dom to our minds, who are themselves the slaves of passion, avarice, and pride. They offer us their protection-yes, such protection as vultures give to lambs-covering and devouring them! They call on us to barter all of good we have inherited and proved, for the desperate chance of something better which they promise. Be our own plain answer this:-The throne we honor is the people's choice-the laws we reverence are our brave fathers' legacy—the faith we follow teaches us to live in bonds of charity with all mankind, and die with hope of bliss beyond the grave. Tell your invaders this, and tell them too, we seek no change; and, least of all, such change as they would bring us. [Loud shouts of the soldiery. Ata. [Embracing ROLLA.] Now, holy friends, ever mindful of these sacred truths, begin the sacrifice.

CHORUS.-Priests and Virgins.

Oh Power supreme! in mercy smile
With favor on thy servants' toil!
Our hearts from guileful passions free,
Which here we render unto thee!
Thou Parent Light! but deign to hear

The voices of our feeble choir;

And this our sacrifice of fear,

Consume with thine own hallowed fre!

[Fire from above lights upon the Altar.

Give praise, give praise, the God has heard,
Our God most awfully revered!

The altar his own flames enwreathed,

Then be the conquering sword unsheathed,

And victory set on Rolla's brow,

His foes to crush-to overthrow!

Ata. Our offering is accepted. Now to arms, my friends, prepare

Ora. From the Hill's brow, even now as I overlooked their force, suddenly I perceived the whole in motion: with eager haste they march towards our deserted camp, as if apprised of this most solemn sacrifice. Rol. They must be met before they reach it.

Ata. And you, my daughters, with your dear children, away to the appointed place of safety.

Cora. Oh, Alonzo!

Alonzo. We shall meet again.

[Embracing him.

Cora. Bless us once more, ere thou leave us.

Al. Heaven protect and bless thee, my beloved, and thee, my innocent!

Ata. Haste! haste!-each moment is precious!

Cora. Farewell, Alonzo!

Remember thy life is mine.

Rol. Not one farewell to Rolla?

Cora. [Giving him her hand.] Farewell! the God of war be with thee: but bring me back Alonzo. [Exit with the child.

Ata. [Draws his sword.] Now, my brethren, my sons, my friends, I know your valor. Should ill success assail us, be despair the last feeling of your hearts. If successful, let mercy be the first. Alonzo, to thee I give to defend the narrow passage of the mountains. On the right of the wood be Rolla's station. For me, straight forwards will I march to meet them, and fight until I see my people saved, or they behold their monarch fall. Be the word of battle-" God! and our native land!"

From "The German of Kotzebue,"

THE COUNTRY SQUIRE.
SQUIRE, GEORGE, HORACE.

George. Here we are, sir!

CHARLES DANCE.

Squire. Good! Resume your seats. [They sit, the SQUIRE in the middle.] I am rich-I am seventy, and I have no heir. You two boys being the children of one sister, and your cousin, Sophy Herbert, the child of another sister, both of whom have preceded me to— in short, you are my nearest living relations. Sophy is a dear good girl. She has been, as you know, under my roof these two years. [GEORGE sighs.] There is nothing to sigh about, my friend; she is very comfortable; at least, if not, it must be her own fault, for she does just as she likes.

Horace. Upon my life, sir, yours must be a very pleasant house to stay in..

Squire. Sir, you do me infinite honor; but I haven't time to luxuriate in your praises just now. Miss Fanny Markham, and your cousin Sophy, will be here shortly; if, therefore, you can make it convenient to let me proceed without interruption, I shall take it as a personal favor. [They bow assent.] Consider your cousin Sophy provided for. I now come to yourselves. 1 shall deal frankly with you. I have plenty of money to leave you both; but I have sent for you here, because I want to fix upon one of you to take my name when I die, and to do me the honor to inherit the bulk of my estates. one another in astonishment.] Don't stare, but listen.

[They look at

You are both

good, I dare say, in your ways; but I want to discover which of you is the best man for my purpose. I have now told you my object, openly and honestly, as a gentleman ought. If you are gentlemen,-and mind, I use the term in its broadest sense,-you will answer my questions as openly, and as honestly. I have scorned to deceive you; and, if either of you condescend to try to deceive me, depend upon it,— [observing a movement on their parts, he continues,]-don't be in a hurry; I was only going to say, depend upon it, I shall find you out. [All rise.]

Horace. Sir, we pledge our honors.

Squire. I require no ledge, my friends, no pledge. Besides, the honor of a gentleman is a treasure too precious to be lightly parted with; it should be retained within the workshop of his mind to gild and beautify each action of his life, ere it passes into public observation. George!

George. Sir?

Squire. You are the eldest, I believe?

George. By five years, sir.

Squire. You are a merchant of the city of London?

George. I am, sir.

Squire. And you take pride in being so?

George. I do.

Squire. So you ought. But the time approaches when you may, perhaps, be called upon to exchange that appellation for another, equally honorable-that of an English country gentleman. In the hurry of business, I have somehow forgotten to get married, until it's too late.

Horace. Too late, sir! Why, you seem as hearty as a man of fifty! Squire. Don't interrupt me; and, above all, don't talk nonsense; it is too late, I say; I can't help being an old man; but I can help being an old fool! I am the last of my name in the county. [Sits.] I would do anything, in reason, to oblige my friends and neighbors; but I can't live much longer, even to accommodate them. Now, I don't relish the notion of removing from the family mansion to the family vault, without leaving behind me some future Squire upon whom I may depend to carry on the war as I have done. Yes, boys, I say, as I have done; for when I reflect upon my past life [becomes affected], I feel that I may assert, without fear of contradiction, that I have done some little good in my time. [Rousing himself.] Psha! This is folly! At my time of life, one needn't lie, even about one's self! [Earnestly]. I have done a great deal of good, and I know it!

George. Everybody about you seems to know it equally well, sir. Squire. My dear boy, I want no flattery; I was talking about a fact, and I only mentioned that because it came in as a matter of business.

Now answer you first. Should you like to succeed to this place when I die?

George. I trust that such an event is yet far off, sir.

Squire. Poh! Poh! Nonsense! I shall die none the sooner for your talking about it. Answer my question.

George. If I could fill it as you do, sir—yes.

Squire. Very well. Now, what is to hinder you from doing so?

George. My education and habits.

Squire. Why, you have had the education of a gentleman.

George. True, sir.

Squire. Used to habits of business, you must have a good head. George. For the duties of a merchant I hope I have.

Squire. And a good heart?

George. Nay, sir!

Horace. [ [Unaffectedly.] Let me answer for him there. A betterhearted fellow than George Selwood does not exist!

Squire. [Rising; sharply to HORACE.] I told you not to interrupt. me! [Then shaking his hand.] But I can forgive that!-[ To GEORGE.] And so, sir, you seem to think, upon the whole, that my place wouldn't suit you, as the servants say?

George. My dear sir-I know little about horses; nothing about dogs or guns; I neither ride, drive, shoot, nor hunt; and, therefore, upon the whole, honestly I doubt it.

Squire. Then, honestly, I say, you shall have a fair chance of changing your opinion. [Takes his hand.] George, your candor does you honor. I have rather slender hopes of our friend here; but I must try him, now. [All rise; turning to HORACE, who is playing with his mustaches.] Mr. Horace Amelius Selwood!

Horace. Sir.

Squire. If you think there would be no danger of your head falling off your shoulders, perhaps you will let go of those things, and attend

to me.

Horace. [Putting down his hands.] With pleasure!

Squire. [Imitating him.] With play-jaar! What a queer word you make of it!-[To GEORGE.] What does he talk so for?

George. It's the fashion, sir.

Squire. Fashion, again! I observe that everything that is particularly ridiculous is the fashion.-[To HORACE.] Well, sir, you perceive the difficulty in which I am placed; can you do anything to relieve me?

Horace. Hang me if I know!

Squire. I tell you what, young gentlemen, you really are two of the queerest fellows I ever met with! It is not often, I suspect, that station and fortune go begging in this manner.

Horace. Don't mistake me, sir; I have no objection to the money. Squire. Haven't you, really?

Horace. O, no; none in life! In point of fact, I rather like it; and I'll tell you why. I have rather "outrun the constable" lately. Squire. [Astonished.] You have done what, sir?

Horace. Outrun the constable.

Squire. [To GEORGE.] What on earth has this boy had a constable

after him for?

George. [Smiling.] O, sir, don't be alarmed! Outrunning the constable is only a fashionable phrase for spending more than one's

income.

Squire. And the offence, I fear, is as fashionable as the phrase.— [To HORACE.] Then, pray, sir, why don't you jump at such a chance as this?

Horace. Because I haven't the least idea how to be a Squire.

Squire. Come, that's honest, at all events! Are you willing to learn?

Horace. Is it much trouble?

Squire. Less than to be a noodle!--at least I should think so.

Horace. Then I'll try.

Squire. So you shall. Give me your hand! And give me yours, George. Now mind! this brother of yours engages to become my pupil; if I succeed in humanizing him, he will be my heir; if not, you must! No answer; for, by Jupiter, one of you shall!

George. Horace will be the man, sir, no doubt. He is younger than I am, and his habits are less settled.

Squire. Much less, seemingly !-[Aside.] How shall I begin with him?-[TO HORACE.] Can you ride?

Horace. I flatter myself that's about the best thing I do!

Squire. Then you really are not afraid of a horse?

Horace. I'm afraid of nothing!

Squire. [Aside.] How one may be deceived by appearances!— [Aloud.] Can you drive?

Horace. Gig, curricle, tandem, unicorn, or four. I have driven the coach from London to Brighton about two hundred times.

Squire. I'm glad you can drive; but I beg to inform you that who ever becomes my heir will be able to make a decent livelihood without turning stage coachman!

George. It isn't for that, sir-it's the fashion.

Squire. [To GEORGE.] O!-[To HORACE.] Pray, sir, is it the fashion for gentlemen to turn servants of all denominations? Because, although our roads here are well supplied with coachmen at present, I have a vacancy for a footman, if that would suit you!

Horace. That would be degrading.