, that with a faint smile he acceded. Florence, herself, though he regained no strengih, his mother could was surprised ; never had it seemed to her that not believe the near vicinity of death. She had such beautiful imagery, such glowing thought, been so many years hovering herself on the such touching pathos had breathed so powerfully threshold of that awful bourne, and still she passed in his compositions before. A new spirit appeared it not, that she could not realize it with regard to 10 have lighted on them; they were mostly deher cherished, her gifted boy.

tached pieces, forming, indeed, a treasured volume. To Florence alone, the whole extent of calamity He showed her, too, the beautiful designs with hanging over them appeared revealed ; she could which it was to be illustrated; and Florence no not shake off the conviction that her beloved longer marvelled at the burst of agony wrung brother was in truth“ passing away,” that the sum- from him by the thought, that these emanations, mer would return with all lovely things, but find not of no common genius, must pass away and be the poet there.

forgotten ; but even she guessed not the real reason One day, about the middle of February, Florence of his longing, and the poet betrayed it not. returning some hours earlier from her daily avoca- “ I dreamed," he said mournfully," when in all tions than usual, prevailed on her mother and the glow and heat of composition, that I was Minie to accept the invitation of a friend residing bequeathing a glorious gift to my country, wreathing further in the country, and remained alone with my name with immortality. I seemed to forget her brother ; several manuscripts were lying on a all the difficulties, the impossibilities, which pretable near him, but, as was sometimes the case, he vented the attainment of my darling wish; but had sunk into a sort of dose, and fearing to dis- now dearest, now I feel it is a shadow that I have turb him, she sat down to continue Minie's work, sought, a vain, shapeless shadow; it needs inwhich lay on a table in the recess of a window, Auence, wealth, or, to say the least, a name, and I half hidden by the curtains; for nearly an hour she have neither --no, no, they must die with me. heard no movement, but then aroused by the “ Die l" murmured Florence, almost inaudibly, rustling of paper, she turned towards the couch and she paused in deep and mournful thought ; Walter was glancing over his manuscripts, and“ but if you were strong and well, Walter, would there was a deep Aush on his cheek, a sparkle in you not make some effort yourself? at least ask the his eye, giving eloquent answer to the thoughts he opinion of some good publisher ; it might not then read.

be so impossible, as it now seems." “And will ye, too, perish ?" she heard him “If I were well, oh! Florence, I should do murmur, as if wholly unconscious of her presence; many things, and this would be one of them, I “Will ye, too, fade away and be forgotten, when own"; but I dare not think of this," he added the mind that has framed, the hand that has hurriedly, and evidently with pain ; " the struggle traced ye, shall lie mouldering in the grave ? will for submission has been mine only too lately. no kindly spirit throb and bound beneath your I know not how to trace, to love, the mandate that spell; no gentle heart find in ye an answer ? Oh, chaineth me, a useless burden, to my couch, when blessed, indeed, is that poet's lot, who wins the every exertion is needed to support my beloved moapplause of a world, the love, the reverence, the ther, and my helpless sisters ; and yet, oh, Florence! blessing of the gifted and the good! who feels morning, noon, and night, I pray to see and feel he has not lived, nor loved, nor sorrowed in vain! this; for my better spirit tells me that good it But the poet, to whom these things are all denied ; must be, or it would not come from an all-loving who passeth from this beauteous earth, unknown, God.” unloved, his name with his body buried in the “ And He will grant us both this blessed trust, cold, shrouding folds of death. Father ! oh, my in his own good time, my brother ; but in this case, father, have mercy on thy child !" and covering his dearest Walter, let me act for you, trust the MSS. face with his spread bands, Florence beheld him to me, and let me endeavour to do with it as you give way to a burst of such irrepressible agony, would yourself.” that the hot tears made their way between his Her brother looked at her with affection and transparent hands, and his attenuated frame shook astonishment. with sobs.

“ You know not the difficulties you undertake, Trembling with sympathising emotion, Florence my Florence," he said; “how many hopes will be sank back in the chair she had quitted ; she longed raised, only to be disappointed ; how much to throw herself on his neck, to beseech him to be fatigue encounteredcomforted, to breathe of hope, but she felt she o I care not,” was her instant answer; “I am dared not; at length, and unable to resist the so accustomed nowto independent wanderings, that impulse, she glided forward and knelt beside him. even the crowded streets of London have lost their

Florence, my beloved sister ! oh, I have ter- terrors : do not fear for me; and if I should succeed, rified you, I forgot your presence, imagined Walter, dear Walter, what would previous disapmyself alone; dearest, heed it not, I am better pointments, previous anxiety be then ?" now, it was bodily weakness, only weakness, The beaming countenance of the young poet was her truest answer, and once the precious MSS.

STANZAS FOR MUSIC. deposited in her hands, Florence permitted no difficulty to deter her; weary, and often exhausted

BY DAVID LESTER RICHARDSON. as she felt from seven, sometimes eight successive hours passed in teaching, she would not return Oh, lady, in that voice of thine home, till she had accomplished something in the fur- Is magic most enthralling ; therance of her trust. Conquering even her extreme Yet, syren, all those notes divine repugnance to walking about the metropolis after Are but to ruin calling, the lamps were lighted, it was often near eight in

Ah me! the evening before she returned home. Even there, That tones, like music of the spheres, every nerve was tightly strung, that she might not Should cheat the truest heart that hears ! evince the least fatigue, or appear desponding; for

Ah me! the anxious glance of her brother awaited her ; the hope she had excited lighting up his pale cheek and beautiful eye with the seeming glow of health.

Oh, lady, cease those liquid notes,

The soul of passion wooing ; Yet both mutually avoided the subject. Florence

For never thy rich music foals, dreading to impart all the disappointments, which she did, in truth, encounter; and Walter, from

Except for man's undoing.

Ah me! physical weakness, absolutely failing in courage to

That sounds so sweet and soft as those ask a single question, well knowing that were there

Should break for aye the heart's repose. hope to give, Florence would not continue silent. It would be useless to linger on the disheartening

Al me! task which the devoted sister so cheerfully under took; but at length her perseverance seemed about to be rewarded. (To be continued.)

THE CHILD'S INQUIRY. “Oh, tell me, mother"

“ What is't, my child ?

Inquirest thou of the feats of death,

The brave hearts chill'd by its icy breath ?

Inquirest thou of the silent tomb,

The blighted flower in its summer bloom ?

Or, wouldst thou hear of a happy shore, Though my youth hath fled by like a dream of which the rod of oppression ne'er waveth o'er ?"

the night, Whose beauty may greet me no more ;

“Oh, tell me, mother" The heart that haih sought for its Maker aright,

“ What is't, my child ?" Finds little in age to deplore !

“ Mother, last night to my bed there came" The seasons may change, and the springtide decay, Angels' forms in a shining flame; And the storms of the winter may rage ;

Their voices were shrill, their robes were bright; But the band that hath saved me through many I fearfully gazed on the beings of light, a day

And, when they closer came to my view, Is the hand to console me in age.

I shudder'd, alas ! for one form I knew;

It resembled that which thou dost wear Though my youth hath fled by, still there lives in In thy bosom, bound with thy own dark hair. my breast

It spoke, and to me these words did say, A feeling which time can outlast;

"My child, I bless thee,' and vanished away; As the sunset sheds beauty long, long in the west, Oh, mother, why dost thou linger here, When the prime of his glory is past.

And furrow thy cheek with the constant tear? Oh, bless'd be the time I selected those flowers, Why dost thou not seek that spot of rest, Which a future of love might presage;

Where thou mayest be with beings so blest ? For the feelings then cherish'd now hallow the

Thou'lt find one amid that heavenly Ibrong hours

Like the miniature worn in thy bosom so long. That bring blessing and joy to my age.

Oh, tell me, mother" And at last, when the steps of my life totter slow,

“ Stay, stay, my child. May my heart nature's warning receive ; The forms that gladden that radiant sphere And calm and resign'd to its destiny go,

Have dwelt awhile in sadness here. Nor sigh for the world it must leave.

Do thou (like they have done) seek thy God; But with faith in the promise of Him who hath Tread thou, my child, in the paths they trod. said

And when ihy spirit would take its fight, Thy frailties on earth be forgiven ;

The angel who came in thy dream last night, May ‘my spirit yet trust, through that hope of Who to thee has its guardian blessing given, the dead,

Will bear thee, my child, with joy to heaven !" To meet with its loved ones in heaven!


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A note, 'lis from her mother, stay

What fairy spell this luck has brought her ? Lord Glenroy sought of me 10-day

Permission io address my daughter;
Wisdom, he said, and worth, and grace,
Were all that he in wedlock heeded,
And, in a reasonable space,
Dear Constance to his suit acceded.”

Wordsworth and Moore she doats upon,

Southey she holds in veneration; I, of all poets, deem but one

Worthy remembrance or quotation ; He does not lightly, idly, sing

Of dazzling eyes, and tresses sunny, But says “the worth of any thing

Is just what it will bring in money.” Titles enrapture not her ear,

She does not shrink from detrimentals, Scarcely she seems my words to hear

When I discuss estates and rentals : Their owners I present, and then

She shows a preference for others, Chats sociably with married men,

And sings duets with younger brothers.

Amazement-what, the rich young peer,

By all the stylish world commended, He for whose hard from year to year

Beauties and heiresses contended ; Tle to whose fiat Almack's bowed,

No titled belle would have refused him, And has he singled from the crowd

A bride to whom I introduced him?

She does not manage well her shawl,

The witching waltz she never dances, She does not comprehend at all

The system of half words and glances. In attitudes she cannot stand,

Whene'er an "eligible” gazes, She has no sarcasms at hand,

When listening to a rival's praises.

Dear Constance-she recalls, no doubt,

With gratitude my well-meant chidings; The chariot I must Order out,

And spread abroad the happy tidings; And I shall lay no trivial stress

On my own skilful tact, maintaining That half my sweet young friend's success

Was owing to my careful training.

Within her album, General Grey

Wrote lines of love. fraught lamentation, Which any court of law would say

Amounted to a declaration :
They wanted metre, sense, and rhyme,

But could she not some favour show 'em ? Why need she in a moment's time

Extol Montgomery's new poem ?

I shall declare that hearts resist

All forward efforts to subdue them, And say, with some old dramatist, “ Men should be coy when women woo them;" Deplore the wiles of vain coquettes,

And wonder what such arts are taught for, And hint that girls, like violets,

Should only be displayed when sought for.

Long in our opera-box, last night,

Sir Harry Gayton chose to linger, While she, in rapturous delight,

Thought only of her favourite singer; He touched her arm, he spoke, he sigh’d,

I hoped—my hopes were soon diminish'dThus, io my horror she replied,

Hush, ihe Polacca is not finish'd !"

Customs will alter, I expect,

And every chaperon and mother Next season will her charge direct

To look one way, and row another; Blushes shall to a premium rise,

And Airts abjure their trade for ever, Now Flymen's richest lottery prize

Is drawn by quiet Constance Trevor !

THE DAUGHTER OF PERICLES. of shades. Amid the confusion and terror which

reigned at Athens, the friends of many of the BY N. MICHELL, AUTHOR OF "THE TRADUCED,” &c. deceased had neglected to supply them with the

piece of money * necessary to secure a passage

over the Tartarean river; consequently Charon The notions of the ancients, as regarded the refused to admit these unfortunates into his boat. immaterial world, and the abodes of happy or Among the children of the renowned Pericles, condemned souls, may appear to us preposterous ; victims as well as himself to the dreadful malady yet it must be granted that their fables are above alluded to, was one daughter, a girl of sureminently beautiful, and some of their conceptions passing beauty. She had caught the plague while the most grand and striking that the mind, ministering to her stricken lover, who, creeping to unassisted by revelation, ever gave birth 1o. the banks of the Ilissus to die, had been forsaken

It may be too generally imagined that the story by all but her. The young man was a soldier, of Tartarus and its fiery streams, with the rivers but dissipated in his habits, and a scoffer at the Styx and Acheron, over which the souls of the gods of Greece. Clymene, however, while aware departed were conveyed, originated with the Greek of his culpable conduct, had loved him with a writers; the idea was Egyptian; but it was amplio devotedness known only to woman; with the trustfied and improved by the lively people of Attica, fulness of her sex, and the hope of youth, she felt and invested with all the fascinations of poetry. confident she could work a reform in his nature.

Long ages before Athens or Sparta rose, or Conon returned the girl's pure and exalted pasHomer wove his Mythic fancies, across the lake sion; he loved her as the good genius of bis Acherusia, in Egypt, the bodies of the dead were destiny; and this amiable and softened feeling borne; the boat was termed Baris, and the ferry- was the solitary redeeming virtue, the only green man, Charon. On the banks of this lake was oasis, so to speak, in the desert of his character. established a tribunal of forty-two judges, who The Athenian had breathed his last in the arms examined the past actions of the deceased, and of his betrothed, and Clymene sickened and died pronounced the sentence that justice seemed 10 the same day. demand. This was an actual ceremony, and wit- The two met on the shores of Acheron. Ah! how nessed by the living. The more poetic, or perhaps different that black strand, and foul sluggish stream metaphysical, Greeks carried the solemn rite be- from the bright-glancing river, and Power-crowned yond the grave. Over their Acheron passed the banks they had left! They entered Charon's boat spirit, in its new and immortal tenement; their in company with several others, and were ferried Charon was invisible to human eyes; and their over to the opposite shore. There sat, on their judges were beings of another world. The Turtar solemn thrones, the judges of Hades. They were of the Egyptian (a ditch into which the body of men who never smiled, yet who themselves had the condemned was thrown, without the privilege been once subjected to human frailly, and had of burial), was converted by the Greek into a known human passions ; and this experience renregion of suffering, where the spirits of such culo dered them the more capable of passing judgment prits as Tantalus, Ixion, the Danaides, and others on the late inhabitants of the earth. were tormented for ever.

And the ministers of solemn aspect proceeded Nevertheless, the idea of that blissful region for with their task. Some were condemned to the the virtuous, termed Elysium, seems purely refera- pains of Tartarus, whose adamantine walls, as far ble to Greek invention. The sombre Egyptian as the eye could reach, stretched away, engirdled could not revel in dreams of happy and sun-bright by the burning Phlegathon. Oibers were to be islands, with Aowers that never faded, and music borne to the Elysian fields, there to revel for in every breeze. His notion of an hereafter, if he eternity in innocent pleasures, and luxuries that possessed any, was as melancholy and dark, as his should never pall. religion was full of gloom, and entirely confined Conon and Clymene, in their turn, stood before in its symbolical and hieroglyphical mysteries to the thrones; the former with head erect, and the knowledge of the priests.

proud mien; the latter with downcast looks, and The following sketch may have been transcribed trembling at the anticipated sentence. The beauty from a scroll of parchment lately found in an of Clymene, refined from all the dross of earth, obscure corner of the Parthenon at Athens, where, attracted many eyes; her golden bair floating in for an unknown number of centuries, it escaped rich masses over hier polished shoulders; her cheek the notice of the several conquerors of that city, suffused with the hue of immortality, and the very

air around her appearing to gain light from her faultless, glowing form, she looked more like a

young goddess who had just glided thither from It was the time of the great plague which Olympus, than a being whose home had been the devastated Athens, in the days of Pericles, that dim and perishing earth. most brilliant of Greek orators himself fell a And the actions of the two lovers were laid bare victim ; and each day the young and the old, the freed man and the slave, were sent in crowds to Hades. Never since the slaughter at Thermopylæ, or the desperate battles of Marathon, Mycale, and * This piece of money was the obolus usually Platæa, had such multitudes stood on the shores placed by the Greeks in the mouths of their des of Acheron waiting to be ferried over to the land parted relatives.

to those immortal eyes that read the souls of men. " What! accompany him to Tartarus ? thou And thus the judges of Hades spoke :

know'st not what thou sayest. Torments are there “ Proud Athenian! thou hast 'lived on earth to of which thy earthly nature can form no concepgratify thy own senses rather than benefit thy tion." fellow men. Thou hast done grievous wrong to “ I will brave them 10 be near Conon.” the divinilies of Greece, inasmuch as thou hast “ Look at yon river, which rolls and boils in fire refused to bend thy knee in the temple of Minerva, around the dreadful place! Behold those adaman. the tutelary goddess of thy city; and hast derided tine walls, sweeping away into infinity, their the sacred oracle at Delphi. Thy abode must be summits lost in clouds! Once within, even within yon burning walls; and á million years of Jupiter himself could not deliver thee !" torment may scarcely expiate thy crimes !" « If Conon is to remain there for ever, I would

The haughty Conon spoke not, still gazing in remain also." calm defiance on his judges; but a shriek broke “Hark! on the infernal blast ye can hear the from the lips of Clymene.

yells of Tityus, whom a serpent has been torment“ Fear not, gentle maiden; thou hast loved ing for a thousand years. Ye can hear the whir of blindly, but not with a criminal love. The sacri- Ixion's wheel, which carries him round and round fice thou didst make in tending that plague-stricken with dizzy velocity, for ever and ever. That sharp man, evil though he be, was pleasing to the gods ; cry is the voice of Tantalus, tortured without thy many virtuous deeds have won thee grace ceasing by burning thirst. Think of the miseries Behold, the car waits to waft thee to the bowers of within those walls, and rejoice to ascend the heaven !"

chariot which will waft thee so soon to scenes Then a nymph approached, and placed a crown which are as delightful as these are horrible." of Alowers sparkling with the dews of Elysium “I will not enter yon chariot without Conon." upon Clymene's hair, and they beckoned her to “ Daughter, we love thee for thy august father, enter the diamond car, to which were yoked winged Pericles' sake, or thy impious obstinacy, and de horses of light.

fiance of the gods, would constrain us even to take But the maiden moved not ; no smile of joy thee at thy wish, and send thee to the place of broke over her face; she guzed silently on her woe." judges, and then on her lover; she slowly ap- Then Conon spoke : proached the latter, and sank into his arras.

“ Be merciful to her, ministers of Hades! Give “ Daughter, let thy farewell be brief !" said the her the draught of oblivion now, and she will no voices from the sombre thrones.

longer resist your will." “No, no," sobbed Clymene; “I cannot say “ That may not be other hands than ours must farewell. I have loved in life, and must love administer to her the soothing waters." through eternity. Elysium will scarcely be Ely- « Conon, dear Conon! I say again I will sium to me; one thought will poison all its joys - endure all torments rather than lose the memory the thought of Conon's torments here !"

of past happiness, the recollection of our love. “Rash-speaking girl, know'st thou not that Kind judges, hear me! If any poor deeds of before entering the bowers of bliss, thou wilt mine have won me the favour of the gods, let my obtain forgetfulness of the past thou wilt drink reward be, not the bowers of Elysium, but a of the stream of Lethe?"

place near Conon in Tartarus ; where, if I may The daughter of Pericles started, and her face not embrace him like this, I may see him, hear wore an expression of agony it had not betrayed him, pray for him, and by kind words mitigate his before.

anguish. “ Oblivion! Forget all that made existence • Thou canst not abide within the flaming walls, dear! Think no more--feel no more-my sweet and not be tormented also." sorrows, my long love passed away for ever? Oh! " Then let me be tormented ! Give me all your banish me from your Elysium ! Talk to me of tortures !" torture beyond that endured by the most afflicted With increased energy and desperation, Clymene in the regions of the suffering, but tell me not that raised her clasped hands, and then she tore from I must forget!"

her brow the chaplet of flowers which the nymph "Poor child !" exclaimed the judges ; "the had placed there, symbolical of a happy, pardoned gods pity, and forgive her; she speaks from the soul. impulse of human passion. Thou must form “You tempt the gods; you provoke their other and purer ties than those which bind thee to wrath. But enough we depart from our office that evil man. Mount the car !”

in arguing thus with a being of earth. For the But Clymene beeded not the command; the last time, daughter of Pericles, hear us. Abandon feelings of earth, and the faithfulness of woman thy earthly love; go whither the gods invite, to a swayed her devoted soul; and she clung to the land of flowers and chrystal streams, of melody doomed Athenian, whose features relaxed from and joy; or cling to that man of crime, and in their sternness, while he smiled upon her. darkness and woe be content to pass the cycle of

“I reverence the gods," she cried ; "and I will eternity. What say you ? Answer!" worship them unceasingly; but, oh! do not part Conon softly whispered to the agonised girl, me from him whose love is more to me than my “ Abandon me—be happy, dear one ; let me sufown soul's welfare or bliss. If Conon cannot be fer alone." admitted to Elysium--if he must suffer I ask She raised her eyes imploringly to the judges, only to be near him."

and then stretched her arms towards the far horizon,

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