THE GREEN MOSSY BANK WHERE THE BUTTERCUPS GREW. BY MRS. AMELIA B. WELBY. OH my thoughts are away where my infancy flew, To the spot where the fountain grew suddenly still! Rose and fell with the wave as if stirred by a dream, view, As I played on the bank where the buttercups grew. The beautiful things! how I watched them unfold, Till they lifted their delicate vases of gold. "You will not forget me," said Marion Gray, for so was the maiden named, "when you are mixing with the great world. I hope, nay, I am sure, you will still remember her whose every thought will be devoted to you." "Doubt it not, dear Marion," was the reply. “Walter Edwards will not forget the fair who has plighted her affection to him truly and faithfully." "Yet, Walter, there is one thing on which I think with pain. I, who should have no secret from you, good and kind as you are, have that on my mind which I scarcely dare to tell." "What is that?" "You have been to me all that I could desire, you have left no wish unfulfilled: yet now, while your vows are ringing in my ears, and your hand is clasped in mine, the thought creeps over me, that-thatdear Walter, you will forgive the past concealment that our belief is not the same, Oh, never a spot since those days have I seen [sheen, that we trust to different faiths for our sal With leaves of such freshness, and flowers of such How glad was my spirit! for then there was nought To burthen its wing, save some beautiful thought Breaking up from its depths with each wild wind that blew, O'er the green mossy bank where the buttercups grew. The paths I have trod I would quickly retrace Could I wander again where my forehead was starr'd With the beauty that dwelt in my bosom unmarr'd; THE BETRAYER. A SKETCH OF THE OLDEN TIME. It was a summer's evening in July, a bright sun was shining on the golden crops of corn, ready for the reaper, and the gay groups of village maidens rejoicing in all the light-heartedness of youth, for past sports or anticipated pleasures. One attached couple had wandered by the side of a river; the maiden looking up to her companion's face with all the confidence of affection, while the tall and even stately form of her companion responded to her look with a kind pressure of the hand, or affectionate glance of the eye. vation." "An awful penalty awaits those so offending. I do. Death is denounced against those who court the book of life." And this was then the mournful truth. The spirit of bigotry and vengeance had let loose the furies of the mind. Stern priests believed that they presented a grateful offering to a God of mercy, by destroying their fellow-men for differing from them in spiritual matters, and that, too, while one of the gentle sex sat upon the throne. The emissaries of the exasperated ministers of religion spread themselves everywhere throughout the country in disguise among the people. Fires were blazing in Smithfield; daughters were torn from their pa rents, brothers from their sisters, the aged husband from her whom he had protected for fifty years, and given to the flames for the very deed which Marion had confessed. Aware of this, the young man manifested a trembling eagerness to know where this all-important volume could be safely concealed. On this point he questioned Marion very closely, and it was not till she had minutely described the secure hiding-place in which it was deposited, that he seemed moderately at his ease. "I know," said she, "that there is danger, but greater, more terriffic danger still would exist for me were my soul left in darkness; and rather than this, if it must be so, I am ready, if need be, to seal the truth with my blood; and, feeble as I am, the fearful struggle with death would be trifling compared to the thought that you were left to mourn, with none to comfort." "Speak not thus !" SCENE II. In an antique and stately room, of which but few specimens how remain, sate one, whose name had spread terror over England: Cardinal Pole. Near him was a table, strewed with papers, at which his secretary was writing. Pictures of the saints, and of their martyrdoms hung around, excepting on one side, which was concealed by a crimson drapery. The door opened, and Marion Gray, attended by two guards, entered, and with a firm but subdued demeanor, stood, face to face, with the dreadful man who was the arbiter of her fate. For a space he sternly regarded her, as if surprised to see one so young. "Know you the crime," he at length said, with a stern calmness," for which you are this day brought here?" "I have been told," replied Marion, "Night after night," continued Marion," that it is for following the true faith, and ere I retire to rest, do I ponder over the that," she added, meekly but firmly, "I word of God, and the sacred volume placed hold to be no crime." beneath my pillow; I sleep with more confidence for the knowledge of its presence." "The sun is sinking," said Walter Edwards, hastily. "Ere many hours are over I must be far on my journey to London.' You will not forget me!" 66 "Trust to me, Marion, farewell!” They tenderly exchanged adieus, and parted. Walter turned repeatedly to look back on the fair one he promised soon to claim once for all. That period, from the circumstances above described, during the reign of Queen Mary, was a fearful one for England: the blood of her best and most pious sons was poured forth like water. Emissaries, to discover the followers of the new creed, were secretly dispatched to every county in England. Walter Edwards had come, an unknown man, to the village of Sevenoaks, and had been attracted to Marion by the mildness of her demeanor, and perhaps by the report which was spread about from some unknown source, that she had been converted to the religion of Luthur. That she was such we have seen by the conversation recorded, and that he had succeeded in winning the guileless affections of poor Marion is beyond all doubt. He left for the great city. The mandate of authority soon compelled Marion to fol low him. "How, maiden! that which our church forbids, and which holy men disavow, call you that no crime? Hast thou not broken our sovereign's commands, and held in thy possession a copy of that volume which is forbidden to such as thee?" "It is true." 66 And canst thou, a child, pretend to understand it?" "It is written there, a child shall not err therein," said the captive, simply, quoting the divine word. "But who has accused me?" "Maiden," replied the Cardinal, "thou shalt behold thine accuser.' As he spoke he made a sign to his secretary, who rang a small bell which rested on the table. At the summons the crimson drapery was moved, and slowly stepping forward, the tall form of Walter Edwards appeared. “And art thou, too," exclaimed Marion, with a deep sigh, "in the hands of this ter rible man? Now, God protect us, for our hopes on earth are few!" 66 What mean you?" exclaimed the Cardinal. "What mean I?" replied Marion, wrought almost to frenzy by the sight. "Could not cruelty be content with the destruction of one over whom scarce eighteen summers have passed? Will not my blood suffice, but must ye slay one who has only Sinned by loving me. bless you." Spare him and I will | prisoner was led to the only lodging she was to possess on this side the grave. Woman, thou art beside thyself. Speak, Walter Edwards, and say how thou didst track this guilty one to her home, and wring from her the secret of her false faith. Say, man," he continued, not heeding the agonizing remorse which passed over Edward's face," say, that thou hast denounced her to the church, and given her to our chastisement. Speak, art thou dumb?""' Gasping for breath the accuser muttered, "Pardon me, my lord—a sudden faintness -it is as thou hast said." "You do not mean it, Walter; you cannot mean it: the presence of the slayer of God's saints hath turned thy brain. Yet, no," ," she exclaimed, suddenly; "by the eye which meets not mine; by thy bowed form, and by the quivering whiteness of thy lip, thou hast spoken truly." "It is even so," in a low voice murmured the accuser. "Horror, horror!" exclaimed Marion, now fully comprehending the mighty calamity which had fallen on her. "And from your hands, Walter Edwards!-you, on whom I leaned in all my troubles; you, who seemed to me so kind, so gentle; you! God of my fathers, in this hour of trial, save and sustain me." "What is thine answer?" demanded the Cardinal. "I never read the sacred book," said, or rather muttered Marion, utterly disregarding the question, "but his name seemed written there. I never knelt before it, but his name rose to my lips; I never placed it beneath my pillow, but his image rose, blended with peaceful thoughts and earnest prayers. Walter, Walter, 'twas a poor triumph-man's wit against woman's love. Earth hath nothing more monstrous to tell!" "Time presses," said the Caardinal: "thine answer, girl!" 66 My answer, Lord Cardinal, is this," and the speaker seemed inspired with un"that of earthly energy as she proceeded, all those whom thy cruelty has laid low; of the hundreds thou hast destroyed, and of the hearts thou hast blasted, none disregard thy punishments or laugh to scorn thy threats more than the despised village maiden now before thee!" With a stern glance he pointed to the door by which she had entered, and the SCENE III. In a cell, to which the light of day could scarcely reach, lay Marion Gray. The fiat had gone forth, and on the morrow she was to add another to the list of those who had died for faith. It was midnight, when a noise, as of the grating of a door upon its hinges, aroused her; and, springing from her hard couch, she saw the form, once so dear, of him who had betrayed her. He entered with a slow and melancholy step; and there, in that damp cold cell, by the flickering light of a dull lamp, met, for the last time, the betrayer and his victim! "Marion," said a low melancholy voice. "What would you, Walter, with one who has done with the world?" "I have come to implore your pardon," was the answer, in a voice almost choked by tears. "Ask it of God, Walter: I am at peace with all the world!" "Within this week, Marion," said Edwards, "I have suffered the anguish of Look on this furrowed cheek, on years. this wasted brow, and on these hollow eyes." "You have cause for bitterness. I am doomed by you. Is my face as fresh as when you first sought me? Is it nothing Is it to die in the spring-time of youth? nothing to feel that a terrible death awaits me?" said Marion, touchingly. "Oh, Marion, would you but consent to You may yet be live! Recant in time. saved. For your repentant lover's sake renounce your heresy.' 66 Peace, Walter." "If you could but say the word, and worship your God in a different form, happiness would await us. In a distant land you might teach me that which you have learned, and on a foreign shore might our bones rest, peacefully and calmly in the same grave, with but one hope, one faith, and one God!" "Walter, Walter! you trouble me, yet you plead in vain. Weak and frail as I am, I am content to die in the faith I have avowed, for the Deity I worship will give me comfort in the hour of affliction. And now farewell: I would gather strength in sleep for my last trial." He renewed his importunity, but in vain; EARLY TIMES IN THE WEST. AN EXTRACT FROM THE EMIGRANT,' BY F. W. THOMAS. And looked up to the sky and shaped his course aright. That mountain, there, that lifts its bald high head That sceptre of the wild, that had so often won. Who watched their coming with a hate profound, And fought with deadly strife for every inch of ground. I CALLED one morning on a high dignitary of the Church; ascending a magnificent staircase, I passed through a long suit of rooms to the apartments in which the reverend ecclesiastic was seated. Having concluded my visit, I bowed and departed, but turned, according to the invariable custom of the country, when I reached the door, and made another salutation. My host was slowly following me, and returned my inclination by one equally profound; when I arrived at the door of the second apartment, he was standing on the threshold of the first, and the same ceremony again passed between us; when I had gained the third apartment, he was occupying the place I had just left on the second; the same civilities were then renewed, and these polite reciprocations were continued till I traversed the whole suit of apartments. At the Or sought the glutted foe through many a devious track. banisters I made a low, and, as I supposed, a final salutation; but no: when I had reached the first landing-place, he was at the top of the stairs; when I stood on the second ladingplace, he had descended to the first; and upon each and all of these occasions our heads wagged with incresed humility. Our jour To shun a greater ill sought they the wild? How cautiously, yet fearlessly, that boy Would search the forest for the wild beast's lair, If chance he spied an Indian lurking there: ney to the foot of the stars was at length And leaving death with them, bounds home right hap completed. I had now to pass through a long hall, divided by columns, to the front door, at which my carriage was standing. Whenever I reached one of these pillars, I turned and found his eminence waiting the expected bow, which he immediatley returned, continually progressing, and managing his paces so as to go through his share ofthe ceremony on the precise spot which had witnessed my last inclination. As I approached the hall-door our mutual salutations were no longer occasional, but absolutely perpetual; and ever and anon they still continued, after I had entered my carriage, as the bishop stood with uncovered head till it was driven away. Lord Carnarvon. Before the mother, bursting through the door, And lifts the weapon, yet delays the blow: THE DAGUERREOTYPE, THE secret of M. DAGUERRE's wonderful invention, or discovery, by which he is enabled to transfer an exact transcript of rural scenery, buildings, etc. to paper, and fix the colors permanently, is disclosed in the following article, copied from the London Globe. For disclosing the secret, M. Daguerre is said to have received from the French Government six thousand francs, and M. NIEPCE, who also made discoveries in the same direction, four thousand francs. Ir having been announced that the process employed by M. DAUGERRE for fixing images of objects by the camera obscura would be revealed on Monday, at the sitting of the Academy of Sciences, every part of the space reserved for visiters was filled as early as one o'clock, although it was known that the description of the process would not take place until three. Upwards of two hundred persons who could not obtain admittance remained in the court-yard of the Palace of the Institute. The following is an analysis of the description given on this occasion by M. ARAGO: sheets, the oil disappeared, and there remained a whitish powder adhering to the sheet. This sheet, thus prepared, was placed in the camera obscura; but when withdrawn the objects were hardly visible upon it. M. Niepce then resorted to new means for rendering the objects more distinct. For this purpose, he puts his sheets, when removed from the camera obscura, into a mixture of oil of lavender and oil of petroleum. How M. Niepce arrived at this discovery was not explained to us; it is sufficient to state that, after this operation, the objects became as visible as ordinary engravings, and it only remained to wash the sheet with distilled water to make the drawings permanent. But as the bitume de Judee is rather ash-colored than white, M. Niepce had to discover the means of increasing the shadows by more deeply blackening the lines, (hachures.) For this purpose he employed a new mixture of sulphuret of potassium and iodine. But he (M. Niepce) did not succeed as he expected to do, for the iodine spread itself over the whole surface, and rendered the objects more confused. The great inconvenience, however, of the process was the little The influence of light upon colors was sensitiveness of the coating, (enduit,) for it known long ago. It had been observed that sometimes required three days for the light substances exposed to its action were affect- to produce sufficient effect. It will easily ed by it; but beyond this fact nothing was be conceived, therefore, that this means was known until 1536, when a peculiar ore of not applicable to the camera obscura, upon silver was discovered, to which was given which it is essential that the object should the name of argent corne, and which had be instantaneously fixed, since, the relative the property of becoming black when ex-positions of the sun and earth being changed, posed to the ligh'. Photographic science the objects formed by it were destroyed. remained at this point until it was discover- M. Niepce was therefore without hope of ed that this argent corne (chloruret of sil- doing more than multiplying engravings, in ver) did not become black under all the rays which the objects, being stationary, are not of light. It was remarked that the red ray effected by the different relative positions of scarcely effected any change, whilst the vi- the sun. M. Daguerre was devoting himolet ray was that which produced the great- self to the same pursuit as M. Niepce when est influence. M. J. Baptiste Porta then he associated himself with that gentleman, invented the camera obscura, and numerous and brought to the discovery an important efforts were made to fix the pretty miniature improvement. The coating employed by objects which were seen upon the table of M. Niepce had been laid on by means of a it, and the transitory appearance of which was a subject of general regret. All those efforts were fruitless up to the time of the invention of M. Niepce, which preceded that of M. Daguerre, and led to the extraordinary result that the latter gentleman has obtained. M. Niepce, after a host of attempts, employed sheets of silver, which he covered with bitumen (bitume de Judee) dissolved in oil of lavender, the whole being covered with a varnish. On heating these tampon, or dabber, similar to the process used in printing, and consequently the coating was neither of a regular thickness nor perfectly white. M. Daguerre conceived the idea of using the residuum which is obtained from lavender by distilling it; and, to render it liquid and applicable with more regularity, he dissolved it in ether. Thus a more uniform and whiter covering was ob tained, but the object, notwithstanding, was not visible at once; it was necessary to |