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as she bade me, and followed her in you came here of your own free will silence, while she went cautiously up - I did not ask you to follow meto the window, and having examined and you shall do it!" what was passing within with all the I knew not what to say or do, and deliberate cunning of a maniac, then for a moment thought of flinging mygently lifted the latch of the door, self upon her to force away the knife, which opened into a narrow brická when I heard a scuffle below. A passage to the left of the kitchen. At few blows were exchanged, a single the end of it was a short flight of pistol-shot discharged, and immestairs, and these led us into the room diately after was the tramp of feet where I had before observed the upon the stairs. Nancy uttered a lamp was burning ; in the middle of loud shriekthe chamber was a plain deal coffin “ They are here!” on tressels, in which lay the corpse Scarcely were the words uttered of poor Harry, all but the face corer- than she rushed up to the coffin, and ed over with a dirty table-cloth. I ere I could prevent her, plunged the now saw plainly that the peasants knife twice or thrice into the dead had held their watch below from body. In the same instant the pure fear of being in the same room was filled with smugglers, with the dead, and a state of partial headed by young Woodriff, who was intoxication might account for their astonished, as well he might be, at the having left the door open,-but to extraordinary scene before him. what purpose was this visit of Mr. Seymour !-Nance too!Nancy's? She did not long leave me Poor girl!--But we have no time for in doubt.

talking, so all hands to work and “ Now, Mr. Seymour ; you call help bear off the old man to the boat yourself my father's friend ; you have we'll soon have him in fifty fathoms eaten of his bread ;-will you see him water out of the reach of these bad hung like a thief on a gibbet? harpies."

The strangeness of this appeal My father ! You shall not take startled me so that I knew not well my father from me!"-shrieked the what to answer. She repeated the poor maniac. question while her eyes flashed fire: “Be quiet, Nance !--Gently, lads,

“ Will you see him hung ?-hung? down the stair-case-look to our -hung?-You understand that word, Nance, Mr. Seymour-gently, ladsI suppose."

I'd sooner knock twenty living men “ My dear Nancy,"

on the head than hear one blow given “ By God's light, coward, I have to a dead one." a mind to put this knife into you. So saying, and having again briefly Don't you see he is their prisoner- entreated my care of his sister, he in chains?-And to-morrow he will be followed the corpse out, while the tried and hung-Yes, my poor father unfortunate maniac, quite contrary to will be hung."

my expectations, made no farther And in her changing mo she opposition. She leant for a time wept and sobbed like an infant; this against the window without speaking however did not last long

a word, and, when I tried to per“ But they shall not-no—they suade her to return, very calmly reshall not. Here, take this knife — plied," with all my heart. plunge it into him, that they may not what purpose should I stay here have him alive-'tis a hard task for a since they have taken my father from daughter, and since you are here, me? They'll hang him now, and I take it and stab him as he sleeps cannot help it.” mind you do not wake him though- My poor girl, your father is stab home-no half-work-home to dead.” the heart-you know where it is— Nancy smiled contemptuously, and, Here-here."

passing her hand across her brow as She placed my hand upon her if exhausted, said, “I am ready to , heart as if to show me where to strike faint; will you be kind enough to I drew back shuddering.

fetch me a glass of water." Coward!—But you shall do it , She did, indeed, seem ready to it is a task of your own seeking-drop, and I went down into the

To

kitchen to fetch the water. Seven and held only by a thin cable. How or eight smugglers were there keep- she contrived to throw off the rope I ing watch over the peasants, and the know not, but she did contrive itsentinel, mistaking me for an enemy, perhaps she had the knife with her, levelled his pistol at my head; but and cut it. Be this as it may, she was the priming flashed in the pan, and, pushing off amidst the breakers that before he could repeat the attack, an burst about her most tremendously, old man, who had often seen me with and kept up a most violent surf for at Frank, stepped between us just in least half a mile from the shore. good time to save me by his expla- Was not this under the idea of resnation.

cuing her father? Upon telling him my purpose he In an instant I gave the alarm, and directed me to the well in the yard, the smugglers, leaving the peasants at the same time putting a lantern to do their worst, hurried off with me into my hand with a caution to to the beach. Nancy was now about “ look to the rotting tackling."-A a hundred yards from the shore in the caution that was not given without midst of a furious surge, for though good reason, for the wood-work round it was too dark to see her, the glimthe well was so decayed that it would mer of the lamp was visible every scarcely bear the action of the cylin- now and then as the boat rose upon der.

the waters. In a few minutes I had drawn up “ By G-d! it's of no use,” said the bucket, and hastened back to the old smuggler,-“ No skiff can get Nancy with a jug full of the water. through them breakers.” To my great surprise she was gone, « Well, but she has." and I now saw- too late indeed, - “Not yet, master-see-the light's that her request for water was mere- gone-it's all up with her now." ly a trick to get rid of me, that she The light had indeed gone, and might the better escape, though, not as before to rise again with the what her farther object in it might be, rise of the waters. Minute after miI could not possibly divine. It was nute elapsed, and still all was dark upnot long, however, before I learnt on the waves,--and the next morning this too; for on looking out of the the corse of Nancy Woodriff was window, I saw her, with the lamp found on the sands, about half a still in her hand, pushing out to sea mile from the place where she had in a small skiff, that was half afloat, first pushed off amid the breakers.

G. S,

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THE SICK MAN'S SUMMER EVENING.

OH, life is all so sweet! so sweet!
To feel the living pulses beat!
To drink the air that round us flows !

To gaze upon the sky's deep ocean !
To see the life that round us glows,

And feel that life in us has motion !
All this has been all this must be ;-
But oh! it will no more for me.
The Spring, with Pleasure by her side,
That pipes the measure of his bride!
The Summer, faint with hot desire !

The Autumn drunk, his rich ales flowing !
The gossip Winter's blazing fire,

With tales of eld, while winds are blowing !
All this has been all this must be ;-
But oh! it will no more for me,

MARSHAL SOULT, AND HIS MURILLOS.
An older and a better soldier none.

....... Your gallery
I have passed through, not without much content.

Shakspeare. Be not alarmed, Mr. Editor ;-I cline and fall as well as empires; and am no artist, no professional critic, painting, from this epoch, begins to no established connoisseur; not even feel the touches of corruption, until an amateur of paintings, except in the conquest of technical difficulties its primitive sense of an admirer or is deemed the paramount excellence ; lover of that art, whose legitimate subjects are selected, not because object is to convey a faithful imita- they are pleasing, but because they tion of pleasing nature. I know afford an opportunity for display of little of the masters ; care nothing talent; and it becomes the grand for the schools; and disdain to learn object of an artist to exhibit himself by rote the technical babble about rather than nature. Hence mangusto, chiaro-oscuro, handling, tints nerism, and hence the propriety of and half tints, orpiments, pigments, terming the present era the age of lucid and opaque, carnations, Spanish artists rather than the age of the brown, Venetian red, and Naples arts. Literature follows the same yellow: but having a practised eye course : in Lord Byron, for instance, and a fervent feeling for the great is not nature every where suboriginal, as executed by the hand of ordinate to self-display? he is his the Creator, I consider myself com- own muse, and drawing upon himpetent, without other apprenticeship, self for inspiration, needs no other to form an opinion of any copy mo- Pegasus than his favourite hobbydified by the pencil of man. I need horse-Egotism. Our musical comnot put my eye to school to enable it posers are too busy in exhibiting to judge of resemblances ; nor make their science to think of pleasing our my heart member of an academy, ears : Braham forgets the composer, that it may learn responses to the that the singer may manifest his exwhisperings of external beauty. Per- ecution; and even our daughters haps the critics think otherwise, but when they come from boardingthey may be very positive and yet school, disdain to recreate us with very wrong. In the infancy of paint- any simple or pathetic melodies, that ing, the artists contented themselves they may dazzle and astonish us with a simple imitation of nature, with the velocity of their fingers in and he was the best perforiner who rattling through a difficult piece. could produce the cleverest deception. But what has all this to do with It was reckoned a great triumph Soult and his Murillos ? — nothingwhen Bucephalus neighed at Alex- save that it occurred to me as I was ander's portrait; Zeuxis snapped his crossing the Pont Royal on my way fingers at Parrhasius when the birds to his hotel, and so completely encame to peck at his painted grapes, grossed my attention, that I was but confessed himself outdone, when, nearly run over by a cabriolet.on offering to remove a curtain that Having finished my exordium, and apparently covered a portion of his escaped the wheels, I proceeded to rival's canvas, he discovered it to be the Fauxbourg St. Germain, and the production of his brush. In the turned into the court-yard of Marshal progress of professional ambition, Soult, Duke of Dalmatia, in a corner such easy victories are disdained; of which were four stablemen, too difficulties are overcome which were busy in tossing up halfpence to bebefore considered insuperable ; fore- stow even a look upon the visitors. shortening, perspective, composition, Probably, his Grace has often inlight and shade, are scientifically dulged in a similar recreation, but combined ; and while nature assumes having tossed up his halfpence to no position in which she cannot be better account, he has found his way faithfully reflected, her imitators se- into the saloon, and left his compelect none in which she cannot be titors in the stable-yard. A groom pleasingly as well as accurately re- of the chambers having conducted presented. The arts have their des us through that indispensable ape

pendage to every French mansion, a pidated mouth and plain features, as spacious billiard-room, led us to a it catches with keen enjoyment the small ante-chamber, where we were beauties of art, and points them out received with a plain frank courtesy to others with not less eagerness by the Marshal,-a middle-sized, than it discovers them. That is though somewhat corpulent person- Denon, the Egyptian traveller, now age of from fifty to sixty years of in his eighty-fifth year, whose whole age, whose dark curling hair rendered exterior indicates the savant so much somewhat conspicuous the bald patch more than the soldier, that one is in the middle of his head, while his astonished how he could so far have sun-burnt complexion accorded well combined the two, as to gallop with his dark intelligent eye.

His round the ruins of the great temple black stock, plain dark coat, and at Luxor in an hour. loose blue trowsers, which, capacious Accompanied by these personages, as they were, could not hide his and others of less celebrity, we bow-legged form, obviously suggest- walked through the sumptuous aed the soldier rather than the cour-partments, all decorated in the most tier, the Marshal rather than the costly and elegant manner, although Duke; though if I had encountered the gold leaf, as usual in this country, such a figure in London, I should had been spread over the cornices, rather have guessed him to be an and doors, and ceilings, with somehonest East or West India captain. what of gilt-gingerbread prodigality. A Frenchman entitled by birth to In the last room but one we ensimilar rank and fortune would have countered the state bed, of blue embeen forward, and vain, and loqua- broidered satin, with rich gold fringe cious, amid his unmerited distinc- and decorations, the bedstead emtions,—but methought upon Soult’s blazoned with gorgeous military trocountenance there sat an air of re- phies and devices; the dogs of the serve, and even awkwardness, in fire-places formed so as to represent doing the honours of his proud man- handsome brass mortars; the walls sion, as if he felt conscious that he painted with martial symbols, and eveassimilated not well with its magni- ry thing in the same warlike consistficence: I could fancy him saying to ency, except a white marble console, himself-Here I stand, a plain sol- on which stood a bust of Louis the dier of fortune, consenting to use eighteenth! This incongruity seemed splendidly the wealth which I have to impart its puzzling contradiction acquired, and the greatness which to my own thoughts. Unable to achas been thrust upon me, but disc count for the presence of this royal daining to adopt in my own person personage either in the copy or the any of the fopperies of state. original, I threw back my mind a

Beside him, in a round, light- few years, and found it still more incoloured frock-coat descending nearly credible that I myself should be to his feet, stood a tallish thin figure, where I then was, courteously rewhose matted powdered hair, falling ceived by personages who were fiover his forehead and ears like the guring in our papers as implacable sedge of a river-god, seemed to and eternal enemies,--and gazing render still paler his coarse and upon altar-pieces which were then somewhat pock-marked countenance, hallowed by the “dim religious light” which bore an expression of habi- of Spanish cathedrals, or only untual cunning. This was the cele- curtained that they might receive the brated Talleyrand. Distrust and adoration of kneeling nuns, while sasubtlety appeared lurking in his cred music and symphonious hymns peeping eyes, deep set beneath a con- floated around them. The past and tracted brow; and though he looked the present refused to amalgamate in sometimes at the pictures, sometimes my reveries--all seemed a waking at the visitors, his thoughts were not dream—a solecism of fact-a pracwith his looks; his brain was attical impossibility — an anomalous work, but upon other machinations jumble both of time and place. than the criticising of Murillos. How Roused from this abstraction by different the animated physiognomy the admiration expressed at Murillo's of that vivacious little baldheaded large painting of the Nativity, 1 proman, whose sparkling black eye de. ceeded to examine it. Having scarce. coys your attention from his dilac ly any thing in England but the Cote

a

tage Girls, Gipsy Boys, and other of his master Juan del Castillio were juvenile polissons of this artist, one too ignoble for his ambition; he was is prepossessed with the idea that he too poor to go to Italy; and though could not elevate himself to the he had access at Madrid to some of poetry of painting and the sublime the works of Rubens and Vandyck, of Scriptural illustration ; but if this he was content with neither a pulpy single picture be not sufficient to re- Venus, nor a full-ruffed portrait, move so erroneous an impression, let but betook himself to the study of the spectator contemplate the Return the great goddess. Exhibiting none of the Prodigal Son, by its side; and of that mannerism, self-display, and their combined effect will banish all pedantry to which I alluded in the his scepticism. In that of Our Sa- outset, he blends every thing harvour at the Pool of Bethesda, the moniously and naturally; and rehead of Christ is conceived to have membering that the object of his art realised that almost unattainable is to please, he lends himself to the perfection-a happy union of the di- expression of amiable and tender vine and human expression; while sentiments with a felicity in which the Angel appearing to St. Peter in no artist has exceeded him. Let any his Prison does not lose the celestial unprejudiced person proceed from the beauty in the look of sympathising annual exposition of the gaudy and earnestness with which he is address theatrical French school at the ing the saint. Almost all the paint Louvre to Marshal Soult's gallery of ings are of large dimensions, and in Murillos, and he will at once recoge excellent preservation; and not one nise the superiority of native uutucan be scrutinised without a con- tored genius over the imitative peviction that Murillo's great teacher dantic efforts of institutions, schools, was Nature. The Fairs and Markets and academies.

H.

SONNETS.

TO THE SKY-LARK.

B.

O EARLIEST singer! O care-charming bird !

Married to morning by a sweeter hymn

Than priest e'er chaunted from his cloister dim
At midnight; or veil'd virgin's holier word,
At sun-rise, or the paler evening heard ;

To which of all heaven's young and lovely Hours,

That wreathe soft light in hyacinthine bowers,
Beautiful spirit, is thy suit preferr’d?--

Unlike the creatures of this low dull earth,

Still dost thou woo although thy suit be won;
And thus thy mistress bright is pleased ever.

Oh! lose not thou this mark of finer birth ;
So may'st thou yet live on from sun to sun,
Thy joy uncheck’d, thy sweet song silent never.

A STILL PLACE.
Under what beechen shade, or silent oak,

Lies the mute Sylvan now,-mysterious Pan?
-Once (while rich Peneus and Ilissus ran
Clear from their fountains)-as the morning broke,
'Tis said, the satyr with Apollo spoke,

And to harinonious strife, with his wild reed,
Challenged the god, whose music was indeed
Divine, and fit for heaven.--Each play'd, and woke

Beautiful sounds to life, deep melodies:
One blew his pastoral pipe with such nice care

That flocks and birds all answer'd him; and one
Shook his immortal showers upon the air.

That music hath ascended to the sun ;-
But where the other ? Speak! ye dells and trees!

B.

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