trast to her elder sister. Tall, slight, with masses of the darkest hair, glossy and beautiful, folded simply round her head in thick braids, with a more lofty, refined, spiritual style of beauty in her features, and a more sweet and earnest expression in her dark eyes, well might she excite the envy of some, and gratify the admiration of others, of the gazers who turned so inquiringly toward her; and, above all, well might she justify the conscious air of undisguised pleasure with which the princess presented her to her imperial mistress. As they retired from making their obeisance to their imperial hosts, the kind eyes of the empress followed them with some interest; and she smiled slightly to see how many aspirants pressed forward to solicit the hand of Natalie for the dance about to begin. But ere she could make a selection, the Grand-duke Alexander, the present Emperor of all the Russias, passed through the crowd, and led her out from the midst of the many competitors for the first waltz. Nor were Natalie's triumphs destined to end here; the emperor himself congratulated the princess on her sister's rare attractions, and the empress hinted that, on the first occasion, she would decorate her with the chiffre, and appoint her maid of honor. Never had a ball seemed so delightful, and never did a princess return to her home more gratified than she did on that memorable night; and, indeed, it was but the commencement of a series of conquests; and this might account for the fair Natalie refusing many brilliant and unexceptionable offers of marriage. Possibly, young as she was, she shrunk from surrendering her liberty so soon-possibly she nursed some girlish dream of greater love and more faithful devotion than these courtly suitors seemed likely to bestow upon her. Her sister left her undisturbed, and made no remonstrances on account of those many rejections; perhaps she did not wish so soon to relinquish the pleasure of her society, or the share of popularity that Natalie's success reflected upon herself. In the meantime, as had been expected, the younger sister was created maid of honor to her majesty; and the first separation between them occurred when she went with the court to spend the summer season quietly at Peterhof, in the happy domestic circle of her imperial mistress. There, the attraction the empress had felt toward her from the very first ripened into warm interest; for during the many hours of quiet life, rendered imperative by her feeble health, Natalie's beautiful voice and great musical talents contributed much to cheer and soothe her; and in the humbler occupation of reading aloud, the maid of honor spent many hours of most pleasurable retirement with the family of one she learned to love as a friend, while she revered and honored her as a mistress. So passed the brief bright summer days at Peterhof. In the meantime, people began to wonder why the heir-apparent of the throne did not marry. His father more than once spoke to him seriously on the duty that lay before him, and questioned him respecting his feelings toward the various German princesses whose families alone could be honored by his choice. The grand-duke answered lightly enough, that there was plenty of time before him; and with a significant shrug of the shoulders, that made even his father's face relax into a smile, dismissed the topic. By and by, the empress also addressed her son on the same subject, telling him openly how anxious she felt about it. He answered her as he had done his father; but it is not so easy to deceive a mother's eye; she well knew this assumed indifference vailed some deeper feeling in her son's heart. She determined to watch him narrowly. Judge, then, of the mingled consternation and pain with which she became convinced her favorite Natalie was the object of his affections, and when she could not but believe that the feeling was warmly reciprocated. The Princess Gagarine was immediately commanded to a private interview; wherein, to her extreme surprise, the empress, with heightened color and nervous trembling of the voice, accosted her by demanding abruptly what she knew about her sister's audacious attachment. The princess, of course, denied all knowledge, all suspicion of the fact imputed, and endeavored to reassure the empress by declaring that she must be mistaken; but when she was dismissed, and could question Natalie in private, she found that such was by no means the case. In vain did she argue with her that it was impossible the grandduke should really love her; in vain represent to her that he only assumed the appearance of affection to amuse himself at her expense; and urged upon her, by every consideration of pride, of self-respect, and womanly feeling, to rouse herself from so dangerous, so fatal a delusion. To all this, Natalie only made reply by confessing the most entire faith in her lover's protestations. After a prolonged and painful discussion, the princess sought her husband's advice upon the matter. He took it up most seriously, and threw himself upon his sister-in-law's compassion, imploring her for all their sakes, to combat and control her unfortunate passion; adding, "If once it reach the ears of his majesty, we are all ruined." Next day the princess besought an interview with her majesty, which was immediately granted; and throwing herself at the empress's feet, she implored her to pardon what she called her guilty negligence in not having foreseen such a possibility, and warned her sister against yielding to it, declaring her own and her husband's perfect innocence in other respects. "Command us, madame, and how gladly and implicitly shall you be obeyed! I will watch over my unfortunate sister night and day never shall they meet again: never shall any messages or correspondence pass between them; only, I entreat your majesty, keep what has transpired a secret from the emperor, or we are all lost." The empress, mollified by her candor and submission, promised to think over it and see her again. Three days from that time, the two sisters were on their way to Italy, as the rumor ran, to cultivate to the utmost the great musical talent of the younger lady, which had so recommended her to her imperial mistress' favor. itself, this would have excited no surprise; but the downcast looks, ill health, and evident depression of spirits under which the grand-duke labored, gave rise to many whispered hints, that took form and shape gradually, and which did not escape the eagle observation of the czar; therefore it was with more authority of manner than in his first discussion with his son, that he commanded him to prepare for a tour into Germany, for the express purpose of selecting his future consort. the Princess Mary of Darmstadt began to be currently reported. In the meantime, Natalie had gradually faded away like a flower transplanted to some uncongenial soil, and with the heat of the noonday sun pouring down unsheltered upon its head. She had altered day by day, wasting and fretting away to a pale, delicate, spiritless girl. Her medical men pronounced her illness to be a decline; there seemed not so much of actual disease, as utter prostration of strength, and an overwhelming lassitude and languor, from which nothing could arouse her; and they suggested that, as a last resource, revisiting her native land might be beneficial, as, indeed, it seemed to offer the only hope of recovery. Then, for the first time, the Princess Gagarine ventured to forward a petition to the emperor, stating her sister's case, and soliciting most humbly permission to return to Russia. On the first presenta tion of the request, it was refused 'most peremptorily; but the empress, hearing how pale, and feeble, and altered her old favorite had become, interfered with such success, that not only were they recalled to the capital, but on the first anniversary, after their return, of the day of St. Nicholas, their names again appeared among those honored by an invitation to the court-ball. On that evening, let us enter the boudoir of the princess an hour or two before the time appointed for their attendance. It. was the first time Natalie had ventured to appear in public; and on this occasion she lay back on her sofa, propped up with pilIn lows, so weak and exhausted that the most uninterested spectator would have dreaded for her the excitement and fatigue of such an exertion. But it is needless to say that neither of them for a moment hesitated to obey the flattering command which summoned them once more within the orbit of the court. I have said Natalie lay resting quietly on her sofa; the princess sat opposite to her buried in thought, anxious and nervous about the fate of the evening. She did not speak to her, not daring to ask even how she felt, and far less venturing to make the slightest allusion to past events. Indeed, by tacit consent, the one topic had never once been touched upon since they left Russia. Three years passed away, and the short and brilliant reign of Natalie Polensky had been almost forgotten in the triumphs of later and more fortunate beauties; the Grand-duke Alexander had recovered his usual health and spirits, and even the likelihood of his approaching nuptials with There was a strange contrast between the crimson velvet cushions and the white transparent face, pale and pure, with every feature sharpened and refined by her wasting and undefined illness. The large dark eyes looked larger than ever, now that they seemed to usurp more than their due proportion of the face, and the thick masses of dark hair fell loose and disarranged round her shoulders. Never had her sister seen her look so touchingly beautiful. Her dress for the evening, of white lace, lay on a chair near her, and with it the wreath of lilies of the valley, one of the commonest of Russian wild flowers, which she had selected to wear. She lay back abstracted, turning round and round her thin finger a simple little enameled ring she had worn night and day for the last three years—a ring she most jealously refused to take off, and which, she confessed, had words engraved inside it which none but herself and the giver knew of; but who that giver was, or what the motto, the princess could never ascertain. So they stayed to the last moment, Natalie murmuring to herself the refrain of a little German song, an especial favorite of the empress-an adieu, full of unshed tears. At last, the Prince Gagarine entering, with some remark on the lateness of the hour, broke the spell of sorrowful recollections, and they rose to prepare for the court-ball. But under what different auspices did they again enter that splendid saloon! With what slow and faltering steps did they advance to pay their respects to their imperial hosts! The eyes of the empress turned sadly away as Natalie withdrew from the presence; but while she had stood before her, her lips had uttered only cold and commonplace regrets for her illness. Beside her stood the emperor and the grand-duke; and every shade of color faded away while she felt what scrutinizing eyes were noting, with merciless exactness, every point of difference in her appearance since she stood there last. The ordeal was soon over; and pale, careworn, and neglected, she sat as an uninterested spectator, gazing on a scene in which she once would have taken a distinguished part. But as the evening wore on, she seemed to rally, and the warmth and excitement brought a glow brighter than health to her cheek. She had constantly refused to dance; and it was not until quite late in the evening that she consented to stand up and take part in a quadrille. Her partner was one of her old admirers, who still loved her with the same warmth he had expressed years before. I have said she had already met face to face the heir-apparent of the throne. | Then, not the sharpest observation could have detected, beyond her extreme pallor, any sign of emotion or embarrassment. The grand-duke had behaved with the most princely courtesy, and she, on her side, with reserve and respect. But who shall describe her confusion when Alexander took his place opposite her in the dance? It was too late to retreat-all eyes were fixed upon them—and, above all predominant, she knew the emperor's gaze was concentrated on them alone. In the figure where their hands met for a moment, to the astonishment of everybody, the grand-duke retained Natalie's hand so long in his grasp that she lost all self-possession; the room seemed to swim round her, the music to become an indistinct murmur; the coldness of death crept over her limbs, and she was on the point of falling, when the emperor stepped forward, and without saying a word, drew her arm within his, and carried rather than led her out of the room; and while some hastened to order round her carriage, to facilitate her departure, he wrapped her in her furred mantle, and, after seeing her safe in her sister's care, returned to the ball-room without changing a muscle of his face. What a world of emotion and struggle there may be in the heart at the very time when we seem most placidly occupied with simply external things! The quadrille was not over when the emperor returned to the room; but those who knew what grave interests were concerned in this little scene, that took not half the time to enact it has taken to describe, were not deceived by the expression of his marble face. Early next morning, to the surprise of the whole household at Natalie's home, the emperor was announced, desiring to speak to her alone. With a beating heart she descended to the interview, and awaited the first word. Conceive, then, her feelings when he addressed her as follows: "Natalie Polensky, you know that I have always taken the greatest possible interest in your welfare: tell me now, what are your prospects for the future?" "Sire," she replied, "I can answer you without a moment's hesitation, since to- | feelings to what he believed his duty. He morrow I leave St. Petersburgh for Va- | had done so even in the present instance. renège, where I enter the convent, never By one word of imperative command, he to leave it again." She stopped, ex- could have attained his object; but the hausted, leaning for support against the autocrat had stooped to argument and soedge of a table. licitation with the young girl, who bent like a reed before him. "Sit down, Natalie, and listen to me," resumed her interrogator in a kindlier tone. "This must not be; I have in store for you pleasanter prospects. You danced last night with Count Maurenosoff; if I mistake not, he still loves you, and is anxious to renew his proposals for your hand. If such be the case, I shall give you away myself, and your wedding shall be celebrated at the Winter Palace." Natalie knew too well what this meant, the kind, calm tone, and the unmistakable expression of those steadfast, determined eyes; yet she felt at the moment she could dare anything rather than consent to a union which, under other circumstances, might have gratified many a womanly weakness. In her desperation, however, she took courage, and sank at the feet of the czar: "Sire," she murmured, "hear me but once more, and you will relent. I love and was beloved by one to whom I swore more than once never to be another's. Let me, O let me only remain faithful to that oath I ask no more!" The stern, impenetrable Nicholas was touched by her appeal, and, taking her by the hand, said: "My child, listen to a father. The oath you tell me of was a childish one. I doubt not he also bound himself by the like. Remember, Natalie-remember he is heir to my throne, and therefore must not, and cannot, follow his own wishes and impulses. I sacrifice mine a hundred times a day for my country's welfare. All rests with you, and I cannot doubt what your decision will be. While you hold to your word, think you he will consent to break his? So, for the sake of your sovereign, of your country, of him you profess so to love, I demand of you this sacrifice, bitter as it is!" The poor girl hid her face in her hands, and almost inaudibly said: Sire, I am your majesty's slave." It was true what he had said; it was no high-sounding speech of merely worldly policy; for those who knew Nicholas best do believe him, however mistaken, to have been a conscientious man, who actually did daily and hourly sacrifice his private At the betrothal, which took place immediately; and during the whole time of the splendid preparations for the wedding, Natalie lived and moved as in a dreamnothing gave her pleasure, nothing pain. On the evening appointed for the religious ceremony, when all the guests were assembled, and the bridemaids, thirty-six in number, and mustering among them the highest rank and beauty of the young nobility of Russia, were assembled in the magnificently lighted and decorated church when the bridegroom Maurenosoff stood, looking, in spite of all the repulses he had received at Natalie's hands, proud, contented, and almost happy-all eyes were turned toward the church-doors, when presently the bells began noisily to announce the approach of the bride, and in another instant, leaning on the emperor's arm, she appeared. Never shall I forget that scene-never lose from my memory the impression of that marble face and utterly unresisting manner. If she had been in her coffin, she would have looked less deathlike there, than when she stood shrouded in lace and glittering with jewels staring at vacancy, hearing nothing, understanding nothing, answering as if the words and their meaning were alike indifferent. After the ceremony was concluded, she received the congratulations of her friends, and even the kiss of the empress, as if so many condolences had been offered her. But nature broke down under the forced composure of the moment, and she entered her new home, borne across the threshold in a state of insensibility. I need add nothing more. The emperor had judged rightly; and the marriage of the grand-duke with the present empress took place very shortly afterward. Within a year after her marriage, I saw the Countess Maurenosoff in her coffin: she had died giving birth to twin-daughters. The incidents of this little narrative are well known in St. Petersburgh, and will be recognized by many, who will appreciate the reasons that have made me alter the names of all but the principal actors. [For the National Magazine.] RISE, DECLINE, AND FALL OF REV. I JOB SHADDAKY. THINK it may be laid down as a safe Hydrarg. Sub. Mu. grs. viii. 46 xii. X. gains its natural calling, and success the most splendid rewards a different pursuit, illustrating the blunder of having ever began the first; just as a fragrant plant, covered by a flat stone, forces its way under the obstruction, lifts itself into the clear air, and spreads a grateful odor all around. But it is the misfortune of many to find their mistake, or the mistake of those who chose for them, when it is too late to repair the mischief; when long habit has destroyed the flexibility of their minds, and they are neither fit for what they are, nor good for anything else. Nature, or nature's God, which means the same, cut them out for one thing, but education made them another. The consequence is a sad misfit, and a spoiling of the material in the bargain. But lest I should weary the reader's patience by carrying these reflections to a tedious length, I will here drop them, and get at once to the story. In an interior county of the great State of New-York, there lived and flourished a family bearing a name neither common nor euphonious. Adonijah Shaddaky was the male head of the house, and Patience, his wife, was a helpmate exactly suitable in letters, and his wife was not more knowing every respect. Adonijah was ignorant of than himself. They were both religious, industrious, and frugal. The heaviest wheat covered their fields, the finest apples grew in their orchards, and the fattest mutton grazed the rich pasture of their meadow lands. In process of time this worthy couple had five sons and three daughters. Job Shaddaky was the youngest, and, of course, the favorite child of his parents. As his four brothers came of age, they married and settled on farms, the gifts of their father. Job was intended for higher things. As no literary light while a young gentleman of phlegmatic had ever been set on a candlestick to give temper, and nearly tongue-tied, is sent into light to the house of Shaddaky, it had long a pulpit to alarm or persuade stubborn and been the cherished purpose of both parents fastidious sinners into repentance and a to bestow that shining distinction on him. new life. All this is as much out of place He was first to be made a scholar, and then as if the eagle's beak had been given to a a clergyman. Accordingly, with the full dove, or the wings of an albatross to a benefit of all the learning he had received wren. It is therefore not to be wondered in the Valley school-house, he was sent to at, that nature's suggestion having been college at eighteen. At twenty-one he unheeded, men should grow weary of their was regularly entered, as a student of theolemployments, quarrel with the difficulties ogy, in the ancient and renowned theologof their vocation, and indulge the restless ical seminary of - At twenty-six he desire for change. It often happens, how- was ordained and made a minister, accordever, that a misplaced genius seeks anding to the forms of the church of which all VOL. IX.-4 |