teeth will strike, and the deadly venom which they secrete will mingle with the life-blood in her veins. 10. The terrified damsel, her full consciousness restored, but not her strength, feels all the danger. She sees that the sport of the terrible reptile is at an end. She can not now mistake the horrid expression of its eye. She strives to scream, but the voice dies away, a feeble gurgling in her throat. Her tongue is paralyzed; her lips are sealed. Once more she strives for flight, but her limbs refuse their office. She has nothing left of life but its fearful consciousness. It is in her despair, that, a last effort, she succeeds to scream,- -a single wild cry, forced from her by the accumulated agony: she sinks down upon the grass before her enemy, her eyes, however, still open, and still looking upon those which he directs forever upon them. She sees him approach--now advancing, now receding-now swelling in every part with something of anger, while his neck is arched beautifully, like that of a wild horse under the curb; until, at length, tired as it were of play, like the cat with its victim, she sees the neck growing larger and becoming completely bronzed, as about to strike, the huge jaws unclosing almost directly above her, the long tubulated fang, charged with venom, protruding from the cavernous mouth; and she sees no more. Insensibility came to her aid, and she lay almost lifeless under the very folds of the monster. 11. In that moment the copse parted; and an arrow, piercing the monster through and through the neck, bore his head forward to the ground, alongside the maiden, while his spiral extremities, now unfolding in his own agony, were actually, in part, writhing upon her person. The arrow came from the fugitive Occonestoga, who had fortunately reached the spot in sea son, on the way to the Block-House. He rushed from the copse as the snake fell, and, with a stick, fearlessly approached hims where he lay tossing in agony upon the grass. Seeing him advance, the courageous reptile made an effort to regain his coil. shaking the fearful rattle violently at every evolution which he took for that purpose; but the arrow, completely passing through his neck, opposed an unyielding obstacle to the endeavor; and finding it hopeless, and seeing the new enemy about to assault bim, with something of the spirit of the white man under like circumstances, he turned desperately round, and striking his charged fangs, so that they were riveted in the wound they made, into a susceptible part of his own body, he threw himself over with a single convulsion, and, a moment after, lay dead beside the utterly unconscious maiden. W. G. SIMMS. 66 WILLIAM GILMORE SIMMS was born at Charleston, South Carolina, April 17, 1806. His mother died while he was an infant, and his father, failing soon after as a merchant, emigrated to the West, leaving him to the care of an aged and penurious grandmother, who withheld the appropriations necessary for his education. His love of books, industry, and richly endowed intellect, however, triumphed over every obstacle. He wrote for the press, at an early age, on a great variety of subjects, and was admitted to the bar, in his native city, at the age of twenty-one. He did not long practice law, but turned its peculiar training to the uses of literature. He became editor and proprietor of the "Charleston City Gazette," which, though conducted with industry and spirit, proved a failure, owing to his opposition to the then popular doctrine of nullification. He published his first book, "Lyrical and other Poems," in 1825, when about eighteen years of age, followed the same year by "Early Lays." Atalantis," the third work following, a successful poem with the publishers, a rarity at the time, was published in New York, in 1832. It is written in smooth blank verse, interspersed with frequent lyrics. The next year appeared in New York his first tale, "Martin Faber," written in the intense passionate style, which se¬ cured at once public attention. Since that period he has written numerous novels, histories, biographies, and poems, and has contributed largely to reviews and magazines. In 1849 he became editor of "The Southern Quarterly Review," which was revived by his able contributions and personal influence. Hia writings are characterized by their earnestness, sincerity, and thoroughness. His shorter stories are his best works. Though somewhat wanting in elegance, they have unity, completeness, and strength. Mr. SIMMS has his summer residence at Charleston, and a plantation at Midway, where he passes his winters. He received the degree of Doctor of Laws from the University of Alabama. He has been for several years a prominent member of the legislature of his native State. 105. ROGER ASCHAM AND LADY JANE GREY.2 Ascham. Thou art going, my dear young lady, into a most awful state; thou art passing into matrimony and great wealth. 1ROGER ASCHAM, a man of great learning, the instructor of Queen Elizabeth, was born in 1515, and died in 1568.- LADY JANe Grey, daughter of the Marquis of Dorset, descended from the royal family of England by both parents, was born in 1537. The Duke of Northumberland having prevailed on Edward VI. to name her his successor, married his son, LORD GUILFORD DUDLEY, to her; and, the nation having declared in favor of MARY, they were both executed, after a phantom royalty of nine days, on the 12th of February, 1554. LADY JANE was only in her seventeenth year, and was remarkable for her skill in the God hath willed it: submit in thankfulness. Thy affections are rightly placed and well distributed. Love is a secondary passion in those who love most, a primary in those who love least. He who is inspired by it in a high degree, is inspired by honor in a higher it never reaches its plenitude of growth and perfection but in the most exalted minds. Alas! alas! Jane. What aileth my virtuous Ascham? what is amiss? why do I tremble? Ascham. I remember a sort of prophecy, made three years ago: it is a prophecy of thy condition and of my feelings on it. Recollectest thou who wrote, sitting upon the sea-beach the evening after an excursion to the Isle of Wight, these verses?--"Invisibly bright water! so like air, On looking down I fear'd thou couldst not bear Jane. I was very childish when I composed them; and, if I had thought any more about the matter, I should have hoped you had been too generous to keep them in your memory as witnesses against me. Ascham. Nay, they are not much amiss for so young a girl, and there being so few of them, I did not reprove thee. Half an hour, I thought, might have been spent more unprofitably; and I now shall believe it firmly, if thou wilt but be led by them to meditate a little on the similarity of situation in which thou then wert to what thou art now in. Jane. I will do it, and whatever else you command; for I am weak by nature and věry timorous, unless where a strong sense of duty holdeth and supporteth me. There God acteth, and not his creature. Those were with me at sea who would have been attentive to me if I had seemed to be afraid, even though worshipful men and women were in the company; so that something more powerful threw my fear overboard. Yet I never will go again upon the water. classical, Oriental, and modern languages, and for the sweetness of her disposition. Ascham. Exercise that beauteous couple, that mind and body much and variously, but at home, at home, Jane! indoors, and about things indoors; for God is there, too. We have rocks and quicksands on the banks of our Thames,' O lady! such as Ocean never heard of; and many (who knows how soon!) may be ingulfed in the current under their garden walls. Jane. Thoroughly do I now understand you. Yes, indeed, I have read evil things of courts; but I think nobody can go out bad who entereth good, if timely and true warning shall have been given. Ascham. I see perils on perils which thou dost not see, albeit thou art wiser than thy poor old master. And it is not because Love hath blinded thee, for that surpasseth his supposed Granipotence; but it is because thy tender heart, having always leant affectionately upon good, hath felt and known nothing of evil. I once persuaded thee to reflect much; let me now persuade thee to avoid the habitude of reflection, to lay aside books, and to gaze carefully and steadfastly on what is under and before thee. Jane. I have well bethought me of my duties: oh, how extensive they are! what a goodly and fair inheritance! But tell me, would you command me never more to read Cicero,2 and Epictetus, and Plutarch, and Polybius ?5 The others I do resign; they are good for the arbor and for the gravel-walk; yet leave unto me, I beseech you, my friend and father, leave unto me for my fireside and for my pillow, truth, eloquence, courage, constancy. 'Thames (têmz), the principal, though not the longest river of England.-- CICERO, see p. 143, note 4.-3 EPICTE' TUS, a stoic philosopher, . the moralist of Rome, lived about 90 years after Christ. His moral writings are justly very celebrated.- PLUTARCHI, an eminent ancient philosopher and writer, author of "Parallel Lives," which contains the biography of forty-six distinguished Greeks and Romans, was born in Charonea, a city of Boeotia, about 50 years after Christ. His writings, comprehended under the title of "Moralia" or Ethical Works," amount to upward of sixty. They are pervaded by a kind, humane disposition, and a love of every thing that is ennobling and excellent — POLYB' IUS, a celebrated Greek historian and statesman, was born in Arcadia, B. c. 203. He wrote a "Universal History" in forty books, of which we have only five complete, and an abridgment of twelve other Ascham. Read them on thy marriage-bed, on thy child-bed, on thy death-bed. Thou spotless, undrooping lily, they have fenced thee right well. These are the men for men; these are to fashion the bright and blessed creatures whom God one day shall smile upon in thy chaste bosom. Mind thou thy has band. Jane. I sincerely love the youth who hath espoused me; I love him with the fondest, the most solicitous affection; I pray to the Almighty for his goodness and happiness, and do forget, at times-unworthy supplicant!-the prayers I should have offered for myself. Never fear that I will disparage my kind religious teacher, by disobedience to my husband in the most trying duties. Ascham. Gentle is he, gentle and virtuous; but time will harden him: time must harden even thee, sweet Jane! Do thou, complacently and indirectly, lead him from ambition. Jane. He is contented with me and with home. Ascham. Ah, Jane! Jane! men of high estate grow tired of contentedness. Jane. He told me he never liked books unless I read them tc him: I will read them to him every morning; I will open new worlds to him richer than those discovered by the Spaniard; I will conduct him to treasures-oh what treasures!-on which he may sleep in innocence and peace. Ascham. Rather do thou walk with him, ride with him, play with him-be his faery, his page, his every thing that love and poëtry have invented, but watch him well; sport with his fancies; turn them about like the ringlets round his cheek; and if ever he meditate on power, go toss up thy baby to his brow, and bring back his thoughts into his heart by the music of thy discourse. Teach him to live unto God and unto thee; and he will discover that women, like the plants in woods, derive their softness and tenderness from the shade. LANDOR. WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR was born in Warwick, England, on the 30th of January, 1775, and was educated at Rugby and Oxford. He first resided at Swansea, in Wales, dependent on his father for a small income, where he commenced his "Imaginary Conversations," a work which alone establishes his fame. His first publication was a small volume of poems, dated 1793. On succeeding to the family estate he became entirely independent, and was enabled to indulge to the fullest his propensity to literature. He left England in 1806, married in 1814, and went to Italy the following year, where he chiefly resided till his re |