should be made a stage to bring before the public the talent not only of the actor but of the author-and what is the end of this fatal distinction? The man of merit, unable to plead his own cause before the public, languishes for want of support and reputation-nay, too often for want of means—until at length he dies; and then-too late, alas!" the fame that all hunt after in their lives," and which might have prolonged his life in comfort, "lives ever registered upon his tomb" in useless parade, which serves only to bring to light his poverty and misfortunes. Moreover, by these means the taste of the public is pampered with unwholesome literature, and unfitted to appreciate a great genius which might in after time arise. Of the poverty and misery of authors why need I bring examples? Shall I refer to the melancholy and untimely end of Chatterton ?-shall I recall the wretched fate of Savage and of Otway, or the hard penury which was the companion of Johnson? It would occupy more space than could here be afforded me, and more time than any reader would wish to bestow upon the subject. Of the effect of the neglect of genius in life, and its appreciation after death, we have, in the present time, a striking example -that of one who, feeling his own power, strove to exhibit it to others; but who, being unsuccessful, "pined in thought," and, denied the privilege of wearing the wreath his own pen had gained him, "after life's fitful fever sleeps well," while the praise that should have blessed him falls only on the ear of his surviving relatives.

Why should these things be? The literature of a country, despised though it be in its own day, survives that country's fall. Greece and Rome, dead indeed as states, yet live in the authors who sprang from them; and our own Shakspere shall be read when the other glories even of England shall be heard no more.

Indeed, the author and the poet give immortality not to themselves alone, but also to the land of their birth. The laurels of the hero, and the fame of the statesman shall perish, while the name of the poet shall live throughout eternity. When the armour of the warrior shall have rusted, and the statutes of the statesman shall have mouldered into dust,-when the tongue of the orator shall have become dumb, and the fame of a people shall have perished, perhaps upon the very site where once it flourished, shall some simple song of its poet be sung by some traveller from distant lands, who recalls from the wreck of past generations the "melody that cannot die." And Time himself, as he pauses to behold the

ruin he has made, shall behold springing up, phoenix-like, from desolation, the memory of that nation which in the poet's verse lives ever young, and

"Finds its monument,

When tyrant's crests and tombs of brass are spent.”

Let, then, that nation that would stand chronicled in all ages keep this in view, and lend all aid and encouragement to authors and to literary men :_so shall it be able to say, in the words of the poet,

NATURE'S POET.

METHOUGHT I wandered upon fairy ground, in a garden where grew flowers of every hue, and spirit-forms-souls as yet uncumbered with a shroud of clay-were roaming there at freedom.

And I knew the mystery of that enchanted place :—the varied blossoms are the sources whence emanate all Nature's gifts, and the free soul, as it wanders in that garden, drinks in from the flower it loves the best the virtue of its odours. Thus influenced it enters into the form of man, its earthly habitation.

There, among others, tall Ambition grew, as a lofty spreading tree, hiding the bright sunshine from all beneath its influence, and causing a barren waste around the spot that gave it birth. Under its shade some spirits revelled,-spirits of the future great,-and inhaled its noxious power. Love, too, grew there, in fragrant beds, more delightful even than the tender violets of earth, and souls unborn there first were taught to sympathize with one another. And there were countless more; but, above all, was one whose perfume each breeze wafted through the garden until it formed the sweetest character of that enchanted ground. Those who felt its influence from afar confessed its wondrous power, though bedded amid weeds, fetid and noxious; and the souls that wandered near paused with reverent rapture by the beauteous flower;-no violence could tear them thence; and the witching fragrance was infused into these favoured spirits, and they became more beautiful than their fellows.

The flower I knew was POESY; and I beheld those souls which stood around, that, when at length they entered into their appointed tenements of earth, they retained that surpassing beauty even so that the world admired and worshipped them as divine, and held their names as sacred syllables. And the odour of the fairy flower streamed from those glorious souls, and men crowded around them to catch the hallowed influence, pouring the offering of softened hearts at the feet of NATURE'S POET.

HAL.

TO A SPIRIT GROWING ON A FLOWER.

(From Jean Paul.)

LOVELY Poesy art thou. Only in the fairest flower art thou rooted; but thence springs forth a being that is divine.

TALES OF A SPANISH VETERAN.

HASSAN THE LION-SLAYER.

(Continued from page 98.)

WE left Gonzales and his companions performing their evening devotions, after which the old man retired into his cottage, having bidden a kindly good night to the band of attentive listeners; who, after lingering awhile to talk over the incidents of the tale, likewise sought their homes amid the hills, and upon the green slopes, where they dwelt in peace and security, for as yet the devastating war of succession had not broken out, and the names of Carlist and Christino were unknown amongst them.

The next night they met again beneath the umbrageous chestnuts, and the tale was resumed, no more to be interrupted until its conclusion.

"Thus stood affairs, when there happened an event which gave Hassan an opportunity of proving his love for Zadie, and earned for him a title which he ever after bore. One evening the maiden went forth, according to custom, to meet the other daughters of the tribe beside the spring of gushing waters, which I have already described to you. She passed slowly along the tangled path, her lovely face bent earthward, for her mind was wandering in the realms of fancy, and many bright images and fair scenes were presented to her inward view. None behold the workings of that beautiful countenance, for the veil, without which highly-born eastern maidens go not abroad, enshrouds it; but the gentle heaving of that finely-moulded bosom, just budding into the ripeness of womanhood, and the soft sighs that now and then steal upon the breezes, eager to catch and to waft them around, betray what thoughts are astir within that guileless breast. Were these signs and symptoms not sufficient, the name of Hassan,' whisperingly and lingeringly articulated, as though it were a name sweet to dwell upon, would at once assure us of the nature of the maiden's thoughts. What startles the fair dreamer from her reverie? Why does she suddenly pause, and, with clasped hands, stand, statuelike, half turned, in act to fly, yet seemingly bound to the spot by some strange power of fascination? A crashing sound is heard among the branches, and a low growl, like thunder muttering in

the distance louder and louder yet it swells, until it bursts in a terrific roar that fills the vault of heaven, and curdles the very blood in the veins of her who now stands confronting a furious and angry lion, that, through the negligence of its keepers, had escaped from the enclosure before described. The monster had started up from his crouching position amid the long grass which bordered the narrow and retired path, wherein, for the better indulgence of pleasing reflections, Zadie had chosen to walk; and, now, with tail erect, and flashing eyes, and far-projecting fangs, seemed preparing to spring upon his shrinking victim. For a moment only did Zadie's heart fail her, when the blood, rushing back to its citadel, left her tremulous and irresolute; for soon the natural courage of her warlike race vindicated itself, and she was enabled to reflect on her perilous situation, and call up all her energies to meet the threatened danger. She knew that an attempt to fly would entail certain destruction; for the lion, with a single bound, could overtake her, sped she never so swiftly, and would be sure to spring upon one who fled from him; whereas, by continuing to face the creature she might keep him at bay, by means of that mysterious power which the human eye possesses over the fiercest of created things. She knew also that it was in vain to call aloud for help, for she was far from any tent or path frequented by the people of the tribe; and, therefore, tearing off her veil, that her glance might have the more effect, she turned full upon the growling animal, and with arms crossed upon her bosom, that heaved and fell with the quick breathing of intense excitement, with feet firmly planted, lips compressed, and the veins standing out like knotted cords upon her ample brow, usually smooth as polished ivory, she seemed the personification of dauntless resolution, prepared to suffer the worst that might betide, and yet not without an effort at self-salvation, since in one small hand was firmly grasped the poniard, which, in conformity with the custom of the land, she ever wore in her waist-girdle.

"The lion quailed beneath her stedfast gaze, and drew back like one who is dazzled with excess of light. Shaking his flowing mane, he half closed his eyes, and sunk gradually down into his former crouching position; there, with head resting upon his outstretched paws, he lay vigilant, his eyes gleaming from out the umbrageous shade like coals of living fire. The maiden now stepped back a pace, and half withdrew her gaze, and again the monster sprang from his covert, with a threatening growl; again