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To call to life Affection's budding flow'rs!
She mock'd as fables, when they warmly spae
Of sacrifices for another's sake,
Nor would believe there was a love so dear,
For which all else could be abandon'd here!
A dying widow'd friend left to her care
Her only child: a girl like angel fair,
Quite portionless, but with those gifts of mind
That leave the gifts of fortune far behind;
With one of those warm loving hearts that cling
Like Chilian flow'r to any shelt'ring thing.
Alas! its tendrils could not interlace
With that cold lady's, in a fond embrace,
And, so their wilding beauties grafted where
The apist hid its most insidious snare,
In sympathy, that mutual hearts awake :
Oh no! not mutual-there was the mistake-
Hers was the trustfulness, reliance, love;
But baser passions did the being move
Who won her confidence, but to betray,
Then leave her soon, a hopeless cast-away;—
Unguided, friendless, inexperienced, frail,
She fell for pity, at Love's anguish'd tale.
Then did the glowing lips of charity
Strive to appease the dread severity
That lady felt:-but nothing could abate,
Th' implacability of her deep hate;

Which proves the tale or teller, far too dear!--
He used no arts to win her-yet, she fell
Into the deepest vortex of that hell
Unlawful passion's maelstrom eddies make
For those who its Leucate's plunge dare take.
Love, first between them, issued from her lips;
Yet, like the arrow which the Indian dips
In the manchinelle,* in his vengeful ire
Whose subtle poison ev'ry vein doth fire,
So the confession of her guilty flame
Kindled each fibre of his conscious frame.
But soon the ardour of that passion pass'd—
It was ignited far too fierce to last.
Satiety succeeded; and he turn'd

To where Love's milder radiance purely burn'd.
Oh! then, oppress'd with grief, remorse, and shame,
When ev'ry tongue felt privileged to blame,
Feeling it hard to bear the world's cold scorn,
She fled away in solitude to mourn.

Then on her mem'ry rose a spectral thing,
With hollow eyes, thin hands it seem'd to wring-
While fancied shrieks disturb'd the startled air
From one who died from famine and despair.
Conscience appall'd cried, "Monster! it is she,
The orphan girl, forsaken, starved by thee,
In thy own day of pride;-how fallen now,
With God's own brand on thy adult'rous brow !''
Fast from her eyes ran the repentant tear,
Oh she will pray-will the Almighty hear?
Yes, if the spirit of that injured one
Will plead for her, before His awful throne!
And sure it will, for in those realms above

She deem'd not youth might palliate, in part,
For the transgressions of an erring heart;
She had not felt temptation's tyrant pow'r,
Nor knew how feeble virtue in that hour,
Unless supported by the hand divine,
Whose strength, Oh! failing mortal, 's ever thine! There's no revenge, but all is pardon-love!

Anon, they told her of her penitence,

How much she suffer'd for her one offence-
How humbly she implored to see again
Her mother's friend,-but it was all in vain,
That stern relentless bosom would not yield :
No! to forgiveness-pity-it was steel'd-
So that starved girl died frozen at her door,-
No matter-luckless thing! her griefs were o'er!
Peace was proclaimed !-home came a gallant youth,
Dauntless, and daring, a young Mars, in sooth;
Handsome as Acis, with th' heroic eye
Too sure to prove her star of destiny,
Should woman mark it.-Lit with martial fire,
Yet melting as the hopes of love inspire;
While o'er his cheek, which varied as he spoke,
Blushes, would grace a maiden's, warmly broke;
And curls as glossy cluster'd round his neck
As did Calliope's Apollo deck.
Buoyant and sanguine, redolent of life,

And flush'd with glory from the battle's strife ;-
Her husband's friend: Oh! would they ne'er had

met!

Or his strange influence she could now forget!
Oh would her bosom was as cold-unmoved-
As it was,
when herself she only loved!
Loves she aught else? Alas! she dares not ask!
No! lost Elvira, like the victim bask
Of dreaded Crotalus,‡ (in those dear eyes)
That gazes fascinated till it dies !
Her subjugated heart thrill'd with delight
In hearing him describe fierce Brabant's§ fight,
Which he did carelessly, nor paused to tell
He only fought where foes were most to quell,

The juice extracted from the root of the curare, a species of withe, or the juice of the manchinelle, is used by the natives of South America, to poison their arrows.-Robertson's America, vol. viii. book 7, page 6.

THE FATAL WINNING; OR A NIGHT ON THE PYRENEES. It was towards sunset, on a beautiful evening of the month of August, 18-, that a little cavalcade, consisting of a guide, as usual, half soldier, half mountaineer, his swarthy complexion and jet-black hair sparkling in contrast with the eternal berreta or scarlet cap-a man somewhat past the middle age of life, a young officer in naval uniform, and a lively girl of apparently seventeen or eighteen, engaged in familiar chat, and occasionally interrupting their conversation by an outbreak of buoyant mirth, were passing at an easy trot, on the road between Barrèges and Luz, in the department of the Lower-Pyrenees. The narrow gorge, at the farther extremity of which is situated the small town, or rather village, of Barrèges, now widened to their view; and in the distance rose the antique towers of the castle of Sainte Marie, whose ruins, placed on a steep acclivity, overlook the town of Luz. The chronicles of the Béarnais have preserved no record of this

head; and patting lightly on the neck of her spirited little pony, she started off at full gallop. The young man gave the spur to his own horse, and rode close at her side. The ground was hard, and resounded to the feet of the horses, each of them endeavouring to pass the other. Suddenly, the horse of the young guardian, in making a forward spring to pass by his companion, slipped with his forefeet some round pebbles in the road, and fell: the girths broke, and the cavalier fell forward on the neck of his charger, which was speedily on its legs again. The young lady, who was already far a-head, immediately rode back.

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Come, cheer up, poor cavalier mine,-there's no harm done," cried the lively girl, springing lightly from her horse.

Alfred, without replying, affected to be busy repairing the broken girth.

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Why, surely you are not hurt, Alfred?" she inquired in a tone of tremulous alarm.

"Oh! not in the least, fair cousin," answered Alfred, in a tone half sad, half joking; "but it would seem there are days entirely subjected to the influence of one's evil genius:-days, in which there weights upon one's mind, I know not what fatal presage of misfortune."

"Simpleton!" exclaimed the young girl, striking playfully, with her glove, the hand which Alfred proffered to aid her in remounting her pony-" at your dreams and presentiments again! you will make me low spirited too, and then we should make, you know, but a sorry pair at the Saint-Sauveur ball this evening, that I have been anticipating for the last week ;why, for shame!—and a sailor too,-a pebble rolling beneath your horse's feet ought not to make you so down-hearted." At this moment they were overtaken by Marietta's father, and the guide: in a few words the mishap was explained; Alfred remounted his horse, and the little group shortly afterwards entered the court-yard of the Hotel des Pyrénées at Luz.

Our three travellers might be classed in the first division of Sterne's enumeration ;-those who have nothing to do. M. d'Ambray and his daughter were inhabitants of Toulouse, and Alfred, a lieutenant of marines, and nephew to M. d'Ambray, had come to pass with them his six months' leave of absence.

Alfred was to marry his cousin, and looked forward with impatience to the period of his union with the pretty and beloved Marietta. The month of August was so fine, the Pyrenees were so near! Öne morning, then, they had set out for the mountains: and it was in one of their customary excursions that the little incident of the race for a wager, and unlucky episode of the stumble had happened. This delightful mode of existence, varied by alternate fatigue and recreation, so different from the town life of the one, and the monotonous occu

Nor how his young form writhed beneath the wound spot; and tradition itself is silent on the chap-pations of the other, had its peculiar charm for

Which to behold his mother would have swoon'd
E'en in a dream, cursing the cruel steel,
And with her kisses tried the gap to heal.
He heeded not the wrapp'd intensity
With which she listen'd-nor that her large eye
Grew dim with the almost unhallow'd tear

The flower of the air of Chili and Peru.-Vide Gilbert's Wonders of the World.

+ Apis-blight, canker.-Saturday Magazine. Crotalus-rattlesnakes, and other species of snakes who fascinate their pray with their eyes.-Maunder's Scientific Treasury.

Waterloo, near Brabant, in front of the Forest of

ter of that ancient fortress, now falling to decay; the veil of centuries has closed upon the recollection of its sieges, its combats, its disasters, and it may be, of its triumphs; silencing alike its turmoil and those who caused it.

"Father," said the young girl, "I have wagered with cousin Alfred, that I will reach Saint Mary's tower before he does: will you let me win? The road is so very good!"

"Well, then-but mind, no foolish pranks, Marietta! Alfred, I confide her to you, keep a steady eye upon her."

"A fine guardian, to be sure!" said the

the young couple. Marietta had scarcely attained her nineteenth year: her eyes were black, brilliant, and piercing, as is usual with Southern beauties; whilst the rich tresses of her darkbrown hair clustered in profusion over a forehead of the purest white, and on cheeks suffused with a deep roseate tint. Alfred was tall, slender, and somewhat pale; but the ease of his manner, and his countenance, impressed with a certain character of thoughtfulness and melancholy, prepossessed almost every eye in his favour.

It was the height of the season at Cauterez: and Cauterez is the Cheltenham of the Pyrenees,

Paradise of the affluent lounger, and the refined ennuyé. Saint-Sauveur, too, was crowded -that pretty little town, seated on a gentle slope, with the river Gave at its feet; and as the latter place was full to overflowing, there was also an abundance of good company at Luz, a stone's throw further down, on the opposite bank of the torrent.

Now, for every person on the Continent, belonging to what is conventionally styled the fashionable world, and who understands to its full extent the meaning of the phrase, "I am going to take the benefit of the waters”—there are but three spots on the whole face of the globe fit to exist in, during three months of the year :-Baden, Aix in Savoy, and Cauterez. Having once reached the third of these spots, there is left but one resource; which is, to return to the first, and so on in succession, as long as it pleases Heaven that life should endure. That year, the Pyrenees were in fashion; and to the Pyrenees, accordingly, all the world, that is, the fashionable world, repaired. Cavalcades were crossing and jostling each other on the roads, and sedan-chairs in the streets: so much for the day-time. At night-fall, chandeliers were lighted-the orchestra breathed forth its joyous harmony,-quadrille and waltzing parties gathered around; whilst the play-tables were unfolded on each side, and heaps of gold glittered and chinked on the broad green cloth. Play! thou merciless fiend, gliding in with snake-like stealth, wherever there is hand to sting, or victim to devour! thou hideous leprosy on the great social body, bringing into contact with malignant zeal the healthy members with the gangrenous and corrupt, the more surely to spread the fell contagion! A visitor at every party, a guest at every fête, thou hast thy share marked out for thee beforehand; and

chosen by thyself! Wherever wealth and

youth and beauty are assembled, thither, from his smoky den, repairs the insatiate demon, as the vulture to his destined prey: breathless and haggard but indefatigable in his dire vocation, he brandishes his hideous rake; and there at midnight sits installed in livid splendour as on a throne, scorn in his eye and sarcasm on his lip like the Mephistopheles of the German drama, he counts up the number of his guests with their pale, cadaverous looks and sunken eyes-his constant nightly guests, still faithful in their attendance, as the dog grovels to the master that mercilessly chastises him with kicks and blows!

That evening, at Saint-Sauveur, there was dancing on one side, and play on the other. Here, the glare of wax-lights, the sparkle of diamonds on the foreheads of the women, the confused murmur of lively conversation, drowned in the harmonious voice of the orchestra ;there, two or three wax-lights on a table, round which were seated a coterie of grave, anxiouslooking and thoughtful men,- -a few words exchanged at intervals, and, for accompaniment, the metallic sound of the handfuls of gold, which rolled about and tinkled as they fell.

When our pretty Marietta d'Ambray entered the saloon, leaning on Alfred's arm, the crowd made way for her-every one admiring the handsome couple as they advanced up the ballroom to join in the general festivity, and participate in the common happiness. In a short time afterwards, Marietta, beset on every side with invitations, was dancing, smiling, and oblivious of all around her; forgetful alike of her father, who, from a remote corner of the room, was contemplating her graceful figure with

paternal pride; and of her poor Alfred, who was following her every motion with a lover's eyes, but was seized with a fit of sadness for which he was at a loss to account, and which he endeavoured, in vain, to banish from his mind.

The dances were all made up, the ball-room filled to suffocation. The young man, fatigued with the glare of light, the bustle, and the heat, entered the adjoining room, and approached the hazard-table.

"Come, gentlemen," cried the banker, “there is still a stake or two to be made up." The players sat motionless, looking at each other, but made no reply.

When all of hope is gone;

Without a ray to cheer the gloom,
That makes the heart a living tomb."

We sincerely hope, notwithstanding the present utilitarianism, so depressing to the Child of Song, that there is still sufficient taste left among "the discerning few" to render these Lyrics as popular as they deserve to be. Young ladies, in particular, ought to patronize them, for they will not only improve the taste, but the HEART also.

READ'S WINTER FASHIONS FOR 1842-3.-Mr. Read's celebrity, as designer and publisher of the fashions of the gay metropolis, will be greatly increased by his beautiful and attractive print for the present season. It is unique in design, and exe"I make the rest, sir," said Alfred, uncon-cuted in the best style of the art. The scene chosen cernedly, willing to try whether the sad fore- for representation is the promenade of Madame bodings with which his mind had been haunted Tussaud's exhibition, displaying the coronation during the day, had the slightest foundation. tableaux in which George the Fourth is "the obAnd then, without further thought on the served of all observers," with his imperial robes, subject, he leaned against the door of the which are stated to have cost £18,000. As a mere saloon, searching amongst the crowd of faded picture, the print is a curiosity to the lovers of art; whilst to "the profession," at this period of the forms, resplendent with jewellery, features heightened with rouge, and eyes sparkling with about to be succeeded by the more substantial and year, when the gay and light drapery of summer is artificial lustre, for the charming little head, cosey articles of Schneiderism, it will be invaluable. and the sweet look of his lovely Marietta. -It will be seen that the print is just published. The harsh voice of the banker recalled the young sailor from his reverie. "You have won, sir," said he, in a sharp and grating tone.

And the banker pushed towards him a heap of gold.

66

I!" said Alfred, approaching the table, nay, but that cannot be possible.' (To be continued.)

LITERATURE.

Florence

Cosmetics.-Too much caution cannot be used

by Ladies in the adoption of these aids to beauty, many of them being very injurious in their ultimate one, is therefore to render an acceptable service to effects. To point out an innocent and efficacious

the fair sex. GODFREY'S EXTRACT OF ELDER

FLOWERS has acquired great celebrity as well for its efficacy as for pleasure in its application. It communicates a refreshing coolness and softness to the skin, and completely removes Tan, Pimples, and cutaneous Eruptions, giving to the Complexion a clear and healthful appearance not to be otherwise obtained.

Lyrics for Leisure Hours.—By The Weather.-At this season of the year Ladies Wilson.-London: Cunningham and Mortimer. are apt to suffer much from chapped hands. From -This truly elegant little volume, without time to time various remedies have been recomGems for Every Hour, containing, as it does, many a parallel is not to be found to the celebrated Ointany assumption of vanity, might have been called mended, but personal experience convinces us that poems of superior merit; indeed, when the age of ment manufactured by Mr. DOWNARD;-it comthe authoress is taken into consideration, (barely pletely cures, after a few applications, all affections seventeen,) they show a talent beyond such early of the skin produced by change of temperature, &c. years; possessing a strain of thought and reflection The Linen Drapery Trade.-It appears to us, not always found in older and more worldly-wise writers; see par example the "Illustrations of that it would be more fair and equitable, if assigScriptural Subjects;" "The Voice of Conscience;"nees to estates under bankruptcy were to dispose "A Sabbath Thought;" and the following stanzas of their stocks only by tender to the trade, as the "Why should we name the dead,

But with a mournful sound?
Like odour from a flower-vase shed,
Their memory scatters round

A sweetness, though they sleep in death,
More fragrant than a living wreath.
From all life's perils safe,
The struggles and the woes
That HERE the vexed spirit chafe
And wreck the heart's repose;
Why should we mourn that they have passed
The stormy wave-the raging blast?

The loss is not to them-
Theirs is the certain gain;
While we are left the tide to stem,
They rest from care or pain;
And o'er their lot we should rejoice,
Nor lift to Heaven a murmuring voice.
No! rather let us mourn

O'er hearts whose love hath changed;
O'er faith that NEVER can return
When once its truth has ranged;
Hearts rent by death rejoin in Heaven,
Not so the hearts that EARTH has riven.
Through long and wearying years
THEY still must linger on;
Sad pilgrim's mid this vale of tears,

complaints are quite distressing of the ruinous consequences to the fair trader, having to compete with such houses as Nicholson's, 60, Bishopsgate Street Within, now selling off the immense stock of Stephen Telfour and Co., at one third the cost price.-See Advertisement.

Cardinal Capes, are the prevailing fashion; but Messrs. Hall and Co., of Wellington Street, in the Strand, have produced a useful article in this way, and which is suited for gentlemen as well as ladies It is simply a silk cape covered by their patent Pannus-Corium process, which may with perfect convenience be carried in the coat pocket or the reticule! All those who value health should be prepared with this admirable contrivance, and bid defiance to the storm.

MILITARY ALMANACK.-A most useful and interesting broad sheet under this title has been produced by Mr. C. Mitchell, marking with "white stones" the anniversaries of the most memorable events in our military history, and presenting in pleasing form and with admirable arrangement, an immense mass of information respecting the administration of army affairs (at home, or in any portions of our extensive empire), including everything of utility connected with the managing authorities of all military establishments, colleges, hospitals, asylums, army boards, commanding officers, and staff, &c.-Times, December 28.

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