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offer; not willing, however, to make her con- , blond trimming round my morning cap was sent too cheap, she said, “You must allow me, widened; but all would not do: I could not permy dear sister, to consult Mr. Musgrave; should suade either myself or other people into the behe consent to part with the children, I assure lief that I was still the blooming, dazzling you that your wish shall receive no opposition Althea Musgrave. I was about five-and-thirty, from me."

when my mother one morning, bending over me “You have my free leave to go through the to inspect a landscape that I was sketching, beform of consulting Mr. Musgrave,” said Ma- held a grey hair in my head : no one was present dame de Meronville, with a slight curl of her but a lad of seventeen, a cousin of my father's; lip. “I cannot doubt what his answer will be: and she gave free vent to her lamentations over you and he are completely engrossed by Althea, her unfortunate discovery, seeming to regard it and as she has now attained the age at which quite in the light of a plague-spot: I pulled it nobody will feel very eager to rob you of her out, to oblige her-an operation in which I was society, you may enjoy it, unbroken by the in- not quite a novice, for I had pulled out several trusion of your poor slighted younger daugh- privately. ters.”

“How very annoying !" said my mother ; This speech, notwithstanding its truth (or “ I detest the sight of grey hairs !" perhaps because of its truth), occasioned my “Now there I differ from you,” said my mother to feel rather indignant; but she quitted young cousin, who was studying logic, and the room in silence, not to ask my father's con- therefore took occasion to differ from everybody sent to the arrangement, but to claim his con- on every subject. “There is something very gratulations on the great saving of expence that poetical in grey hairs." it would be to them when the education of Dora “So there may be," said my mother, “when and Katherine was paid for by their aunt.” they belong to old people ; but not when they

“Their school accounts were certainly ex- make their appearance at Althea's age.”. tremely high,” said my father.

“Nay,” said my cousin, “that is the very “And they have been very expensive to us in time I like to see them. I can't bear to hear old many other ways," added my mother.

people complaining about their sons and daughMy father was silent; the “ many other ters, nephews, and nieces disregarding and ways” did not present themselves to his mind; despising their grey hairs. I quite agree with but he had given his acquiescence, and my an observation in one of Mrs. Gore's tales, that mother eagerly conveyed it to her sister. In a 'people never allude to their grey

hairs except few days, Dora and Katherine left us; they were for some canting purpose.' At Althea's age it in high spirits, delighted with the company of is different; she will say nothing about them their aunt, and elated with the thought of visit- herself, but leave it to other people to apostroing Paris. I wept as I took leave of them; Iphise them. I remember once reading some felt some compunction for not having been more pretty lines, addressed by a gentleman to the attentive to them. My mother held her hand- first grey hair in his wife's head.” kerchief to her eyes, therefore it is candid to “Xe might have found a more agreeable subconclude that she had occasion for it; but the ject to write on, I think,” said my mother. young travellers did not shed a tear. “I was The only fault that I find with his poem,” quite right in saying that they had no affec- pursued my cousin," is that the title of it is untions,” remarked my mother, removing the true : there is no such thing as a grey hair.”' handkerchief from her eyes, as the carriage “No such thing as a grey hair !" exclaimed drove away; "it is a comfort, poor things, to my mother in surprise. think that I have never done them injustice !"

| "I will prove to you that there is not,” replied The ensuing few years afforded no incident my cousin. "There is many a grey head of worthy of remark; my share of the world's ad- hair, and the effect arises from the intermingling miration became smaller and smaller, and I had of white with dark hairs ; but no single hair can daily occasion to feel that

be grey. Look at that which Althea has just

taken out; it is decidedly white.” ". Time, who steals our years away,

“I wish it had never appeared,” said my Will steal our pleasures too."

mother, looking pensively at it, and evidently

too much vexed with the sight of it to give any My mother, however, lamented the “decline praise to the logic of her young guest. and fall” of my reign of beauty far more deeply “ Never mind, Althea," said he, turning to than I did myself. The observations of Madame me; “I am sure that, with or without grey de Meronville had opened her eyes to the fact hairs, you look much prettier than many who that I was no longer in the season of girlhood, are younger than yourself

. There is Araminta a period which she had hitherto seemed to Marsden, who has quite got an air of oldthink had been magically prolonged for my maidish stiffness and uprightness; my friend sake, and she now endeavoured, by every means Harry Lloyd says that she looks as if she had in her power, to revive and renew my faded lived all her life on ‘ramrod-broth!"" beauty: she had rose-coloured curtains to the I did not laugh at Harry Lloyd's wit; a lady drawing-room windows, and exquisitely painted of thirty-five seldom sanctions a joke on the oldblinds, which were never to be drawn up; the maidism of one two years her junior. blond fall of my bonnet was deepened, and the “ And after all,” pursued my tormen

tor, an old maid may make herself extremely useful and agreeable in a family, if she thinks proper; and there is no fear of the race of the Musgraves coming to a termination; Dora and Katherine are sure to get husbands. Harry Lloyd has a friend in Paris, and he wrote him word that he had seen them, and that they were both perfect beauties, in a different style; so you see, Althea, your future duties may be safely predicted : you will be a notable, kind-hearted spinster-aunt, bestowing sweetmeats and spelling-lessons, lollypops, and lectures on a numerous train of curly-headed nephews and nieces !"

Fortunately visitors now entered, and the young gentleman took his leave, thereby saving himself from a storm of indignation on the part of my mother, who now contented herself with remarking at intervals during the remainder of the day, that “boys were insufferable nuisances !” About three years after this time I met with an incident which caused me to sigh, but will probably cause my readers to smile.

(To be continued.)



“Let none dare say the picture is exaggerated, till he has taken the trouble to ascertain, by his own personal investigation, that it is so. It is a very fearful crime, in a country where public opinion is found to be omnipotent, for any individual to sit down with a shadow of doubt respecting such statements in his mind. If they be true, let each in his little circle raise his voice against these horrors, and these horrors will be remedied; but woe to those who supinely sit in contented ignorance of the fact, soothing their spirits and their easy consciences with the cuckoo. note

exaggeration,' while thousands of helpless children pine away their miserable lives in labour and destitution, incomparably more severe than any ever produced by negro slavery.”-MICHAEL ARM.

Where all so lovely in a child,

Is but a name, a breath,
Crush'd, blighted, wither'd, oft defiled,

With not one hope but death-
Where nature's loveliest ties are riven,

The daily bread to gain,
And deeper, wilder anguish given,

If aught like love remain ?
The father snatches as his own

What little hands obtain ;
A mother's love-oh here alone

Its pleadings are in vain.
She dures not feel, for deeper woe

Would be her wretched lot ;
She cannot feel, for sunk thus low,

E'en nature is forgot.
England, my country! wilt thou rest

Indifferent to woes,
Foster'd and cherish'd on the breast

Which ought to give repose ?
Canst thou permit such things to be,

And yet with clarion tone
Proclaim to sky, and earth, and sea,

That slavery has flown ?
Canst thou not hear the harrowing cry,

From little children wrung,
That sends its wild note to the sky

On thine own echoes flung ?
And will thy sons no effort make

To wash out this foul stain,
And from thy name the shadow take,

Lest they decrease their gain?
Alas !--alas for this bright land !

If thus her children feel,
How may they as her guardians stand ?

A blot is on their steel-
A poison'd blot, that on their swords

Like foul, dull rust will lie;
And voices from their golden hoards

Shall echo to the sky,
Voices on earth that vainly plead,

But pierce unto God's throne;
How dare we pray for mercy's meed,

Who have not mercy shown ?
Oh ! if this charge be true, awake!

And wash away its shame;
And if 'tis false, one effort make

Its falsehood to proclaim.
Rise all, on whose ancestral land

Such crime has never been,
And open to inspection stand,

That all is pure within.
Prove that the charge is false, and oh !

A blessing on ye rest ;
For who can bear to think such woe

Lies on our country's breast ?
Awake! and ere to distant isles

Her power and might we send, Oh! let us guard her own hearth's smiles ;

Her joys no chains shall rend.
Arise ! ere other nations see,

And hold us up to shame.
Oh! England, set thine infants free :

Thus blazon forth thy fame!

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And is it so ? and can our land,

The beautiful, the free,
Which nobly shrunk from slav'ry's brand,

Permit such things to be?
She, who once bade her trumpet-voice

Sound wide o'er ocean's foam,
Callid on the Negro to rejoice,

Will she not look at home ? She who, with stern resolve, o'erweigh'd

What seem'd a nation's gain,
Remov'd from off her isles the shade

Of slavery's blacken'd stain :
Will she not wake and look around,

Where her own sons are slaves,
And list unto the hollow sound

Of ever op'ning graves ?
Will she not mark the murky cloud

O'er-sweeping many a town,
Where infant limbs in toil are bow'd,

And young hearts trampled down

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Now lightly draw thy breath,
And smile again, as when thy heart was young :

The hopes, the fears, the joys, the cares of earth,

The confidence destroyed e'en in its birth,
The love unknown, unsung-

All, all are passed and gone;
Calm beats the pulse that fluttered even now,

Thy lip hath gained its smile, thine eye its light, The soul within shines out with lustre bright, The cloud hath left thy brow !

Rejoice, thou child of earth,
And look above, for Heaven is smiling there;

And He, for whom we live, will not deny
His mercy to the pleading of thine eye,
His blessing to thy prayer.

Then happiness to thee,
And bliss divine, even whilst waiting here,

'Till ministering angels shall come down

Upon thy dying brow, to place a crown, And bear thee to their sphere !


TO E. C. C.


BY W. G. J. BARKER, ESQ. The snow-flower blooms on Wensley's banks,

By Aysgarth Force the hazel buds, The rabbit through the bracken pranks,

The throstle sings in Bolton woods ; And joyous hums the mountain bee,

The spring will soon be in her primeMy Mary, shall I sing to thee

A song to suit this merry time? It is not oft my strains are glad,

Except thy charms they strive to tell; But who could well be grave or sad

When Nature laughs on strath and fell ? And though the cheerful lay I wake,

As 'tis unwonted, brief must be.
My Mary, for thy gentle sake,

The verse I dedicate to thee.
Look, love, across the cloudless sky,

Then mark yon violet's tender blue ;
Dearest, thine own expressive eye

Surpasses either's melting hue. In Bolton woods, from elm or oak,

The wild birds warble all day longMary, a word that once you spoke

My heart still deems the sweetest song.
Whene'er your soft low voice I hear,

That moment's raptures I recall;
You blush'd, yet bade me cease to fear-

Nay, fairest, shall I whisper all ?
And though since then at times my lot

Has been o'ercast, as man's must be, Mary, you never have forgot

The willing vows you pledg'd to me. Not yet the rose unfolds its flowers,

Whose tints can scarcely match thy bloom; The lilies wait refreshing showers

To raise them from their wintry tomb : But freshly springs the primrose pale,

Amid its tuft of velvet greenMary, it feared no lingering gale,

And such thy love for me has been. Then whilst on Wensley's verdant banks,

O'er Yore the willow flings her buds, Whilst through the brake the rabbit pranks,

And cushots build in Preston woods, Whilst squirrels bound from tree to tree,

And linnets grect Spring's coming prime, My Mary, do I sing to thee

This song to suit the cheerful time.
Banks of the Yore.

Fair one, on this oft changing earth,
Where greatest villany and worth

In strange co-mingling move ;
Where sordid pelf all else defies,
Where virtue bows a sacrifice,

And avarice is love-
A proud, conceited, peevish thing,
A honey'd bee with fiercest sting,

A wheedler badly bold,
Whose one absorbent joy and pain
Is grappling, seizing, searching gain

From misery untold-
Such is the world. Too oft, alas !
The greatest deeds unnoticed pass

For silliness and folly ;
As sweetest flowers neglected fade,
Whilst rankest weeds their beauty shade,

And thrive in ruin holy.
Fair maid, in desert far away,
Where verdant nature holds no sway,

Some blessed spot is given ;
Thus have you kindly bloomed here,
In this more dark and frigid sphere,

To make of earth a heaven.
Some beauties prate of pretty names,
And each one fondest preference claims,

Nor let us, then, condemn her. Pray list, fair one, to friendship's prayer, That Cupid may with loving care

Link Frederick oft with Emma.
And while you kindly, sweetly smile
On one whose only hope awhile

Is centred in your bliss,
Like angel smiling from above
You'll make for him a heaven of love,

And seal it with a kiss.
May choicest flowers strew thy path,
And worldly care and fiercer wrath

Thy fairy footsteps shun;
That when more youthful joys decay
Thou’lt deem it still a happy day

That linked your souls in one.


Turn from the world,
Thou of the heavy brow and weary heart :

Thy spirit is unfitted for the strife

Which foolish mortals in their pride call “ Life :" Turn, turn thee thence-depart!

Enter these cloistered walls, Where calm, yet smiling, ever dwells “ Repose;"

Gaze on the holy beauty of her face :

No passions there to mar the tranquil grace, That Peace around her throws.


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The first scene of our little romance in real and sent away, while it is yet fresh and pure as
life, as we may truly term it, is laid in a spot her own loving heart, to one who will know
which common and everyday associations have well how to prize the simple offering,
so familiarized to many of our readers as to . A tall, thin woman, clad in widows' weeds, has
divest it in their opinion of all claim to the just paused, to ask the price of some early fruit;
poetical or picturesque—Covent Garden Market. the owner of which answers her question with-
But then there are others, those of the dream- out even turning towards her, or quitting his
ing heart and the kindly spirit, ever ready to go present employment, and, in a tone of voice
with us in our sweet faith of the universality of that said almost as plainly as his words, “Too
the poetry of human life, haunting and per- dear for such as you!”
vading not only the green valley and the silent “Why it's like eating so much gold !” ex-
plain, but every crowded nook and alley of this claimed a bystander,

Leigh Hunt, in his new work, “ Imagina. "Better give the 'money to the poor,” said
tion and Fancy," the freshness and beauty of the speaker again, as he turned away, while a
which no one can either fancy or imagine little ragged girl who stood near, catching the
unless he be won into reading it, has devoted import of his words, threw aside the remainder
seventy pages to the consideration of a question of a decayed apple which she was trying to eat,
few are better fitted to solve—“What is Poetry?" and looked up pitifully in the woman's face.
But viewing the subject, as we do, in a very But sorrow had made the poor widow selfish,
different light, the answer is plain and simple and passing by the little suppliant, she entered
enough : All good deeds are acted poetry?the shop, and actually purchased a small quan-
And, thanks be to God, we can turn over but tity of that tempting looking fruit, which the
few pages in the volume of human life, without man had truly said was like eating so much
finding it scattered up and down, even amidst gold. Telling the person who served her, that
its darkest episodes, and histories of crime and it was for a sick child, and that it was only the
suffering half blotted out with tears, like a night before he had been wishing for some, it
blessing—but it must be sought in faith! And being his favourite fruit, but she had not thought
now, for the sake of illustration, we shall copy to be able to gratify him so soon. Whereupon
out a few stanzas, reducing them into plain the man, who had grown somewhat more civil,
prose as we proceed.

hoped it would do him good, and that he would
It was a bright spring morning; the air was get quite well as the summer came on. His
heavy with perfume, although, truth to say, not mother hoped so too; but she feared also, and
always equally agreeable. The fruit and flowers long after the smile had passed away from her
looked so fresh and tempting, one scarcely knew pale face, the lingering traces of tears were still
which to desire most; the people all busy and discernible.
active, buying and selling, or appearing very The poor widow had got almost out of sight
inuch as if they would like to do so if they had with her purchase, when she turned back, as
but the money or the chance. Two merry- though impelled by a sudden and irresistible
eyed girls, accompanied by their mamma, are impulse, to give the change to the little ragged
singling out flowers for the evening bouquet, girl, before mentioned, and the child's grateful
laughing and talking the while of a thousand blessing was well worth all the money, and did
anticipated pleasures; and a third, quite as her heart a world of good. There is a whole
young and pretty, as far as we can judge from volume of poetry in this simple incident! And
the deep crape veil which she wears over her now we pass on at once to the subject of our
face, is watching through the window for them little history.
be suited, and then goes in timidly for a At the time of which we write, Mary Ashton

blossom of some token-flower, which is was scarcely nineteen. No one would have
placed in an envelope ready prepared, imagined it, to gaze on the deep, sunken eye,

and thin faded cheek, from which all traces of “But what are you about ? You have given youth and health had almost entirely passed me sixpence too much." away. But then it was no marvel, considering “You said eighteenpence, ma'am.” how the girl toiled, sometimes as many as six- "A shilling-are you deaf, child ? or have teen hours out of the four-and-twenty, and for you so much money that you do not know what all that was so poor that it very frequently hap- to do with it ?” pened she knew not exactly where the next meal “No, indeed," replied Mary, taking up her was to come from. But Mary had a sweet faith sixpence with a cheerful air. After all, she was of her own, that God would provide; and was right in thinking that the old woman did not wont to notice with thankfulness, that when look half so cross as she spoke, it was only her matters seemed worst, something was sure to manner that seemed harsh. God had given her turn up, very often in the most strange and un- a kind heart. expected manner. Poor Mary! she was used Mary hurried home, feeling rich indeed. The to working hard ; she never complained of that; room in which she lived, and worked, and slept, the only difficulty was to find work to do. was situated on the ground floor of a small

On the morning to which we refer, she had house, in an obscure and crowded part of the been to take home some, the owners of which metropolis, and was meanly and scantily furnot only commended her neat sewing (for she nished. But somehow, when she had placed did sew very neatly when she had time), but had her treasure in a struggling gleam of sunlight given her a whole week's employment beside : on the window ledge, it seemed on a sudden to and the girl, in happy mood-a very little thing have assumed quite a gay and cheerful appearmade her happy had come a full quarter of an ance; so much so that the girl could not help hour's walk out of her way, in order to pass calling in one of her neighbours, who occupied through the market, and treat herself with the the adjoining apartment with her husband and sight and smell of the flowers--it was a treat to children, and worked at the shoe-trade, to ad. her.

mire it with her. Suddenly she started, and paused before one

“Ah! it's what we don't often see now," said in a pot, placed for sale along with several Mrs. Brown, “and does one's heart good to others, gazing at it like a person in a dream. look at ; but would it not have been better to Many years ago she had had one given her just put by the money towards something

more uselike it, but it was dead now; and maybe Mary ful? and you do want a great many things, you had been simple enough to imagine that there know." was no other in all the world. Still half doubt

“Yes, there is no end to my wants, I am ing. she inquired its name; and the gardener, afraid ; but does it not look fresh and beauseeing that she only shook her head with a

tiful ?” bewildered air when he mentioned the Latin,

“Very; and yet I have heard somewhere that added the common English signification, in pity flowers are not good in a room.” to her ignorance ; upon hearing of which, she

“I am sure I can't tell what harm they can burst into an exclamation of joyful surprise, do,” replied Mary, as she drew a chair, and " It was the very same!”

sitting down opposite her new purchase, began “Do you want to buy anything, young wo

to sew very busily; and whether it was fancy man?" asked the mistress of the shop, in an

or not, her work seemed to go on twice as fast

as usual. imperious tone, as some moments elapsed, and

Thinking of pleasant things does she still continued bending over her newly found make the hours speed on at a most unaccounttreasure ; while the idea flashed across Mary's

able rate, and many a sweet reminiscence of mind for the first time, that such a luxury might by-gone days was connected with Mary Ashton's indeed be hers once again. There were tears

flower. on her face when she lifted it up to inquire the times when she had possessed just such another,

It seemed almost like a dream, those happy price. The woman asked eighteenpence. It was a

the gift of one far away in a foreign land; but great deal of money to be sure for a flower;

for that she would have forgotten when her but then what a comfort it would be, what a How merry they were then! Mary, and her

birth-day was, for she had never kept one since. sweet companion during the many long hours when she sat sewing all by herself. She should parents, and her bright-eyed, frank-hearted

She could remember only have to work the harder, and go

cousin, Tom Overton.

without her tea for a few evenings, or she would save it the very songs she sang, on that particular up in a thousand ways; and meditating thus, night, and him praising them; but her voice Mary drew out her little stock, a third of which thought what the future held in store for them!

was hoarse and broken now. Oh, they little would be consumed in the purchase, and laying Six months afterwards, our poor heroine was a down the price in silence, held out her arms for desolate and friendless orphan. And he who the flower.

loved her so truly, what could he do, boy as he “Is it for yourself ?” asked the woman, who

was then ? Nothing, but accept the offer of a had been attentively regarding her.

distant relative, and accompany him to India, “Yes, ma'am,” replied Mary, timidly, and from whence he confidently expected to return blushing as she spoke, at the thought of her in an incredibly short space of time, loaded with own extravagance,

a portion of that fabled wealth which was to

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