scarcely conscious of what had happened, to my lodgings, and was received with congratulations which I wanted not, mingled with admonitions as to my future conduct, which I despised.

I sought the privacy of my own apartment. The first object that met my sight was the figure of Carl Heiderflitcher, with his broad brimmed beaver. I was about to speak, but he motioned me to be silent.

"The threatened danger is past," said he, "I have saved your life, it yet remains to make your life worth enjoying. You love Lisette, the merchant's daughter, and are beloved by her; go to her father and make your proposals. I shall await your return."

I went, though with little hope of making any impression upon the purse-proud citizen. I saw him, and spoke of my love for his daughter; when he asked if I had 30,000 rix dollars.

A pretty question to a man who had never in his life been possessed at one time of fifty!

"I am not at present able to command that sum, but-"

"Then you may go about your business."

"Supposing," I said, "I should be able to raise that sum ?"

66

'Why, then, and supposing also that my daughter liked you, I might, perhaps, on inquiry respecting you, have no great objection to the match.

But in the mean time I wish you a very good morning."

I returned, cursing the avarice of the man, and the wantonness which had occasioned me to be sent upon this fool's errand. Carl Heiderflitcher was waiting for me. I recounted to him all that had passed.

"Humph-give me the box I lent you; you will have now no further occasion for it."

I took out the box.

"Empty it before you give it me."

I opened it to shake out the snuff, and there followed a shower of gold pieces, which lasted some seconds. I turned in amazement to the stranger; he was gone, having taken with him his box, which had dropped from my hand in my excessive and delighted surprise.

I gathered up the money and counted it. There was gold to the amount of 40,000 rix dollars.

I was married a fortnight afterwards.

LINES

On leaving a Scene in Bavaria.

BY THOMAS CAMPBELL, ESQ.

ADIEU the woods and waters' side,
Imperial Danube's rich domain !
Adieu the grotto, wild and wide,

The rocks abrupt, and grassy plain!
For pallid Autumn once again
Hath swelled each torrent of the hill;
Her clouds collect, her shadows sail,
And watery winds that sweep the vale,
Grow loud and louder still.

But not the storm, dethroning fast
Yon monarch oak of massy pile;

Nor river roaring to the blast

Around its dark and desert isle;
Nor curfew tolling to beguile
The cloud-born thunder passing by,
Can sound in discord to my soul:
Roll on, ye mighty waters, roll!
And rage, thou darkened sky!

Thy blossoms though no longer bright;
Thy withered woods no longer green;
Yet, Eldun shore, with dark delight
I visit thy unlovely scene!

For many a sunset hour serene
My steps have trod thy mellow dew;
When his green light the fire-fly gave,
When Cynthia from the distant wave
Her twilight anchor drew,

And ploughed, as with a swelling sail,
The billowy clouds and starry sea :
Then while thy hermit nightingale
Sang on her fragrant apple-tree,—
Romantic, solitary, free,

The visitant of Eldun's shore,

On such a moonlight mountain strayed
As echoed to the music made
By Druid harps of yore.

Around thy savage hills of oak,
Around thy waters bright and blue,
No hunter's horn the silence broke,
No dying shriek thine echo knew;
But safe, sweet Eldun woods, to you
The wounded wild deer ever ran,
Whose myrtle bound their grassy cave,
Whose very rocks a shelter gave
From blood-pursuing man.

Oh heart effusions, that arose

From nightly wanderings cherished here;

To him who flies from many woes,

Even homeless deserts can be dear!

The last and solitary cheer

Of those that own no earthly home,
Say-is it not, ye banished race,
In such a loved and lonely place
Companionless to roam?

Yes! I have loved thy wild abode,

Unknown, unploughed, untrodden shore;

Where scarce a woodman finds a road,
And scarce a fisher plies an oar:
For man's neglect I love thee more;
That art nor avarice intrude

To tame thy torrent's thunder-shock,
Or prune thy vintage of the rock
Magnificently rude.

Unheeded spreads thy blossomed bud
Its milky bosom to the bee;
Unheeded falls along the flood
Thy desolate and aged tree.
Forsaken scene, how like to thee
The fate of unbefriended Worth!

Like thine her fruit dishonoured falls;

Like thee in solitude she calls

A thousand treasures forth.