hand. "You'll not forget what I've said, | prodigal went on, with a certain huskiness in Jack," he added, with a little haste. "It's his voice, "I dare say I should not turn out true enough, though I haven't that confidence in you that that I might have had. I am getting old, and I have had two attacks, sir," said Mr. Wentworth, with dignity; "and, anyhow, I can't live for ever. Your brothers can make their own way in the world, but I haven't saved all that I could have wished. When I am gone, Jack, be just to the girls and the little children," said the squire, and with that took his son's hand and grasped it hard and looked his heir full in the face. Jack Wentworth was not prepared for any such appeal; he was still less prepared to discover the unexpected and inevitable sequence with which one good sentiment leads to another. He quite faltered and broke down in this unlooked-for emergency. "Father," he said, unawares for the first time for ten years, "if you wish it, I will join you in breaking the entail." "No such thing, sir," said the squire, who, so far from being pleased, was irritated and disturbed, by the proposal. "I ask you to do your duty, sir, and not to shirk it," the head of the house said, with natural vehemence, as he stood, with that circle of Wentworths round him, giving forth his code of honor to his unworthy heir. While his father was speaking, Jack recovered a little from his momentary attendrissement. so great a rascal as-as I ought to do. Today and yesterday it has even occurred to me by moments that I was your son, sir," said Jack Wentworth; and then he made an abrupt stop and dropped the squire's hand, and came to himself in a surprising way. When he turned toward the rest of the family, he was in perfect possession of his usual courtesy and good spirits. spirits. He nodded to them all round with superb good-humor: "Good-bye, all of you.-I wish you better luck, Frank, and not so much virtue; perhaps you will have a better chance now the lost sheep has gone back to the wilderness. Good-bye to you all. I don't think I've any other last words to say." He lighted his cigar with his ordinary composure, in the hall, and whistled one of his favorite airs as he went through the garden. "Oddly enough, however, our friend Wodehouse can beat me in that," he said, with a smile, to Frank, who had followed him out. "Perhaps in other things too: who knows? Good-bye, and good luck, old fellow.' And thus the heir of the Wentworths disappeared into the darkness, which swallowed him up, and was no more. MRS. MARGARET OLIPHANT. ACTIONS AND MOTIVES. FROM AN ADDRESS DELIVERED BEFORE A COURT OF JUSTICE. "Good-bye, sir; I hope you'll live a hun-AM now speaking of the criminal characdred years," he said, wringing his father's hand, "if you don't last out half a dozen of me, as you ought to do. But I'd rather not anticipate such a change. In that case," the ter of conspiracy. It is not necessary that an act should be done at all. Nay, if the act be a felony, the conspiracy is lost utterly, for, being but a misdemeanor, it is merged in the graver offence. It is the agreement to do the act which constitutes the crime. Your Honor will perceive the beautiful philosophy of the law. The whole law, and especially the criminal law, consists of a system of checks and safeguards. It is the protection of the community against vice, and subserves the divine law in forming, guarding and inducing virtue in man. That is the basis of it; built upon that, the object is not to punish: the object is to prevent or reform. What does it do? As long as man keeps his design within his heart, within his breast—though it be of demoniac gloom and blackness-of course human tribunals cannot suspect it and cannot affect it. He is left to the punishment of the Omnipotent, "for darkness and light are both alike to him." He alone can pry into the deep recesses of the sinner's bosom, drag forth the secret motive from its hiding-place and expose it to the reproaches of an affrighted and horror-stricken world. What can man do in such a case? I can tell you what he can do, and what he does do. The moment that by the slightest whisper the inward workings and purposes of the culprit's mind are communicated to the officers of justice he becomes amenable to justice. Beautiful system! Here is a man who intends to take the life of another; his motive and his purpose are known only to that Power that can fathom the ocean. The motive there is equal to the act; it is the act itself. The motive here is nothing till it be accompanied by the act, because it cannot be detected. DAVID PAUL BROWN. WISDOM OF TALLEYRAND. FROM THE FRENCH MAXIMS OF CHARLES MAURICE TALLEYRAND. TALLEYRAND'S wit and wisdom, as well as his literary capacity, appear in sentences and condensed sayings rather than in lengthened discussions : "Our welcome of a stranger depends upon the name he bears-upon the coat he wears; our farewell, upon the spirit he has displayed in the interview." "There is so great a charm in friendship that there is even a kind of pleasure in acknowledging one's self duped by the sentiment it inspires." "The reputation of a man is like his shadow-gigantic when it precedes him, and pigmy in its proportions when it follows." Beauty devoid of grace is a mere hook without the bait.' "He who cannot feel friendship is alike incapable of love. Let a woman beware of the man who owns that he loves no one but herself." "The rich man despises those who flatter him too much, and hates those who do not flatter him at all.” "Love is a reality which is born in the fairy region of romance." "The love of glory can only create a hero; the contempt of it creates a great man." "The stream of vice will flow as naturally into palaces as the common sewer flows into the river and the river flows onward to the sea.' "Nothing succeeds so well as success. Translation of CHARLES K. MCHARG. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. POLITIANO.* NGELO POLITIANO was born on the 24th of July, 1454, at Monte Pulciano (Mons Politianus), a castle of which he adopted the name instead of that of Ambrogini, borne by his father. He applied himself with ardor to those scholastic studies which engaged the general mind in the fifteenth century. Some Latin and Greek epigrams which he wrote between the age of thirteen and seventeen surprised his teachers and the companions of his studies. But the work which introduced him to Lorenzo de' Medici, and which had the greatest influence on his age, was a poem on a tournament in which Julian de' Medici was the victor, in 1468. From that time Lorenzo received Politiano into his palace, made him the constant companion of his labors and his studies, provided for all his necessities, and soon afterward confided to him the education of his children. Politiano, after this invitation, attached himself to the more serious studies of the Platonic philosophy, of antiquity and of law; but his poem in honor of the tournament of Julian de' Medici remains a monument of the distinguished taste of the fifteenth century. This celebrated fragment commences like a large work. In fact, if Politiano had *From the Works of J. C. L. Simonde de Sismondi. merely intended to celebrate the tournament in which Julian was victor, he would have found it very difficult to finish his poem, since in one hundred and fifty stanzas, forming a book and a half, he only arrives at the first preparations for the tournament. But I willingly suppose that his design was of a more extended nature and more worthy of the epic Muse. He probably intended, after the death of Julian-to which he alludes in the second book-to combine in a chivalrous description all that could be found interesting in the character of this young prince whose loves he was recording. Politiano, indeed, must soon have discovered that he had not made choice of a hero who could excite either his own admiration or that of his reader -events and actions were wanting-and this was doubtless his reason for abandoning his work almost at its commencement. But this mere opening of a long poem will not suffer from comparison with those of the greatest writers, and neither Tasso nor Ariosto exceeds Politiano in his management of the octave stanza, in the spirit of his narration, in the grace and vivacity of his coloring, and in his union of an enchanting harmony with the richest and most varied description. most varied description. The poet represents Julian in the flower of his youth, devoted to the brilliant career of manly exercises, aspiring after glory and contemning the shafts of love. He allures the young companions of his games and exer It is not without regret that we contemplate the fine genius of Politiano. Before the age of nineteen, without a model or a predecessor, he had successfully attempted the epic and tragic walks of poetry, and has left us poems which, though little more than fragments, exact our high admiration. To what height of fame might he not have aspired if he had not abandoned the Italian Muse for Latin verse and for philosophical works which are now no longer perused! He died 24th of September, 1494. cises from a weakness which he despises; | or, rather, he created a new kind of pastoral he conducts them to the chase, and, him- tragedy, a description of poetry on which self the most agile, the most ardent and Tasso did not disdain to employ his genius. the bravest of all, he traverses the forest The fable of Orpheus (Favola di Orfeo) of and slays the fiercest of its inhabitants. Politiano was perforined at the court of ManBut Love, indignant to see his empire tua in 1483, on occasion of the return of the thus contemned, draws him off from the cardinal Gonzaga. It was composed in two pursuit by the means of a beautiful white days. hind, which separates him from his comrades and leads him by various windings into a flowery mead, where Simonetta presents herself to his view, while the enchanted hind vanishes in air. Julian now sees only the fair Ligurian, forgets the chase and foregoes his resolves against the power | of Love. Cupid, in the mean time, proud of his conquest, flies to the palace of his mother, in the isle of Cyprus, and boasts of his success; and the description of this enchanted palace has served as a model to Ariosto and to Tasso for the enchanted domes of Alcina and of Armida. This description may, perhaps, be too far extended, as the action of the poem is not accelerated by it, and the poet indulges himself too far in his pictures of mythology. In the second book, Simonetta, arrayed in the armor of Pallas, appears to Julian in a dream. She reminds him that it is only by valor that a hero should think of obtaining her heart. Julian awakes amidst the aspirations of glory and of love. But here Politiano has relinquished his work, and leaves us to regret either that a subject of a more noble nature and more exempt from flattery had not animated his genius, or that too severe a taste caused him to abandon that which he had already chosen. Politiano had the honor of reviving on the modern stage the tragedies of the ancients LOD Translation of THOMAS ROSCOE. ARIOSTO. FROM THE Works oF J. C. L. SIMONDE DE SISMONDI. ODOVICO ARIOSTO was born on the 8th of September, 1474, at Reggio, of which place his father was governor for the duke of Ferrara. He was intended for the study of jurisprudence, and, like many other distinguished poets, he experienced a long struggle between the will of his father, who was anxious that he should pursue a profession, and his own feelings, which prompted him to the indulgence of his genius. After five years of unprofitable study, his father at length consented to his devoting himself solely to literature. Ariosto then repaired to Rome, and it was there that he wrote in before the year prose, 1500, his comedy of La Cassaria, which, if not the earliest of the Italian comedies, may at least dispute this honor with the Calandra of Cardinal Bibbiena. He soon afterward gave to the public a second comedy, I Suppositi. At the same time we find him writing sonnets and love canzoni in the manner of Petrarch, but we know not of whom he was enamoured, nor whether his passion was real or feigned. He was not of a melancholy or enthusiastic temperament; his conversation was that of a man of wit and judgment; his manners were polished and reserved, and no peculiarities betrayed the poet in him. The death of his father, in 1500, recalled him to Ferrara, and the smallness of his fortune induced him to attach himself to the service of the cardinal Ippolito of Este, the second son of Hercules I. He accompanied the cardinal in his travels, and was employed by him in many important negotiations. But, although skilful in business, he never pursued it without a secret regret, until, to the chagrin of the prince, he began to occupy himself with the trifling pursuits of poetry. About the year 1505 he commenced his Orlando Furioso, and he prosecuted this long task for eleven years amidst the constant distraction of business. He read his cantos, as they were finished, to his friends and to persons of taste in Ferrara, and he paid a scrupulous attention to their criticisms, in order to polish and perfect his style. He was at length enabled, in the year 1516, to give the first edition of this poem, which now contains, in forty-six cantos, 4831 stanzas and 38,648 verses. The reception given to the Orlando Furioso in Italy was that of the most lively enthu siasm; before the year 1532 four editions had appeared. The cardinal Ippolito was the only person insensible to the merits of Ariosto, and in 1517 they separated with feelings of mutual distaste, on the poet refusing to accompany him into Hungary. A ruinous law-suit, however, constrained him in a little time to return again to court. Alfonso I. received him into his service and gave him an employment under the government. Ariosto was commissioned to suppress the banditti of the Garfagnana, and we are assured that amidst those lawless men his poetical fame preceded him and served him as a passport. The duke of Ferrara gave him, at length, an appointment more congenial to his taste that of superintending the erection of a theatre and directing the magnificent representations which he intended to give. Ariosto employed in this manner the last years of his life. With a very limited income, he provided for his children. He died on the 6th of June, 1533. His brother Gabriel and his son Virginio erected a monument to him, which after many injuries was restored in 1612 by one of his descendants. Translation of THOMAS ROSCOE. THE COLLECTION OF TITHES. FROM A SPEECH DELIVERED BEFORE THE HOUSE OF COMMONS ON TUESDAY, THE 13TH OF MARCH, 1787. A MULTITUDE of particulars would be tedious, but there are some features so very striking and prominent we cannot avoid the sight of them. Our present system of supporting the clergy is liable to radical objections. Distress has not been confined to the people: it has extended to the parson. |