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Tuesday.-Life flows away here in such un- religious. And (not on that account, but by reason marked tranquilitie, that one hath nothing whereof I have read yo most of them before) methinks I to write, or to remember what distinguished one will write to borrow some of Rose ; for change of day from another. I am sad, yet not dulle; me- reading hath now become a want. I am minded thinks I have grown some yeares older since I came also, to seek out and minister unto some poore folk here. I can fancy elder women feeling much as after her fashion. Now that I am queen of the I doe now.

I have nothing to desire, nothing to larder, there is manie a wholesome scrap at my dishope, that is likelie to come to pass—nothing to posal, and there are likewise sundrie physiques in regret, except I begin soe far back, that my whole my mother's closet, which she addeth to year by life hath neede, as 't were, to begin over agayn.- year, and never wants, we are soe seldom ill.

Mr. Agnew translates to us portions of Thuanus his historie, and ye letters of Theodore Beza, con- Aug. 5.—Dear father sayd this evening, as we cerning ye French reformed church ; oft prolix, yet came in from a walk on yo terrace, “My sweet interesting, especially with Mr. Agnew's com- Moll, you were ever the light of yo house ; but ments and allusions to our own time. On y now, though you are more staid than of former other hand, Rose reads Davila, yo sworne apologiste time, I find you a better companion than ever. of Catherine de' Medicis, whose charming Italian This last visitt to Sheepscote hath evened your even I can comprehende ; but alle is false and spiritts." plausible. How sad, that ye wrong partie shoulde Poor father! he knew not how I lay awake and be victorious! Soe it may befall in this land; wept last night, for one I shall never see agayn, nor though, indeede, I have hearde soe much bitter how the terrace walk minded me of him. My spiritts rayling on bothe sides, that I know not which is may seem even, and I exert myself to please ; but, right. The line of demarcation is not soe distinctly within, all is dark shade, or, at best, gray twilight; drawn, methinks, as 't was in France. Yet it can- and my spiritts are, in fact, worse here than they not be right to take up arms agaynst constituted were at Sheepscote, because, here, I am continuauthorities ?-Yet, and if those same authorities allie thinking of one whose name is never ultered ; abuse their trust? Nay, women cannot under- whereas, there, it was mentioned naturallie and stand these matters, and I thank Heaven they need tenderlie, though sadly.

Onlie, they cannot help siding with those I will forthe to see some of y® poor folk. they love; and sometimes those they love are on opposite sides.

Same night.-Resolved to make yo circuit of Mr. Agnew sayth, the secular arm shoulde the cottages, but onlie reached yo first, wherein I never be employed in spirituall matters, and that ye found poor Nell in such grief of body and mind, Hugenots committed a grave mistake in choosing that I was avised to wait with her a long time. princes and admirals for their leaders, insteade of Askt why she had not sent to us for relief; was simple preachers with Bible in their hands; and answered she had thought of doing soe, but was he askt, “ Did Luther or Peter the Hermit most feared of making too free. After a lengthened manifestlie labor with the blessing of God ?" visitt, which seemed to relieve her mind, and cer

-I have noted yo heads of Mr. Agnew's taynlie relieved mine, I bade her farewell, and at readings, after a fashion of Rose's, in order to yo wicket met my father coming up with a playn-fahave a shorte, comprehensive account of ye whole ; vored but scholarlike-looking reverend man. He and this hath abridged my journalling. It is the sayd, “ Moll, I could not think what had become of more profitable to me of ye two, changes the sad you.” I answered, I hoped I had not kept him current of thought, and though an unaccustomed waiting for dinner-poor Nell had entertayned me task, I like it well.

longer than I wisht, with y® catalogue of her

troubles. The stranger, looking attentively at me, Saturday.-On Monday I return to Forest Hill. observed that may be the poor woman had enterI am well pleased to have yet another Sheepscote tayned an angel unawares ; and added, “ Doubt sabbath. To-day we had y rare event of a dinner- not, madam, we woulde rather await our dinner guest; soe full of what yo rebels are doing, and than that you should have curtayled your message all yo horrors of strise, that he seemed to us quiete of charity." Hithertoe, my father had not named folks like ye denizen of another world.

this gentleman to me; but now he sayd, “ Child,

this is the Reverend Doctor Jeremy Taylor, chapForest Hill, August 3.-Home agayn, and lain in ordinarie to his M', and whom you know I mother hath gone on her long intended visitt to have heard more than once preach before the king uncle John, taking with her y® two youngest. since he abode in Oxford.” Thereon I made a Father much preoccupide, by reason of ye sup- lowly reverence, and we walked homewards toplies needed for his May's service ; soe that, sweet gether. At first, he discoursed chiefly with my Robin being away, I find myselfe lonely. Harry father on yo troubles of the times, and then he rides with me in ye evening, but y mornings I drew me into ye dialogue, in the course of which have alle to myselfe ; and when I have fulfilled I let fall a saying of Mr. Agnew's which drew mother's behests in ye kitchen and still-room, I from the reverend gentleman a respectfulle look I have nought but to read in our somewhat scant felt I no way deserved. Soe then I had to explain collection of books, the moste part whereof are ) that the saying was none of mine, and felt ashamed he shoulde suppose me wiser than I was, especiallie | studdy, housewiferie, and acts of mercy, on howas he commended my modesty. But we progressed ever humble a scale ; and find mine owne peace of well, and he soon had the discourse all to himself, mind thereby increased notwithstanding ye darkfor Squire Paice came up, and detained father, nesse of public and dullnesse of private affairs. while the doctor and I walked on. I could not Made out yo meaning of “ cynosure” and “ Cimhelp reflecting how odd it was, that I, whoni merian darknesse.” nature had endowed with such a very ordinarie capacitie, and scarce anie taste for letters, shou Aug. 15.-Full sad am I to learn that Mr. continuallie be thrown into the company of ye Milton hath published another book in advocacy cleverest of men-first, Mr. Milton; then Mr. of divorce. Alas, why will he chafe against ye Agnew; and now, this Doctor Jeremy Taylor. chain, and widen the cruel division between us! But like y other two, he is not merely clever, he My father is outrageous on yo matter, and speaks is Christian and good. How much I learnt in soe passionatelie of him, that it is worse than not this short interview! for short it seemned, though speaking of him at alle, which latelie I was avised it must have extended over a good half hour. He 10 complain of. sayd, “ Perhaps, young lady, the time may come Aug. 30.—Dick beginneth to fancie himself in when you shall find safer solace in ye exercise of love with Audrey Paice--an attachment that will the charities than of ye affections. Safer : for, doe him noe good ; his tastes alreadie want raisnot to consider how a successfulle or unsuccess- ing, and she will onlie lower them, I feare-a fulle passion for a human being of like infirmities comely, romping, noisy girl, that, were she but a with ourselves, oft stains and darkens and shortens farmer's daughter, woulde be the life and soul the current of life, even the chastened love of a of alle the Whitsun-ales, harvest-homes, and haymother for her child, as of Octavia who swooned at makings in the country ; in short, as fond of idling * Tu, Marcellus, eris’—or of wives for their hus- and merrymaking as I once was myself; only I bands, as Artemisia and Laodamia, sometimes never was soe riotous. amounting to idolatry-nay, the love of friend for I beginne to see faults in Dick and Harry I friend, while alle is sweet influences and animating never saw before. Is my taste bettering, or my transports, yet exceeding y reasonableness of that temper worsenning? At alle events, we have noe of David for Jonathan, or of our blessed Lord for cross words, for I expect them not to alter, knowSt. John and the family of Lazarus, may procure ing how hard it is to doe soe by myself. far more torment than profit; even if the attach- I look forward with pleasure to my Sheepscote ment is reciprocal, and well grounded, and equallie visitt. Dear mother returneth to-morrow. Good matcht, which often it is not. Then interpose Dr. Taylor hath twice taken y trouble to walk human tempers, and chills, and heates, and slyghtes, over from Oxford to see me, but he hath now lest, fancied or intended, which make the vext soul readie and we may never meet agayn. His visitts have to wish it had never existed. How smalle a thing beene very precious to me; I think he hath some is a human heart! you might grasp it in your little glimmering of my sad case ; indeed, who knows hand; and yet its strises and agonies are enough it not ? At parting he sayd, smiling, he hoped he to distend a skin that should cover the whole should yet hear of my making offerings to Viriworld! But, in the charities, what peace! yea, placa on Mount Palatine ; then added, gravelie, they distill sweetnesse even from ye unthankfulle, “ You know where reall offerings may be made blessing him that gives more than him that re- and alwaies accepted—offerings of spare half-hours ceives; while, in the main, they are laid out at and five minutes, when we shut the closet door and better interest than our warmest affections, and commune with our own hearts and are still." Alsoe bring in a far richer harvest of love and gratitude. I he sayd, “ There are sacrifices to make which Yet, let our affections have their fitting exercise sometimes wring our very hearts to offer ; but our too, staying ourselves with ye reflection, that there gracious God accepts them neverthelesse, if our is greater happinesse, after alle things sayd, in feet be really in ye right path, even though, like loving than in being loved, save by the God of love Chryseis, we look back, weeping.” who first loved us, and that they who dwell in

He sayd

But how manie things as beanilove dwell in Him."

tifulle and true did I hear my husband say,

which Then he went on to speak of y® manifold acts passed by me like ye idle wind that I regarded and divisions of charity ; as much, methought, in not ! yo vein of a poet as a preacher; and he minded me much of that scene in y' tenth book of yo Sept. 8.-Harry hath just broughte in yo news Fairie Queene, soe lately read to us by Mr. Ag- of his My's. success in the west. Lord Essex's new, wherein the Red Cross Knight and Una army hath beene completely surrounded by the were shown Mercy at her work.

royal troops ; himself forct to escape in a boat to

Plymouth, and all the arms, artillerie, baggage, Aug. 10.-A pack-horse from Sheepscote just &c., of Skippon's men have fallen into y hands reported, laden with a goodlie store of books, be- of the king. Father is soe pleased that he hath sides sundrie smaller tokens of Rose's thought- mounted the flag, and given double allowance of fulle kindnesse. I have now methodicallie divided ale to his men. my time into stated hours, of prayer, exercise, I wearie to hear from Robin.

Sheepscote, Oct. 10.—How sweete a picture of 16th. -Walking together, this morning, Rose rurall life did Sheepscote present, when I arrived was avised to say, “Did Mr. Milton ever tell you here this afternoon! The water being now much the adventures of ye Italian lady?"_" Rely on it out, the face of the countrie presented a new as he never did,” says Mr. Agnew. " Milton is as pect ; there were men threshing the walnut trees, modest a man as ever breathed—alle men of first children and women putting ye nuts into osier bas- class genius are soe. "_“What was y adventure?" kets, a bailiff on a white horse overlooking them, I askt, curiouslie.- “Why, I neede not tell you, and now and then galloping to another party, and Moll, that John Milion, as a youth, was extremelie splashing through the water. Then we found Mr. handsome, even beautifull. His color came and Agnew equallie busie with his apples, mounted hall went soe like a girl's, that we of Christ's college way up one of the trees, and throwing cherry pip- used to call him the lady,' and thereby annoy pins down into Rose's apron, and now and then him noe lille. One summer afternoone he and I making as though he would pelt her ; onlie she and young King (Lycidas, you know) had started dared him, and woulde not be frightened. Her on a country walk, (the countrie is not pretty, donkey, chewing apples in ye corner, with the round Cambridge,) when we met in with an accider running out of his mouth, presented a ludi- quaintance whom Mr. Milton affected not, soe he crous image of enjoyment, and 't was evidently sayd he would walk on to y first rising ground enhanct by Giles' brushing his rough coat with a and wait us there. On this rising ground stood a birch besom, instead of minding his owne busi- tree, beneath which our impatient young gentlenesse of sweeping the walk. The sun, shining man presentlie cast himself, and, having walked with mellow light on the mown grass and fresh fast, and the weather being warm, soon falls clipt hornbeam hedges, made even y commonest asleep as sounde as a top. Meantime, King and I objects distinet and cheerfulle; and ye air was soeguit our friend and saunter forward pretty easilie. cleare, we coulde hear yo village children afar off Anon comes up with us a caroche,. with someat theire play.

thing I know not what of outlandish in its build ; Rose had abundance of delicious new honey in and within it, two ladies, one of them having the y comb, and bread hot from the oven, for our fayrest face I ever set eyes on, present companie earlie supper.

Dick was tempted to stay too duly excepted. The caroche having passed us, late ; however, he is oft as late, now, returning King and I mutuallie express our admiration, and from Audrey Paice, though my mother likes it not. thereupon, preferring turf to dust, got on the other

side the hedge, which was not soe thick but that 15th.-Rose is quite in good spiritts now, and we coulde make out the caroche, and see the ladies we goe on most harmoniouslie and happilie. Alle descend from it, to walk up the hill. Having our tastes are now in common ; and I never more reached the tree, they paused in surprise at seeenjoyed this union of seclusion and society. Be- ing Milton asleep beneath it ; and in prettie dumb sides, Mr. Agnew is more than commonlie kind, and shew, which we watcht sharplie, exprest their never speaks sternlie or sharplie to me now. Indeed, admiration of his appearance and posture, which this morning, looking thoughtfullie at me, he sayd, woulde have suited an Arcadian well enough. “I know not, cousin, what change has come over The younger lady, hastilie taking out a pencil you, but you are now alle that a wise man coulde and paper, wrote something which she laughinglove and approve." I sayd, It must be owing then lie shewed her companion, and then put into y to Dr. Jeremy Taylor, who had done me more sleeper's hand. Thereupon, they got into their goode, it woulde seeme, in three lessons, than he caroche, and drove off. King and I, dying with or Mr. Milton coulde imparte in thirty or three curiositie to know what she had writ, soon roused hundred. He sayd he was inclined to attribute it our friend and possest ourselves of y® secret. The to a higher source than that ; and yet, there was verses ran thusdoubtlesse a great knack in teaching, and there was

Occhi, stelle mortali, a good deal in liking the teacher. He had alwaies

Ministre de miei mali, hearde y doctor spoken of as a good, pious, and

Se, chiusi, m'uccidete,

A perti, che farete? clever man, though rather too high a prelatist. I sayd, “ There were good men of alle sorts; there “ Milton colored, crumpled them up, and yet was Mr. Milton, who woulde pull ye church down; put them in his pocket ; then askt us what the there was Mr. Agnew, who woulde onlie have it lady was like. And herein lay the pleasantry of mended ; and there was Dr. Jeremy Taylor, who yo affair ; for I truly told him she had a pearwas content with it as it stoode." Then Rose shaped face, lustrous black eyes, and a skin that askt me of y® Puritanicall preachers. Then I shewed ‘il bruno il bel non toglie ;' whereas, showed her how they preached, and made her King, in his mischief, drew a fancy portrait, laugh. But Mr. Agnew woulde not laugh. But much liker you, Moll, than the incognita, which I made him laugh at last. Then he was angrie hit Milton's taste soe much better, that he was with himself and with me; only not very angry ; believed for his payns ; and then he declared that and sayd, I had a right to a name which he knew I had beene describing the duenna !

Some had beene given me, of “cleaving mischief.” I time after, when Milton beganne to talk of visiting knew not he knew of it, and was checked, though Italy, we bantered him, and sayd he was going to I laught it off.

look for y® incognita. He stoode it well, and sayd, *Laugh on! do you think I mind you ? Not a bit.' | askance. “I suppose I mighte as well think I I think he did."

had found a corner of ye land where there was Just at this turn, Mr. Agnew stumbled at some- noe originall sin.” And soe, flung it over ye thing in the long grass. It proved to be an ald, hedge. rustie horse-pistol. His countenance changed at -First class geniuses are alwaies modest, once from gay to grave. “I thought we had noe are they ?—Then I should say that young Italian such things hereabouts yet,” cried he, viewing it lady's genius was not of ye first class.

From Chambers' Journal.

A faded dream
A FEW SHORT YEARS.

To-day they seem
A FEW short vears—and then

Which memory scarce can traceWhat changes Time hath wrought !

But seals they've set

Shall Time nor yet
So strange they seem, we scarce can deem
The world, our life, ourselves are aught

Eternity efface !

AGNES SMITH. But one long fitful dream. The clouds that fly

From the National Era. Across the sky,

RETRIBUTION : OR, THE VALE OF SHADOWS. A Waves tossed upon the sea,

Tale of Passion. By Emma D. E. Nevitt South-
Shadows that pass

worth. New York: Harper & Brothers.
Before a glass,
Our fitting emblems be.

This volume, which first appeared as a serial in

the Era, revised and enlarged, forms No. 130 of A few short years—and then

the Library of Select Novels, published by the Where are the hopes that shone

Harpers. The series includes the writings of BulWhen youth with flowers enwreathed the hours, wer, Bremer, James, Andersen, Jerrold, and HowAnd earth had but one music tone

itt, and other distinguished writers of fiction ; but Of joy for us and ours?

it
may

well be doubted whether, in terseness of dicThe rainbow's hues,

tion, searching analysis of character, intensity of The morning's dews,

passion, and power of description, any one of them The blossoms of a day,

can be regarded as superior to this production of The trembling sheen

our countrywoman. Without being liable to the On water seen

charge of imitation, “ Retribution” reminds us of More stable are than they.

Jane Eyre, and the later productions of that school. A few short years and then

It has their strength and sustained intensity, while Where is the ad'mant chain

it embodies, as they can scarcely be said to do, an That passion wrought, and madly thought important moral lesson. It is well called a Tale Nor time nor change could ever strain

of Passion. Painfully intense, its heat scorches as Till life's last strife was fought ?

we read. Some of its scenes are overdrawn; mind A rope of sand,

and heart revolt and protest against those terrific A goss'mer band;

outbursts of passion, on the part of the beautiful The filmy threads at e'en

fiend, who drags down in her fatal embrace the The spider weaves

proud, self-deceived statesman. There are a few Amongst the leaves

feeble passages, and some extravagant ones. But, A firmer bond had been.

as a whole, we do not hesitate to say, that it is A few short years—and then

worthy of a place with Brockden Brown's Wieland, Where is Ambition's pile,

Arthur Mervyn, and Edgar Huntley, the only AmerThat rose so high against the sky,

ican romances with which we can properly compare

it. O'ershadowing all around the while

It cannot fail to be widely read, and we doubt With its proud boast might vie ?

not its success will warrant its author in the entire A shadow's shade,

devotion of her extraordinary powers to a departA card-house made

ment of literature which, under the influence of a By children for their play ;

well-principled mind, a generous heart, and healthThe air-blown bells

ful sympathies, may be made the medium of teachThat folly swells

ing lessons of virtue and honor, the Christian duty May vaunt a surer stay.

of self-denial, and heroic devotion to the right and

the true, but which has been too often the channel A few short years—and then Where is the mighty grief

through which impure fancies, stimulants to already That

over-excited passions, enervating the body and poithe heart with torture's art, wrung And made it feel that its relief

soning the soul, have been sent forth on their errands of evil.

J. G. W. Time's hand could ne'er impart?

A stream that 's burst,
And done its worst,

[AGAINST RASH JUDGMENTS.)
Then left the heaven more clear ;

“ALAS! how unreasonable as well as unjust a A night-mare dread,

thing it is for any to censure the inwards of another, With morning fled,

when we see that even good men are not able to These sorrows now appear.

dive through the mystery of their own! Be assured A few short years—and then

there can be but little honesty, without thinking as What of our life remains,

well as possible of others; and there can be no The smiles and tears of other years,

safety without thinking humbly and distrustfully Of passion's joys, of sorrow's pains,

of ourselves.”—Dean Young, vol. 1, p. 230. Ambition's hopes and fears?

From the London Times, Oct. 2.

does exist between Russia and Turkey, by which

Turkey is bound to give up Russian refugees, the TURKEY AND RUSSIA.

same treaty would compel Russia to surrender The issue of the Hungarian war has been fol- Turkish refugees to the demands of the Porte. If lowed by consequences for which we were wholly this be not the state of the case, and Turkey be unprepared ; and which threaten to disturb, if bound to make concessions which she is not ennot the peace of Europe, at least the amicable re- titled to exact, then the position in which she lations of the western courts of Europe with that stands to Russia is not that of an ally, but of a of St. Petersburg. There seems to be no reason dependent. for doubting that the Russian ambassador at St. This would be the case if the refugees who had Petersburg has made a formal demand of the Porte crossed the Turkish frontier, and domiciled themfor the surrender of the Hungarian revolutionists selves on Turkish soil, were Russian subjects. who took refuge within its territories. There But in what relation do the two powers appear to seems to be just as little reason for doubting that each other, when the exiles whose hodies Russia the demand has been rejected, and that the Rus- demands are aliens, whose subjection she does not sian ambassador has received orders from his own pretend to claim, and whose homage she has no court to quit Constantinople immediately. Should right to enforce? If any power has a right to these reports prove to be as well founded as we make this claim, it is Austria ; and Austria could believe them to be, rupture between the Porte do it only by virtue of treaties. The Emperor and the court of St. Petersburg is at hand, which of Russia has no more right to do so than the Emwill very possibly terminale in a general European peror of China-unless it be on the faith of some war. On the course pursued by Russia on this clause in the treaty of Unkiar Skelessi, or on the occasion it is hardly necessary to dilate. There faith of the weakness and helplessness which suge can be but one opinion upon it, whether it be re- gested and dictated that strange compact. garded in its relation to the comity or to the equity This is the true solution of the problem. Rusof nations. It transgresses, it tramples on, both. sia is strong and the Porte is weak. Russia exacts It violates the established rules by which the in- with the view of obtaining a servile concession or tercourse of civilized countries has been heretofore provoking an unequal conflict. The answer of guided. It perils the peace of Europe while it the Porte has been worthy of its former greatness. violates its laws.

The morality of Moslem shames the profligacy of We can the more easily afford to speak thus of Christian morals. The Hungarian refugees are Russian policy, because we have supported it in beaten, vanquished men. As such, they are enthe recent Austrian dissensions. But the present titled to the pity of all nations. They are stranaspect of Russia is a very different affair. She gers, seeking the hospitality of a people with whom appears in a character, for which, if there be pre- hospitality is an article of religious faith. As such, cedent, there is no justification. In the demand to abandon them would be an act of impiety as well which she now makes upon the Turkish court, as of inhumanity. The Porte will not surrender Russia asserts a right of interference which has the exiles who have thrown themselves on her never yet been accorded to any nation. She act- soil, even to the powerful sovereign who can bring ually seeks to extort from Turkey a violation of into the field 700,000 men. Stripped of nearly all that which has always been considered a law her strength-with little but the traditions of her binding on all civilized communities. The very past splendor remaining-distracted from within admission of foreigners into any state—whatever and menaced from without—Turkey still clings be their description—is a guarantee that the sov- firmly to the noblest article of her faith, and holds ereign of that state will extend to them the rights it like a shield over the helpless and the humbled, of native subjects. This generally understood law against the autocrat of the strongest empire in the can be neutralized or modified only by special con- world. tract. “ The sovereign,” says Vattel, " ought not And the power which does this is the ally—the to grant an entrance into his state for the purpose ancient ally of England. True, we have not alof drawing foreigners into a snare ; as soon as he ways behaved to her either with the honesty or admits them, he engages to protect them as his the affection of allies. There have been untoward own subjects, and to afford them perfect security events in our relations which we should take an as far as depends upon himself.” (Book II., opportunity of repairing. She is the ally also of chap. 8.) If there has been any clause in a treaty France. France, too, has a reputation to repair. either secret or avowed by which refugees are to The two countries have blustered and declaimed be mutually given up by each of the contracting much about upholding the liberties and civilization powers, then this general law is specially abro- of the world. The time has now come when these gated. But, in the first place, these treaties, for promises should be made good and these boastings the most part, refer to felonious crimes, which it justified. The question is, shall we, or shall we is the interest of all civil societies to punish, and not, abandon an ancient ally and acquiesce in an not to political misconduct, of which a foreign arrogant dictation which insults all the states of state can hardly be supposed to be a judge. In Europe ? Having decided what is the proper the second place, they make the mutuality a con- course to take, shall we content ourselves with dition of the contract. So that, supposing a treaty peddling protests and peaceful jeremiads ? On

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