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BY H. H.

A WILD ROSE IN SEPTEMBER. “I cannot reach you where you stand,

Come closer, while I say good-bye,

Nay, closer - let me hold your hand,
O wild red rose, what spell has stayed

And kiss you once before I die.”
Till now thy Summer of delights?
Where hid the south wind when he laid
His heart on thine, these Autumn nights ? Ah, why that sudden storm of tears ?

I did not love him— wherefore then

Would I have given all my years
O wild red rose ! Two faces glow

To bring him back to life again?
At sight of thee, and two hearts share
All thou and thy south wind can know
Of sunshine in this Autumn air.

And when, next morn, beside the door,

I waited in the soft May rain, O sweet wild rose ! O strong south wind !

They told me he had gone before,
The sunny roadside asks no reasons

And I had culled my flowers in vain.
Why we such secret Summer find,
Forgetting calendars and seasons !

Ah, why, when half a score of years

Across his low, green grave have moved, Alas! red rose, thy petals wilt ;

Do I bedew with bitter tears
Our loving hands tend thee in vain;

The grave of one I never loved ?
Our thoughtless touch seems like a guilt;
Ah, could we make thee live again!

We were but casual friends, at best;

A word, a smile, and all was said ;
Yet joy, wild rose ! Be glad, south wind ! I stood not near his heart, nor guessed
Immortal wind ! immortal rose !

That I should grieve if he were dead.
Ye shall live on in two hearts shrined,
With secrets which no words disclose.

Transcript. And yet, if on the earth there be

One soul that holds me half so dear
As his last blessing is to me,

Or his sad memory, year by year,

It will be all I ask or crave,
I NEVER loved him; for awhile

To smooth my bed or bless my sleep, We two were passing friends; and yet

Even though the whisper haunt my grave, I learned to prize the slow, sad smile

“I did not love her — wherefore weep?" Which touched his features when we met,

Argosy. His words of greeting, light and brief,

The clasp his fingers left on mine,
And saw, with vague, unspoken grief,
The signs which marked his life's decline.

And when, awaiting certain doom,

Forth issuing from my long-kept cottage He lay at last, serene and calm,

door, I often sought his lonesome room,

Released from recent agonizing pain, With flowers and words of friendly balm ;

How throbs my heart to tread these tracks

once more,

And breathe the untainted air of heaven And when I bathed his aching brow,

again! Or read, or talked — still, all the while, I mind me how the die was all but cast, His earnest eyes — they haunt me now - How like the unseen weapon was to fall, Repaid me with that slow, sad smile. And the sad weeks of sickness overpast

Be crowned with death, the issue of it all.

And as I think of this, I feel a growth
At last, one day, when gathering shades
Made the spring landscape chill and drear,

Of gratitude my heart and bosom swell, He said, “Dear friend, the sunshine fades;

A sweet enlargement of the breast, that

shew'th To-morrow I shall not be here.

More than the tongue may speak or words

could tell ; And when you come, you will not see The which God takes as a thank-offering,

This trembling hand, this thinning face, From one who knows the notes, but cannot So - you were always kind to me

sing. Grant me, I pray, one gift of grace.

Chambers' Journal.

From The Edinburgh Review. consented to treat with her former deMOTLEY'S LIFE AND DEATH OF BARNE- pendency as with an independent power, VELDT.*

But singularly enough, this truce of We gladly welcome Mr. Motley's re- twelve years had hardly been concluded appearance in the arena of history; these when the death of the Duke of Cleves two volumes are a fitting sequel to those without an heir created a fresh crisis in which have already been so favourably European politics, which not only imreceived by the reading public in either perilled the existence of thc truce, so hemisphere ; and without any suspicion painfully patched up after nearly half a of ingratitude we trust we may look upon century of war, but seemed likely to inthis publication with a lively hope of sim- volve all Europe in a new conflict. ilar favours yet to come. They contain

Few events in history have created so in fact the history of Europe during the much interest among men as the vacanfitful twelve years' armistice which inter-cy of this inheritance of the Duke of vened between the war of forty years' Cleves. duration which established the independence of the Netherlands and the war of between the two rival camps into which

It was an apple of discord thrown directly thirty years' duration which settled the Christendom was divided. The duchies of religious peace of Europe. For the his- Cleves, Berg, and Jülich and the counties and tory of that period is indeed the history lordships of Mark, Ravensberg, and Ravenof one man — that of John of Barneveldt.t stein, formed a triangle political and geoThe pages before us are the result of graphical

, closely wedged between Catholicism long and arduous study in the archives of and Protestantism, and between France, the several countries, and especially in those United Provinces, Belgium, and Germany. of the Hague and of Brussels ; and we Should it fall into Catholic hands, the Nethercan hardly give too much appreciation to lands were lost, trampled every corthat subtle alchemy of the brain which ner, hedged in on all sides, with the House of has enabled him to produce out of dull, the Scheldt. It was vital to them to exclude

Austria governing the Rhine, the Meuse, and crabbed, and often illegible state papers the Empire from the great historic river which the vivid, graphic, and sparkling narra- seemed destined to form the perpetual frontier tive which he has given to the world. of jealous powers and rival creeds. Should it

This history, which styles itself “ The fall into heretic hands, the States were vastly Life and Death of John of Barneve!dt,” strengthened, the Archduke Albert isolated does occupy itself in reality only with and cut off from the protection of Spain and the story of the great statesman during of the Empire. France, although Catholic, the last ten years of his existence. In was the ally of Holland, and the secret but his former historical works Mr. Motley well-known enemy of the House of Austria. had given a narrative of the revolution It was inevitable that the king of that country, in the Netherlands, in which the great should be appealed to by all parties, and

the only living statesman that wore a crown, Advocate played so leading a part, and should find himself in the proud but dangerous followed them down to the time at which, position of arbiter of Europe. In this emerafter forty years of hard fighting, Spain gency he relied upon himself

, and on two men virtually acknowledged the independence besides, Maximilian de Béthune (Sully), and of the Republic and concluded with her John of Barneveldt. (Vol. i. pp. 60, 61.) a truce of twelve years, by which she Among the many aspirants to the va

cant duchies the real competitors were The Life and Death of John of Barneveldt, A do the Emperor on the one side, and the vocate of Holland, with a view of the Primary Causes and Movements of the Thirty Years' War. Elector of Brandenburg and the Count By John Lothrop Motley, D.C.L., LL.D. Two Palatine of Neuburg, on the other. vols. 8vo. London: 1874.

These two princes, under the advice of Mr. Motley has thought fit to drop the final : in spelling the name of his hero; but we know not for Barneveldt and of a council of the Protwhat reason. He himself states that the Advocate was estant princes of Germany, came to an most of the best English writers the true spelling of the arrangement that a Condominium should name has been retained. We therefore adhere to it. I be provisionally established, by which

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