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the race of life on the earth as ye will be under the hoards of those who have kept them closed it. Tear away every man from his heart that at the cry of the wretched, and the voice of the veil which the world has taught him to draw distressed; who had turned away from the wants over those affections that were bestowed upon of their fellow-creatures, of the widow and of him by nature; look upon all as friends and the orphan, to gaze fascinated on the indelicate brothers, sojourners in a land of joy and sorrow, spectacle of the ballet, to pour out tributes of and aid up the hill of life each poor straggler praise, and heap around with beautiful and frathat tremblingly holds out his hand for assis- grant flowers that one who, one would have tance.

thought, must have withered their loveliness Men of pleasure, who look upon the lowly as and shamed their purity. C- surrounded your prey because they are lowly, and who mind by flowers, the modern Flora hung round with not the breaking of the fond heart, dimming the chaplets of nature's fairest tributes, worshipped eye of light, and ruining the current of hap- by the debauché and the roué. Well may the piness for ever, because the object of your passion adored of the ballet feel proud, and imagine is clothed in stuff instead of satin ; what say herself equal to the unchaste goddess of old; you to the stings that memory will bring back well may she triumph, and say,

“ It's mineto you? Will you fly them? You cannot, can- earned it myself.” Alas! how truly did this not. Too well I know that many a one who simple paragraph tell the tale of humanity-how has sinned in his days of youth would amend his truly did it pourtray the characters of the rich ways, and, if he could, would bring back peace and of the gay; they sported their thousands, where he had left woe; but there is a great their jewels, and their more valued time, and bugbear that frights us all, the opinion of the their applaudings upon a woman, whose sole world; we dare not stoop to do justice where we right to all was, that she displayed to the gaze had crawled to commit sin; the man of wealth of myriads, both to men and to women, that and of nobility dares not do justice to the one he which in very modesty should be concealed. has injured. Like some dark, dreary gulf, from Wreaths of towers nightly descended on her; which we start back horror-stricken, is the scorn the raptures of nobles and of high-born dames of our kind; their mockery, their sneers, their sounded in her ears; the elite of England, the ridicule, are like rolling waves of fire, that scorch grandest nation in the world, meet together to as we come within their reach, and rather than pay a tribute of praise to her who, after all, can brave the flames to do good, we would fly them doʻnought but twist herself into unnatural attito commit evil, and plunge deeper and deeper tudes, and raise, by her unfeminine display, into the wild vortex of pleasure, that oblivion amid the melting strains of music, passions and may erase from the spirit the remembrance of feelings that lead to half the evils that fall upon what has been done ; but 'tis in vain, when the her sex. giddy round of gaiety begins to pall upon you, And yet some, even amid the whirl of then will come reflection, aye, as surely as effect pleasure and of fashion, have hearts moulded in follows cause; and so surely will come each the goodliest shape, and which beat with the victim of injured innocence, each smile you have warmest and best feelings that adorn humanity. turned to tears, each light footstep you have I was standing some time since at the door of caused to falter on its path, bringing with them the Opera House, and was witness to one of the poisoned chalice of self-reproach. Then go these sweet roses that render bright a wilderness mourn, then go hang over the grave of the one of weeds. I was idly enough employed, gazing you caused to go down to it with a broken heart, upon the rank and beauty that were entering and as you weep tears of blood over it, wonder like devotees, to worship at the shrine of pleathat the maker of the bright and beautiful sure, when my eye fell upon a raggedly clothed world does not bury you in its dust a cursed female, leaning against the lamp-post, holding and unforgiven creature.

in her hand a few boxes of lucifer matches;

poverty could not have offered a more uniis. I was turning over one of our daily papers takable picture of wretchedness. I have said she the other day, when my eye lighted upon the

was ragged, and that part of her dress which following paragraph :

was not in tat ters could not have kept her warm FINE ARTS : Por AIT OF * * *

* *.-A

even in an August evening; her face, thin and

very beautiful portrait of the above enchanting danseuse care-worn, still afforded some few traces of has just been published by Gainbard, of Paris and feminine beauty, but her cheek was pinched by London.

The adored of the hunger and broken-heartedness; and there was ballet looks us full in the face, her eye and mouth an apparent hopelessness of spirit in the of

gaze beaming in good humour and conscious satisfaction at her eye that was now raised, now drooped, as the success of her efforts to please. On the table are she murmured out “Charity.” Alas! alas ! it some of the golden tributes which her devoted ad

was murmured to those who were deaf to the mirers have offered to her shrine-a splendid tiara, voice of that charmer which would whisper to set with countless jewels, inscribed, "Gli Annicatori the heart, “Give.” a 1843-a medal-London, 1840,' &c.

The arm encircles the precious casket, and she seems to say by her she looked on them with a sigh, and then

As the gay in their sp lendid dresses floated in triumph, It's mine-I earned it myself.'!

upon herself, and her spirit could have sunk Triumph! And ought she not to triumph, to into the ground for very shame beneath the feet be proud of having extorted gold-jewels-from of these high-born and wealthy. I was jus starting forward to offer my mite, when a car- | SEVENTEEN HUNDRED AND FORTYriage drew up, and a young and lovely woman

FIVE. descended from it; I could see by her bearing, and the crest on her carriage, that she was one

(Imitation of a Scottish Jacobite Song.) of the noble of the land : the poor woman ap

BY W. G. J. BARKER, ESQ. proached her—that eye beaming with light, that cheek on which health and happiness had laid

Arise! sons of Albyn! their damask touch ; that step of light; that

The moment is nigh

When the gallant and noble lofty brow, white as Parian marble, surmounted

Must conquer or die. by a tiara of diamonds sparkling amid her long black tresses-surely, surely, all so fair outside

'Tis no hour for the banquet,

No time for the chase ; must cover a holy and virtuous spirit, a good and tender heart. The destitute creature thought

Call forth men strong in combat,

The swift in the race. so too, for she advanced towards her and held out her boxes of matches to her; she knew they

For the banner of Scotland were useless, but they were her pleas for charity.

Is spread as of yoreThe haughty beauty drew her magnificent dress

Grasp firmly your targets,

Unsheath each claymore. around her, as though the touch of poverty would have soiled it. I saw a curl of contempt growing

Like the streams of your mountains

Rush down on the vale, upon that lip, through which heaven might have

Whence the southron shall vanish spoken, and I trembled; but her look for an

Like mist in the gale. instant fell on that eye of beseechingness, on that figure of utter destitution, and that proud

From the face of your heroes lip trembled with pity, and there came a blush of

The tyrant will flee,

And the land of our fathers charity. Oh! it was so, so lovely, lovely as the first

Again shall be free. light of morning beaming on her cheek, andatear, I sawit glitter in that eye of melting softness which

Brave spirits departed

Look down from the sky, outshone the jewels that sparkled on her brow.

On the deeds of your children She stayed in her course, drew her purse from her

For Freedom who die. bosom-oh that gold could always find so dear a resting-place, 'twould never be a curse-and she

Still warm in their bosoms

Pure Loyalty glows, gave several coins to the poor creature, with her

And ten thousand are wearing blessing ; then hurried away that she might not

The bonny white rose. hear the thanks that she richly deserved. I could have fallen down and worshipped her; her

Wake, children of Albyn ! kind words had fallen on the heart of her she

And arm for your King !

Hlasten, like the hill eagles, had relieved, and she felt for a moment hap

On untiring wing! piness, happiness that had long deserted her ;

Arise for Charles Stuart, and she departed with a thankful spirit, perhaps to give food to a husband and children.

The gentle and brave ! And she, that child of mercy--no, I will say

Would ye bend to the stranger,

Or crouch with the slave ? nothing-let every heart read its own pages, and

Remember stout Wallace, the eloquence of words were as nothing. Let

And Bruce's bold deed; every hand be thus opened, and no need will

Be but staunch and leal-hearted, there be to tell how much the reward to her

THE RIGHT shall succeed ! own bosom when she lifted her voice to heaven that night, when she pressed her pillow, con

The son of the German

Will tremble for fear, scious of having done a good action in the sight

When he finds Scotland holdeth of God.

Her true Monarch dear.

The foreign usurper I have sadly wandered from my subject, but

Will fly from our land, again I must ask pardon; I ask but pity, but

And return, scorn'd and baffled, charity for the lowly, the poor and the op

To Elbe's rugged strand. pressed. Let me but know that I have awakened

Then joy to our Sovereign, but one chord of mercy in the heart towards

Our own lawful Kingthem, and I shall never regret having been asked

To the Stuart who cometh whether “I was in the coal trade."

Like fair flowers in spring! August, 1845.

Success to the White Rose!

Success to the brave !
To the traitor and stranger

A dungeon or grave!

And ye sons of Albyn,
When Friendship’s social chain unlinking,

Ye chiefs bold and high-
You mount, to quit the joyous group,

Resolve, like your fathers,
Oh! if you feel your spirits sinking,
The cordial is a stirup-cup.

To conquer or die !
X. Y, 2. Banks of the Yore.


(From the French of Adolphe Siret.)



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[The following story, taken from the life of the “How is this, my friend ? I thought you eminent German poet and novelist, Von Hoffman, departed." appears to us worthy of translation, as evincing * Sir-1-" qualities of the heart calculated to increase the inte

The poor youth could not finish the sentence, rest with which his works are generally read. It might truly be said of him, that everything human large tears stood in his eyes, he stammered aroused his sympathies—that nothing concerning his forth some unintelligible words, and after a fellow-man was deemed trivial by that benevolent minute of painful silence, he felt his hand and excellent man.]

grasped affectionately by that of Hoffman, who

knew well that no trifle could draw tears from A youth named Francis (it was said he had this brave fellow's eyes. no other name) was in the service of a printer “Francis, what is your trouble ?" to whom Von Hoffman confided his works, “ It is a deep, a real grief !” more especially his very popular “Tales of “Is it possible, my friend ! you, whom I have Fancy.' The young man was nineteen years of always seen so cheerful. What can you want?" age at the time our story commences; he was “Much!” said the youth, with a sigh. well constituted in mind and body. His noble “ Alas! and I am poor. Yet I will” countenance beamed with frank benevolence, “ It is not your money, Sir, that I have need and with that perfect serenity which a pure of—it is quite another thing; but since you

will conscience can alone impart. He was tall and kindly hear me, I will open my very heart to finely formed; his dark eyes were soft and lus- you. Yes, I will confess to you, Sir; love, love trous, notwithstanding the determined expres- | is the cause of my sorrow, my despair." sion of a brow on which firm thought was “Oh," murmured Hoffman, “it is o seated, and his head, adorned with natural thick love." curls, parted on either side after the manner of “What, Sir, only love! Have you ever the German students, was perfectly classical in known, have you ever felt it-you, who speak its outline. His dress was plain and simple, thus of a power strong enough to make man with the exception of a bright crimson neck- forgetful of all else beside? That charm, that cloth embroidered in white, which stood out like fascination, which makes us forget that anygold on copper from the russet garments of the thing but virtue exists—in whose sweet, sanctiworkman; there was nothing remarkable in his fying presence crime is unknown! and yetcostume. But Francis loved this handkerchief, and yet –” After this hurst of passionate feelhe had a pride in it. It had been the gift of ing Francis sank on a chair, hid his face in his Hoffman whose genius he venerated.

hands, and only replied after Hoffman had “Mr. Hoffman,” said the youth, advancing pressed him several times to explain himself, to the author, “I have brought you some with assumed indifference, “ Hear me, Sir; I proofs of the miscellaneous and imaginative shall endeavour to speak with coolness, and to pieces.”

speak as becomes a man, on this painful subject. Ah, many thanks, Francis; 'tis the third I love, and am beloved, by a young girl of sheet."

seventeen. She is beautiful, beautiful as the “No, Sir, the fifth.”

fairy-spirit of the virgins you have described so Really, how you work! Well done, Francis ! bewitchingly in one of your own tales. When you will certainly get on-you are a clever fel. I speak of the love of this maiden, I speak of a low. When do you want this proof?

thing as sacred, as real, as pure, as certain, as “As soon as possible, if you please, Sir." the love of your own mother for you, her son!

“Well, wait there; amuse yourself in the I can trust to a word, to a look of love from meantime by looking over these vignettes of her, as I can trust to my own honour; for when Dümarter. I shall have done immediately.” once such a being loves, she overshadows with And, in fact, in a very few minutes Hoffman her own purity the object blessed with her held out the manuscript to the young printer, I affection. 'Well-you must hear me out-in saying—“Here, Mr. Francis, is your work; presence of this heavenly purity, so late as good morning to you.”

yesterday, I had a vile, an atrocious thought“ Farewell, Sir.

pardon me, Sir, but we were alone, and I was Yet Francis lingered near the door, silent and so overwhelmed with my blind passion as to embarrassed, not daring to interrupt the labours ask her to elope with me; and, in the world's of his patron, who seemed to have resumed parlance, I called this a proof of love! justice, them with all his wonted energy. Five minutes truth, and would not name it dishonour ! I was had thus elapsed, when Hoffman, raising his wild, culpable, no doubt; but Genevieve rose head, exclaimed

with dignity from her seat, and demanded, with a

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come me.

solemn voice-'If such a request could be

“How! what!” interrupted Hoffman, “ you dictated by love to her, or respect to the laws of contemplated, then, not only for yourself, but God, who commands us to honour our parents for another, the deepest, the most deadly crime No, Francis,' she continued, you must first —that of suicide!") give up your God, and your mother, before you “I know it," said Francis, with bitterness. can counsel me to an act so unworthy, a Hoffman was absorbed in the most painful Christian maiden ! I threw myself at her reflections. He spoke not, so profound was his knees. I implored her pardon, but my chains reverie, for many minutes. At length he seized are rivetted a hundred fold by her resistance. Francis violently by the arm, and leading him I must make her my wife, or die a thousand to the door, said deaths.”

“Go, Sir, and tell Genevieve's mother that " In the name of all that is wonderful,” cried Hoffman has sworn to unite you to her daughHoffman, impatiently, “ what prevents your ter. Farewell : linger not !" doing so ?”

The door is closed on Francis, who, wild with “ What !” cried Francis, “ everything. Her joy, runs to Genevieve's house, whilst Hoffman, mother, my master, every one. Do you know reseating himself at his desk, exclaims-“That what they say to me? * You to think of mar- poor young fellow's honest love has quite overriage! without means, without money! Miser

He shall be married to his Geneable wretches that we are! When united by viéve.” the voice of God, he asks—'Have you love?' It was not without some difficulty that Francis Man asks—Have you money?.

found his way to the home of his beloved. Joy “ It is but too true!” cried Hoffman; “is had so troubled his perceptions that he took there no possible means ?”

many a wrong turning before his arrival. “ Alas! none.

My master has warned me The object of his thoughts, however, did not that if I marry he will dismiss me. Genevieve's come to meet him, as formerly, with her face of mother has plainly acquainted me with her de innocent joy; the house had a mournful aspect, termination never to receive a son-in-law with- and that deep silence reigned within, which out a fortune; and it is as impossible for me to generally denotes some domestic misfortune. proffer riches as it is to forget my love. Now,

In vain did Francis look around for some one best, wisest friend, advise me, tell me what I of whom to make inquiries; all was desolate. must do ? but above all, do not say a word on At length he ventured to push open the door of the subject of giving up Genevieve ! anything a little chamber which overlooked the landingelse I can listen to."

place; he enters and beholds Genevieve's Here the youth, overcome with his grief, mother so absorbed in reflection that she is leaned his head on his patron's shoulder, and quite unconscious of his presence. looked with bursting eyes into his friend's sym

“Madam !” stammered Francis. pathizing face, in which he could read the ten- “Well, you are here, Sir, are you? after I derest pity.

had forbidden" “ Are you very sure, Francis, that Genevieve's “God alone, Madam, has a right to forbid us mother will not permit your addresses ?”

to love." Read, Sir, and judge for yourself.”

“ Leave the house immediately, you insolent Thus saying Francis drew a letter from his fellow! or take the consequences of my just inpocket, and presented it to Hoffinan; it ran dignation." thus :

“Madame Herrmann, I shall not leave the “My Beloved,—I weep as I write, for I am

house but as your accepted son-in-law! Francis more than unhappy. My mother will never receive is now rich, and can afford to raise his head as you as her son-in-law. Oh! Francis, were I alone high as your own, and aspire to be the husband in the world I could die; but we are one, and two of your daughter, without offending either your lives would be sacrificed – for to thee I would belong pride or your cupidity. I am rich !" by the holy bands of marriage, or to the grave. Since

“ And pray what riches, may I ask, have you we cannot, then, be united in life, oh! that we might to offer my daughter ?” asked Madame Herrin death ; and thus we may yet be happy, in spite of man, in a mocking, incredulous tone. earthly sorrow and disappointment. Let us, then, “The protection of the greatest man in Gerfirst fulfil our duties towards heaven, and then meet many--of Mons. Von Hoffman!" there to part no more.

The old mother could scarcely contain her " GENEVIEVE.

indignation. The hope of a fortune, which “ 'Tis the letter of a Christian, and of a Francis had thrown out, had vanished, the woman,” said Hoffman; “let me hear your re- natural selfishness of the woman broke out, and ply.”

she furiously reiterated her commands that " Here it is,” said Francis, placing a scrawl Francis should leave the house. in the hands of his friend, containing these The latter, far from obeying this injunction, words :

took a chair, and established himself upon it "BEST BELOVED, I shall wait for thee this with the air of a man determined not to be night in my attic. All shall be ready for our de- ejected. Whereupon the old lady, snatching up liverance. Adieu ! weep no more; all will soon be her hat and cloak, turned with an air of triumph

“ I am ever thine, towards Francis, and said

“ FRANCIS.” “I shall soon send you one who will force



you never to put your foot inside these doors “Good morning, Master Bromberg! thou again.”

most sapient and discriminating of publishers !" 'A feeble voice here broke in on the dialogue : said Hoffman. “I am come to talk with you it was that of Geneviève, and soon, like one of about the publication of a new work.” Hoffman's own elegant creations, she appeared, Of your own ?” said Bromberg. pale, spirit-like, adorned but with her Howing Certainly, it is my own. Here is the half of locks, and that beauty, of which not even grief the first volume: there will be four, and all shall and suffering could deprive her, she tottered for- be complete in forty days. I ask for it two ward, repeating, No, no, it is in vain, my hundred florins a volume. Is that too much, mother: I cannot, will not be the bride of Master Bromberg ? Just look at it.” Müller!” and would have fallen, had not Fran- The publisher refused to see the manuscript, cis sprung forward, and catching her to his saying, "Mr. Hoffman, I shall now pay you breast, exclaimed in triumphant accents, “Ge- eight hundred florins for your book, and shall neviève, my beloved, you are, you shall be request the favour to publish the work which shall mine! Hoffman has sworn it to me! Hoffman follow this. Bromberg cannot pay too much will protect our love !"

for the gratification of giving to the world the Hope revived within the heart of the young fruits of a genius so sublime as yours!".. girl, and its own rosy hue once more coloured “ 'Tis well,” replied Hoffman; “ you have my her pale cheeks, while she looked on the glowing word for it; you shall be my publisher ; your face of her lover, who turned to her mother, money has a happy destination." saying, “Ah, madam, could you have the heart Hoffman left the house with notes for eight to prepare a tomb for two creatures who love so hundred forins, and directed his steps towards innocently, so fondly?”

the house of the printer of Kotzebue's Journal “Müller shall decide that,” she hissed forth the same man who had warned Francis that, in reply, with smothered rage. And you,” if he married, he would dismiss him. said she, turning to her daughter, “who seem to The visit was short, but satisfactory; our auhave so much power over this young man, pray thor threatened Francis's master to take away order him hence. I am going to your future from him the printing of the journal, if he father-in-law's house; the servant Bridget can should persist in his unkind menaces towards keep you company until my return."

the young man. It was agreed, before he left, With an imploring look' Geneviève obtained that in case of his marriage the salary of Francis the departure of her lover, and Madame Herr- should, on the contrary, be raised, and that he mann set off to consult with her intended son- should have constant employment. in-law's father.

This done, Hoffman repaired to the house Four hours had elapsed since Francis had left of Madame Herrmann : it was Genevière who the chamber of Hoffinan, yet the author had received him. “My sweet girl," said Hoffnot stirred from his work, nor perceived the man, “I wish to speak with your mother." flight of time. So rapidly did his pen move, “She is from home, sir." that one who knew him might be aware it was “ I shall call again; here is my name. Adieu." benevolence inspired the labour. The neigh- When Geneviève had read the name so dear bouring clock sounding twelve arrested his at- to her, the name of her lover's protector, quick tention, and he exclaimed, “Already twelve as thought she is on her knees before him to o'clock! and my breakfast—where is it?" He whom she is to owe the happiness of her life

. cast a glance around, then his eyes

rested sor

“Oh, sir, only tell me what you promised rowfully on his work, and he cried out, “ Fool Francis ! only let me hear from your own lips that I am, to think of making others happy that I am not to be married to Müller-that you when I have not the means to provide myself will unite me to my beloved Francis! I conjure with a breakfast! Fool! to promise a fortune you have pity on me!" to an artisan, without having a kreutzer for “Müller, do you say?” cried HoffmanHoffinan! Fool! I say again. Take Jaeger- “Müller Heigsten your husband, Genevière? read a chapter of Grundman, and then you shall nay, that can never be !" not require any breakfast ; for is it not said, At this instant Madame Herrmann entered, that science is the meat and drink of the phi- accompanied by her intended son-in-law. losopher?' Well-I certainly am very silly to “You here! infamous wretch !” cried Hoffforget-have I not two coats ?-certainly one too man, in a voice of thunder, addressing himself many. Let us see; the Jew Gutbert will rea- to Müller. “You have then forgotten your dily give me ten florins for one; I am rich, then oath ?” - forward to breakfast, and then for the affairs Müller fell on his knees at these dreadful of Francis and Geneviève.

words, and seemed crushed to the earth by some And here we have the great literary artist, mysterious power, as he gazed, affrighted, taking his coat under his arm to sell it for ten the unexpected appearance of Hoffman. shillings; while enveloped carefully in a hand- “ Fly, deluded wretch !" cried Hoffman to kerchief under the other arm, were the fruits of him; or in an hour the officers of justice shall his morning's labour. Having breakfasted, he have possession of your person.” Müller sprang went to Bromberg, the famous publisher-a up at these words, and was never again seen in great admirer of Hoffman, and one of his school those parts. Hoffman, turning to Madame -who received him with much respect. Herrmann, asked her with some asperity if she

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