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and, I confess, when I saw him first-his clothes more softly, like the dead child who had gode bea covered with his wife's life-blood, and her marble her, in its baptism of blood, she slept in peace. face on his shoulder; when I saw his calmness, his “I thought of all that had passed in the bearts aiz complete self-possession, the directions he gave for two young persons for whom life had so early close the physician, all the time keeping his hand so pressed They had suffered much, but I did not see bota on the wound, that no more blood should flow; when good could occur to the dead or the living by foriz I saw him hold her till the surgeon closed the wound, communication. If Mary had desired it, there was and then place his band on the heart, and watch its been opportunity enough. She might have led the beating, if happily life might yet linger there; when letters for her husband to read. On the coatrzy, I saw this, I longed to say, 'thou cold-hearted being! she had burned them immediately after I had leí she is beyond the chill of thine icy love-care not room. Her woman had brought her a lamp, and that for her! the grave is softer and warmer than saw her setting fire to letters-and, in fact, the rain thou art !
of them were still in the chimney. “But life had gone out. Not, however, till the “I therefore said no more to Mr. Gardner. loss of blood had so relieved the agonizing pressure had been much shocked with the events of ibe das on the brain, that reason had evidently returned- and for some time was depressed. But he recoreei for she opened her eyes, with a sweet, sad smile, the tone of his mind, and to this day, I suppose, bas looked at us all-saw every thing—knew every thing very little comprehension of what was about be that had passed. She raised her hand to her neck, and around him for years—of the broken-beart the and then pointed upward, and breathing more and I was so long breaking."
THE PROPHET'S REBUKE.
BY MRS. JULIET 1. L. CAMPBELL.
In a cedar-ceiled palace, the proud arches rolled,
Then straightway he hasted, with tenderest care,
A SCENE ON THE SUSQUEHANNA.
BY JOSBPH R CHAXDLER,
The incidents of life around us—of common life-, hopes of the parties, and to present to the reader yf everyday events, and the common scenes which what the unobtrusive actor does, feels, hopes, fears Nature has prepared on every side, are full of in- and suffers. erest, full of means of gratifying a taste formed or Ungifted to catch the beauties of the landscape and ultivated to rational enjoyment. The Hymmalayen transfer them 10 canvas, unpracticed in the simplest nountains may overtop the Andes, and the Amazon movement of the artist's duties, I can only stand and Dear more water to the sea than the Susquehanna, admire what Providence has spread around with a put it follows not thence that the combination of profusion of bounty, and as colors deepen or fade, scenery-points of beauty to be associated with the and beauties augment or diminish, I bow with admieye-are less attractive in the latter than in the for- ration at the object, and increased love to Him mer; and though thousands may tread, may ride, or whose hand garnished the heavens, and whose goodmay murder on the unfrequented path of the elderness is as manifest "in these his lower works” as world, and give tragic effect to narrative, yet on all in the constellated glories of the firmament, whose sides of us, in our home experience, and our limited systems combine to enrich with heatless light worlds wandering, events are every day occurring of as of space-and the infinite seems exhausted to gem much interest to the participators as are those which with starry lustre earth's evening canopy. constitute the theme of the foreign tourist; and scenes Equally unsupplied am I with that genius which are presenting themselves almost daily within our seizes on passing incidents, and moulds them to imown observation, that need only the pen of a Rad- portant events, building the interesting and the subdiffe 10 describe, or the pencil of a Claude to depict, lime on the simple and the ordinary. I have not to fix them on the imperishable canvas of the artist these gists, but I have the love for the gists, the sense or the immortal page of the gifted poet.
of their existence in others, and a sort of conception How often have we been struck with the cluster of the time and the place in which they should be ing beauties of a seashore by Birch, or some land- employed; and often, as I pass along, I select groups scape by Russell Smith, and while we gazed in and note incidents that with the child of genius would admiration at the production so rich in artistic be seed for a golden harvest. And scenes, too, that skill, and felt astonishment at the fidelity of the escape the general eye, or only excite the exclamarepresentation, have shrunk away from the pic- tion "how beautiful,” press upon me till I wish that lure, ashamed that objects so constantly before our I had the genius and skill to fix the picture which eyes should have remained unadmired till the pencil Nature has drawn, and show that our own land and of the artist had transferred them to canvas-had se- own vicinity are full of those beauties which true lected the moment when sunshine had brought out taste admires, which, transferred to canvas, become the clustering beauties of some gentle promontory, in turn the stimulant 10 taste. Yet the scenes which or shade had deepened the darkness of the dell, and I see, and the occurrences which I note, may be of all which to our eyes had been daily spread out in use to those who know better how to combine and constantly changing hues, had been fixed in beauty present the materials; and what I saw and heard, to challenge our admiration and create new love for others may present in an attractive form. the original.
During the close of August and the first of SeptemEvents which strike us with astonishment in their ber last I was, in obedience to an imperative call, record, whether they are real or imaginary, acquire engaged in some business in Harrisburg, Pennsylmuch of their importance from our knowledge of the vania. The little borough was crowded with deleantecedent circumstances and present condition of gates to two conventions then being held, for the the actors. We connect the present with the past, purpose of nominating candidates by the opposing and our sympathies becoming enlisted with the joys parties for the office of Governor of the Commona sorrows of others, all that relates to them acquires wealth; a part of the machinery to which our instithe exaggerated importance to us which it has with tutions give rise, and those who affect to sneer at those who are really connected with the occurrences. these preliminary movements, do not understand the Every group of immigrants we meet, every wedding true theory and practice of republicanism, where party we attend, every funeral train we join, contains action, to be effective, must begin in the will of the in itself a story of deep and thrilling interest; the people, and to be beneficially operative it must conpower of genius only is necessary to collect and linue in concurrence with that will. Notwithstandcombine the incidents, to bring in the feelings and I ing the presence of two antagonistic parties there
were peace and much social intercourse between the of the woman's heart. One proud look around is delegates of opposite creeds; nor was this marvelous, given by the father, but that look was exchanged in the contest had not yet been delivered to the parties; one of anguish as he turned his eye downward > the rivalry and antagonism were between the mem- ward the burthen which his arm sustained. bers of the same party, who should be the candidate The company had come up, not 10 solicit chariis, -that settled on each side, then the divided fronts of that they might eat and drink before they should de the main divisions would unito, and the hostility be --but that they might obtain a burying place for the transferred from sections of the same party to the little one of their flock, whom death had released parties themselves. The general field of contest was from its parents' troubles. of course not taken there, so that the elements of It was a pretty child; the blue eyes were visible political warfare were held in abeyance, and the beneath the half divided lids, and the long lashes thronged streets wore a holyday appearance of plea- hung over them like gentle palls, desending them sure and hope.
from the rudeness of earth's winds. The fine line Standing early one morning at the door of the hair lay smoothly over the marble forehead, and a hotel, before the customary hour of rising, I was few white teeth shone out from between the lips struck with a little procession from the canal toward that were shrinking away from each other in the the centre of the place. A stern woman led the coldness of death. company, in which were four men, two of whom, It was a grave the parents needed. and the youngest, each carried a child; and in the The contributions were liberal, and a grave was rear was a very tall man, bearing also a younger provided. It would seem that in the wilderness of child, wrapped about with parts of a ragged female unreclaimed lands which lie along the public words dress. The man by his height and measured tread of Pennsylvania, there might be found a resting. drew attention particularly to himself. The ap- place for an infant stranger, without the eleemopearance of the whole was that of poor immigrants; synary aid which had been sought-bat, alas! who Germans probably; though the stateliness of the does not desire when they“ bury their dead out of march of its principal man was that of some one their sight,” that it may be in a place which memory who had a spirit of independence, and felt that what may cherish. ever might be his appearance, he was, for a time at We cannot comprehend the unconsciousness of least, above the influence of outward circumstances. the grave. We hedge it about, we make tbe last The company passed me, and for some time I lost house as if comforts were to be enjoyed therein, and sight of them, and indeed nothing but the peculiar we love to place our dead side by side with others, look of the woman and the reinarkable tread of the as if there were fellowship with the mouldering clay. man would have kept them in my memory. It was It is of no use to argue against this—it is better per not long, however, before I saw a gathering in front haps to encourage the feelings, and assist in their of a public building, and loving to hear the remarks gratification. They refine the mind, they elevate of those who -peak out unrestrainedly, I joined the views, they meliorate passions and keep alive afec. little company. Its centre was the band of immi- tions. Let the resting place of the dead be sanctified grants. It was evident that some movements toward to all, it is the home of the temple of God. It is the effective sympathy had been suggested. What they Moriah of the Christian dispensation. were or by what suggested I could not tell. The I cannot leave Harrisburg at any season of the year, strangers could speak little or no E glish, and for a but especially in the early part of Autumn, without time their appearance only appealed to the kindly seeking the shore of the Susquehanna at sunset. 41 feelings of the multitude. I had pressed in close to day long the river is beautiful, the quiet stream at the strong man, who was still bearing the little child goes shining down to the ocean is full of loveliness, in the same position in which it rested when he and all upon it or near it, partakes of ils character. passed me at the door of the hotel. The same fixed But it is exquisitely rich and attractive near the elose look of independence was in his face and his posi- of the day. I went alone to enjoy the scene. An tion. There was much of sternness on the face of placing myself upon the bold bank between the tow the woman, but it was marked by pain, referable and the river I looked westward for the sight that perhaps to her s tuation, and to the marks of recent had so often been enjoyed. It was there; no change grief. Something was to be done, but what I could comes over such beauties; they are immortal, they not yet determine. As I pressed nearer to the man are without mulation. In the bosom of the broad the company crowded closer.
river-glowing with the golden beams of the retirin “ You need help," said I to the strange man. sun-sat the islands that break the unity of the stream He intimated plainly that he could not understand and augment its beauties. So rich, so full was the
sunlight upon the river, that these islands seemed o “ You want bread," said I.
be floating in the gorgeous light. Some sbor out “ Das brod,” exclaimed he, shaking his head. prominent angles into the water, and presented " Nein das grab!"
salient points to break the uniformity, while obers And he threw the clothes from the face of the child sat swan-like down, ibeir rounded edge touching be on his arm, and the pale, quiet features of the little stream, as if they had been dressed by art to preest one were cold in death.
the perfection of symmetry; the dark green the One low, agonizing cry went up from the depth shrubbery that sprung up in the moisture in the
ands was mingled with the golden hues of the sun, | They all bowed together, as if taking a last look, d here and there the gentle current, by passing and when they raised their heads, I thought I caught rer some obstructing object, broke into a ripple, a little of the wild cry of the anguished mother-but at danced like liquid gold in the sunlight.
I must have been deceived, the distance was 100 It was a rich and lovely sight, one to which fre great, but the signs of grief were visible, and I saw iency of enjoyment can bring no satiety, and he the father sustaining with his arm the afflicted wife, ho sits down to such a scene finds the impressions and the other members of the group cast their eyes
unfriendly association passing away—the resolu- toward their afflicted female companion. The air ons of revenge, which unprovoked rudeness excited, was full of dust, the consequence of a long drought, elting into the better determinations of the heart and as the floating particles reflected the sunbeams, ad all of bitterness and animosity which unchastened the funeral gathering seemed for a moment, bathed in ride encourages, are neutralized and lost in the deep the glorious light of the setting sun, transfigured on motions of love which such a view of God's works their mount of sorrow—transfigured from the poor nd such a sense of man's enjoyment necessarily mendicant wanderers they had appeared in the morn romote.
ing, to children of light. I sat absorbed in the scene until the sun began to That glorious sunset on the islands and waters of rop below the hills, and the warmth of the coloring the Susquehanna cannot soon fade from my memory Ipon the water was yielding to the neutral and colder -nor shall I easily forget the blaze of glory shed ints of evening, but upward along the sides of the around the infant's grave. Strange that the richness uills the gorgeousness of the sunlight was in its full of sunlight should spring from the impure particles less. Casting my eyes away to the right, I noticed by which it is reflected—but in this world of ours į gathering on the upland: and on looking closer I what but errors and impurities of the human kind ould discover the forms of those who had composed make visible and beautiful the grace of Him in he morning procession. They had made a grave whose light and heat " we live and move and have for the little one of their flock, and had gathered our being ?" around it to do the last offices to the inanimate form.
PEDRO AND INEZ.
BY ELIZABETH J. EAMES.
[It is a well known fact that the hapless Inez de Castro, the young and beautiful bride of Pedro of Portugal, was murdered, while he was absent on a hunting excursion.)
SOFTLY broke the light of morning, through a pictured win- While with love almost paternal his fond eye drinks in the dow's gloom,
land, Blandly strayed the zephyt's winglet 'mid rich plants of Over which he soon may govern with a kingly hand. Eastern bloom,
Now the mellow horn he soundeth through the leafy olive Shedding a strong spicy fragrance round tha: gorgeous
Far and wide the clear notes echo, but they bring not her Lightly on her couch of purple slumbered Pedro's new
he loves made bride,
"Inez? is it thou, sweet Inez, where yon shadow moves?" In her young unshadowed beauty, with no other thought Never more shall Inez answer to that fond familiar call
beside That which his deep love had poured o'er her spirit's of a fiendish hate the victim lies she, wrapt in gory pall.
Of the lovely bride left sleeping, bleeding clay is alltide.
Never more from that dread hour was Prince Pedro seen Softly had Prince Pedro risen from his nuptial couch that to smile! morn,
Never more did chase or revel his still agony beguileLightly donned his hunting vesture, at the call of hound But he walked in the shadow of dark thoughts the while ! and horn :
With her martyred form forever graven on his memory, Yet he bends enamored o'er that face of Beauty born. He became a scourge and terror from whom all men sought One more love-glance, yet another, on the sleeping face he to flee, cast;
Tortured were his victims, but he smiled in mockery! Soft he stoops to meet that red lip-one light kiss—the last !
Such the change, and such the monarch whose reft hand “God and our Lady bless thee, love !"_and so Prince Pe
made discord ring dro passed.
Like a clarion through the country that had gladly hailed
him king. Softly faded into twilight gorgeous gleams of gold and red,
Darkly, like the tempest, rode he on the avenger's wing! Valley, stream, and purple mountain lay in mellow glory | And when midnight drew her curtain round the land, that spread.
hour And the lemon's snowy blossom dewy odors shed.
In her blood-stained chamber did he stand with fearful Homeward through eve's tender shadows speeds Prince power, Pedro with his band,
And renew the fatal vow to avenge his martyred flower!
THE TRICKS UPON TRICKS, AND THE TWISTS UPON TWISTS;
OR KHUR ENEIN KHUR, AGUS KHAOUN ENEIN KHAOUN.
BY J. GERAHTY M'TEAGUE.
THE GUBBAUN SEARE.
on very well indeed, if we were only a leskele treated. On all hands it is admitted that we
pretty nearly able (and take my word for it One of my own dear countrymen, casting his eye willing enough) to eat and to drink all tbal a tka on the above title, may possibly recognize something teous Providence causes to be brought forth fre 2 in it familiar to him, especially should he ever have
most fruitful of soils; in truth, a superficial oboru resided on the classic shores of Galway or of Clare, might even be tempted 10 utter an exclamatka our own "Far West;" but to others who may surprise on being told that with a territory ole tiket chance to honor our legend with a perusal, some sand square miles less than that of the state ci daire few words of introduction are necessary to transport and six thousand less than that of Peonsylvania z them, “ in their mind's eye,” from the city of "bro. millions of human beings should be supported; bz therly love,” to the far distant and far different land then consider, kind reader, when our beer, and a of the O'Malleys, the Macnamaras, * and the Blakes. butter, and our eggs, and even the little catter
An Irishman is, in my humble opinion, rather unlike from our gardens, must fly on the wings of size a a prophet, for this reason, he is in one sense only, pay the rent, and that rent lies away again, pa to be honored in his own country-transplant him; know, to pay whom; (a slight glance at a certa and though he may be unimpaired, perhaps, in
will tell you that;) consider, I say, ti e vigor of body; though he may make an excellent cannot always be light-hearted, that a little sedan fabricator of rail-roads and canals, yet it has always will sometimes creep over us. Think how our pa? appeared to me he loses his native raciness, except countrymen must sometimes suffer, and let ere os under very peculiar circumstances; he grows dif. warmest sympathies be exerted when we beará ferent; in a word, he gradually becomes-like the
their distresses. rest of the world!
you say, “these are twists roaste Is it the absence of the unique fragrancy of his
getting into, indeed. What has this to do i native turf smoke, which at home he so freely inhaled, or is it the substitution of beef and pudding your legend ?" Well, then, reader, jump over with
me into a snug cabin, which is not so very unlike for his former scanty meals of the never-sailing root
a log-cabin, only built of stone or mud, cicis of plenty? Let us leave these verata questiones me,) and sit down with me and a collection de to those whom they may concern, but on one point choice spirits, round a blazing turf fire, keepixs let us give our decided opinion. Our readers may say, “0, now you all are changed ! since your tibacky" taking their accustomed rounds. I mass
warm, as we say, with the pipe and the “dari' Father Mathew has made five millions of you tee
well introduce Jimmy Carmody to you—my 'Mich totallers, your country is not worth the living in! Free"-Tom Dillon, and a few others. So, nowe No more doth the invigorating, all-inspiring, thrice
are all settled. concentrated juice of the 'barley grain' push you
“What's this your 're all discussing so learzeds, forward to glorious deeds of heroic daring-of skull
boys ?" breaking, dancing, or of story-telling; so that for all
“O, nothing very particʻlar, your honor, intents and purposes you have nothing left worth
we're just saying what mighly quare owld ruins chronieling-you are getting like the rest of the them is—them round towers. Did your honor beter world !" Aisy a bit,” say I, “the fiddle and the
see any of them ? Sure there's one on Scaiters bagpipes have just the same charms to put the Island, in the Shannon, and one at Kilmacduagt, I capers in our heels' as in whisky's balmiest days; believe, in this county.” and as for story-telling, that we can do equally well
“O, yes, Tom, I've seen those you mention, and det over a good cup of fine hot coffee. No, no; while the same fresh and free breezes shall continue to be been to Dublin by the canal, I'm sure you must bare
a great many more, too; and if any of you have eter wasted across the Atlantic to us; while we have our
seen the one at Clondalkin. There's one, 100, Fou own green fields and wild, lofty mountains to behold, know, in the county Wicklow, at the lake tay Irishmen we shall be in all our better qualities; and Tommy Moore made the beautiful song
about : though Father Mathew may have been influential
* By that lake, whose gloomy shore enough in cooling our heads, (we admit,) yet our
Skylark never warbled o'er. » hearts are as warm as ever!
“Why, now, yer honor's persectially right!" said
cu Irish cabins, which you all have heard of, would Jimmy, who just then remembered some inciden's not be such bad concerns after all, and we should get in his former travels to Dublin about his “ litule.pt oi * Let me assure my readers that this word is pronounced
a pratee garden, that was near being sowld at the Four Macnamahra.
Courts for non payment. Quite right your home