Yet shunn'd and dreaded with such care, That prudence might escape: At times both wish'd for and implored, And welcome in no shape. And, strange to say, the sons of pleasure, For he who hath in turn run through All that was beautiful and new, Hath nought to hope, and nought to leave; And, save the future (which is view'd Not quite as men are base or good, With nought perhaps to grieve: The wretch still hopes his woes must end, The sun was sinking-still I lay Chain'd to the chill and stiffening steed; I cast my last looks up the sky, And there between me and the sun I saw the expecting raven fly, Who scarce would wait till both should die, He flew, and perched, then flew once more, I could have smote, but lack'd the strength; Together scared him off at length. Which fix'd my dull eyes from afar, And went and came with wandering beam, And of the cold, dull, swimming, dense And then subsiding back to death, An icy sickness curdling o'er My heart, and sparks that cross'd my brain- I woke where was I? Do I see A slender girl, long-hair'd, and tall, A prying, pitying glance on me No vision it could be,— But that I lived, and was released And gently oped the door, and spake But those she call'd were not awake, And she went forth; but, ere she pass'd, Another look on me she cast, Another sign she made, to say, That I had nought to fear, that all Were near, at my command or call, And she would not delay Her due return:-while she was gone, She came with mother and with sire- [Sir WALTER RALEIGH addressed this letter to Prince Henry, the son of James I.] MAY it please Your Highness,―The following lines are addressed to your Highness from a man who values his liberty, and a very small fortune in a remote part of this island, under the present constitution, above all the riches and honours that he could anywhere enjoy under any other establishment. You see, sir, the doctrines .that are lately come into the world, and how far the phrase has obtained of calling your royal father, God's vicegerent; which ill men have turned both to the dishonour of God, and the impeachment of his Majesty's goodness. They adjoin vicegerency to the idea of being all-powerful, and not to that of being all-good. His Majesty's wisdom, it is to be hoped, will save him from the snare that may lie under gross adulations; but your youth, and the thirst of praise which I have observed in you, may possibly mislead you to hearken to these charmers, who would conduct your noble nature into tyranny. Be careful, oh, my prince! Hear them not, fly from their deceits; you are in the succession to a throne, from whence no evil can be imputed to yon, but all good must be conveyed from you. Your father is called the vicegerent of heaven; while he is good he is the vicegerent of heaven. Shall man have authority from the fountain of good to do evil? No, my prince: let mean and degenerate spirits, which want benevolence, suppose your power impaired by a disability of doing injuries. If want of power to do ill be an incapacity in a prince, with reverence be it spoken, it is an incapacity he has in common with the Deity. Let me not doubt but all pleas, which do not carry in them the mutual happiness of prince and people, will appear as absurd to your great understanding, as disagreeable to your noble nature. Exert yourself, O generous prince, against such sycophants, in the glorious cause of liberty; and assume such an ambition worthy of you, to secure your fellow-creatures from slavery; from a condition as much below that of brutes, as to act without reason is less miserable than to act against it. Preserve to your future subjects the divine right of being free agents; and to your own royal house the divine right of being their benefactors. Believe me, my prince, there is no other right can flow from God. While your Highness is forming yourself for a throne, consider the laws as so many common-places in your study of the science of government; when you mean nothing but justice they are an ease and help to you. This way of thinking is what gave men the glorious appellations of deliverers and fathers of their country; this made the sight of them rouse their beholders into acclamations, and mankind incapable of bearing their very appearance, without applauding it as a benefit. Consider the inexpressible advantages which will ever attend your Highness, while you make the power of rendering men happy the measure of your actions; while this is your impulse, how easily will that power be extended? The glance of your eye will give gladness, and your very sentence have a force of bounty. Whatever some men would insinuate, you have lost your subjects when you have lost their inclinations. You are to preside over the minds, not the bodies of men ; the soul is the essence of the man, and you cannot have the true man against his inclinations. Choose therefore to be the king or the conqueror of your people; it may be submission, but it cannot be obedience that is passive.-I am, sir, your Highness's most faithful servant. London, Aug, 12, 1611. THOUGHTS WHILE MAKING THE GRAVE OF A NEW-BORN CHILD. [N. P. WILLIS. See Page 236, Vol. I.] Room, gentle flowers! my child would pass to | From lips all pale with agony, and tears, heaven! Ye look'd not for her yet with your soft eyes, Wrung after anguish had dried up with fire One look upon thy face ere thou depart! My daughter! It is soon to let thee go! My daughter! With thy birth has gush'd a spring I knew not of-filling my heart with tears, And turning with strange tenderness to theeA love-O God! it seems so-that must flow Far as thou fleest, and 'twixt heaven and me, Henceforward, be a bright and yearning chain Drawing me after thee! And so, farewell! "Tis a harsh world, in which affection knows No place to treasure up its loved and lost Tripping with laughter down the rocky steps But the foul grave! Thou, who so late wast To whisper the same peace to her who lies THE CHILDREN IN THE WOOD. 49 THE CHILDREN IN THE WOOD. [OLD BALLAD.] OW ponder well, you parents dear, The words which I shall write; A doleful story you shall hear, In time brought forth to light: A gentleman of good account In Norfolk lived of late, Whose wealth and riches did surmount Most men of his estate. Sore sick he was, and like to die, No help that he could have; And both possessed one grave. In love they lived, in love they died, The one a fine and pretty boy, As plainly doth appear, When he to perfect age should come, Five hundred pounds in gold, Which might not be controlled : Ere they to age should come, Within this world to stay. "You must be father and mother both And uncle, all in one; God knows what will become of them With that bespake their mother dear: "And if you keep them carefully, She kissed her children small: "God bless you both, my children dear!" With that the tears did fall. These speeches then their brother spoke Their parents being dead and gone, He bargained with two ruffians rude, He told his wife, and all he had, To be brought up in fair London, Away then went these pretty babes, They should on cock-horse ride. To those that should their butchers be, So that the pretty speech they had Yet one of them, more hard of heart. Had paid him very large. The other would not agree thereto, And he that was of mildest mood He took the children by the hand, When tears stood in their eye; And bade them come and go with him, And two long miles he led them on, While they for food complain: "Stay here," quoth he, “I'll bring you bread When I do come again." These pretty babes, with hand in hand, Went wandering up and down; And now the heavy wrath of God Yea, fearful fiends did haunt his house, His barns were fired, his goods consumed, His cattle died within the field, And nothing with him stayed. And, in the voyage to Portugal, He pawned and mortgaged all his land The fellow that did take in hand The which is here expressed; All you that be executors made, A SCENE IN THE LAST FRENCH REVOLUTION.* ALEXANDER WILLIAM KINGLAKE, born at Taunton, 1811; educated at Eton, and Trinity College, Cambridge; called to the Bar, 1837; Author of "Eothen" and "Invasion of the Crimea."] THE advance-post of the insurgents, at its northwestern extremity, was covered by a small barricade, which crossed the Boulevard at a point close to the Gymnase Theatre. Some twenty men, with weapons and a drum taken in part from the "property room" of the theatre, were behind this rampart, and a small flag, which the insurgents had chanced to find, was planted on the top of the barricade. the point occupied by the head of the column the state of the Boulevards was different. From that point home to the Madeleine the whole carriage. way was occupied by troops; the infantry was drawn up in subdivisions at quarter distance. Along this part of the gay and glittering Boulevard the windows, the balconies, and the footpavements were crowded with men and women who were gazing at the military display. These gazers had no reason for supposing that they incurred any danger, for they could see no one with whom the army would have to contend. It is true that notices had been placed upon the walls recommending people not to encumber the streets. and warning them that they would be liable to be dispersed by the troops without being summoned; but of course those who had chanced to see this announcement naturally imagined that it was a menace addressed to riotous crowds which might be pressing upon the troops in a hostile way. By kind permission of the Author. Facing this little barricade, at a distance of about 150 yards, was the head of the vast column of troops which now occupied the whole of the western Boulevard, and a couple of field pieces stood pointed towards the barricade. In the neutral space between the barricade and the head of the column the shops and almost all the windows were closed, but numbers of spectators, including many women, crowded the foot-pavement. These gazers were obviously incurring the risk of receiving stray shots. But westward of |