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the spirit of nature: when shaking off the cumbrous load of earthly inquietude, she roams in freedom through her boundless expanse: nor fettered to the present, Memory kindly lends her aid to conjure up the past, and Fancy leads her on to contemplate the future.

"I arrived in my ramble at a spot which Nature seemed to have chosen to blend all her powers of charming. The dark foliage which grew around threw a soft and melancholy shade upon the scene; the beautiful wild flowers loaded the air with their simple perfume; while the wind, which here sighed with a deeper murmur, accorded well with the rippling of a brook that rolled over the white and shinning pebbles, winding along in intricate mazes, till the eye lost it's track among the thick underwood, which flourished on it's margin. It was a spot which a poet would have hung over with rapture, a painter would have loved to delineate on his canvas, and which an angel might have lingered to gaze upon, and thought it Eden.

"So intent was I in admiring this natural garden, that it was some time before I perceived a cottage which reared it's thatched roof under the shade of a venerable chesnut, that spread it's giant arms far abroad on every side. I wished to know who were the inhabitants of this terrestrial paradise; and therefore approached, and knocked gently at the door; the threshold of which was embroidered by honeysuckles, that twined around it, and kissed the projecting cottage roof. It was opened by an elderly woman, the very personification of hospitality. She invited me to enter; which I did, after apologizing for my intrusion, and offering my long walk as an excuse for resting myself. I had now an opportunity of observing the interior of the dwelling, or at least of the part where I sat. It was a small low apartment, but the white-washed walls, the clean windows, whose small panes of glass were partly obscured by the shrubs which climbed around them, and the bright rows of wellpolished pot-lids, and other culinary utensils, gave an air of neatness and industry to the room. Near the fireplace sat an old man, seemingly much oppressed by age and pain, but his

welcome was hearty though unpolished, and his furrowed cheeks and snowy locks gave him a reverend and pleasing appearance. My hostess seemed about fifty; her features were rather of a melancholy cast; a clean cap restrained her grey hair, which time had much thinned; and from her waist hung a pincushion and pair of scissars. She placed refreshment before me, of which I partook most heartily, and answered my questions with civility, and even politeness. After recompensing the aged couple for my entertainment, I at length departed, with many thanks and renewed apologies for my intrusion.

"From a farmer in the neighbourhood I enquired concerning this family; and he told me, that they had once a son, a most promising young man, their chief, and indeed their only delight. He had been pressed on board a ship of war, and as he had never been since heard of, it was conjectured that he had either fallen in some engagement, or been lost in the waves. He shewed me also a likeness of him, which he had received from himself, a great friendship having existed between them: but as I soon after went to a distant part of the kingdom, I speedily forgot the cottage and it's inhabitants.

"I exchanged the calm repose of the country for the bustle of a seaport town, and the songs of birds for the creaking of cordage and the melody of the boatswain's whistle. One day, turning hastily round the corner of a street, I was struck by the figure of a man who sought relief from his distress in the charity of his fellowcreatures, but his wan countenance and extended arm alone pleaded for him with mute eloquence. I thought I knew the features, but vainly endeavoured to recollect where; and giving him a few halfpence, passed

on.

His idea still haunted me, and I returned in the afternoon resolving to enquire who he was, but he was not there. The next day, however, I was more successful: he thanked me for my assistance the day before; his name, he told me, was S. It struck me in a moment. It was the son of my old cottagers. I took him home to my lodgings; and telling him what I knew respecting his family, desired to hear from him the remainder of his history. It is a narrative

of little but misfortunes,' he answered; but if the relation will in any way please you, Sir, I owe it to your kindness not to refuse.'

The night when I was pressed, I was as one stupified. The next day, however, I became composed. I prevailed on a friend who had obtained leave to see me to carry a message to a young woman whom I was attached to, and to desire her, if possible, to visit me before my departure. He did so, and to the last moment I cherished the hope of seeing her. But it was in vain ;-she did not come, and our vessel set sail. The neglect from one I had so tenderly loved was more cutting than all the rest. I believed her unfaithful; I deemed myself cast off by all mankind, and left unfriended and alone to traverse over boundless seas. My dejection of spirits, together with the new life I led, destroyed my health, and I lay for weeks a prey to a raging fever; during which I was nursed with the greatest care and attention by a young man with whom I had contracted a friendship on board the ship in which I was. He seemed ill suited to the life he had chosen, for he was extremely delicate; but he had something in his countenance which reminded me of Elinor; and this, perhaps, attracted me to him, for I still loved her, notwithstanding her neglect under his care, I at length recovered, and was allowed to venture upon the deck to inhale the refreshing breeze.

"Here I gazed, with a strange and awful feeling of astonishment, on the immense plain of waters, from which I was separated only by a few boards, and listened with pleasure to the rushing of the waves by the side of the vessel as she cut through the deep. How great, I thought, must be the ingenuity of that being, who can pass in safety over this mighty expanse. But I was shortly to see that ingenuity exerted for purposes, and in a manner from which the soul revolts.

"One night, when the crew had retired to their hammocks, I had been talking to my friend; I had dropped a few words of anger against my neglectful Elinor. He sighed deeply, and once I thought he was weeping; but I attributed it to his compassion. On a sudden, we were alarmed by

a loud call from the mast head, and a bustling confusion on the deck. I sprang up, for I was then almost recovered from my illness, and went to enquire into the cause of the tumult. One of the sailors pointed out to me a dusky object which floated on the waves at a considerable distance; and told me, that it was an Algerine vessel which was bearing down upon us. The uproar had by this time subsided, and every one was called to his post. My sensations at this instant were almost indescribable. In a few moments, I should be called upon to face death, and perhaps to deprive others of existence. This interval, as it were, between life and death, was filled with an awful feeling it was not fear, nor hope, but a confused mixture of hoth, which was augmented and sustained by the silence which prevailed, for the first shot dissipated all feelings but those of energy and activity. The hostile vessel now approached, hove to, and summoned us to surrender. A broadside was the reply, and in a moment all was smoke, fire, and destruction. The enemy were much superior to us in strength, and at length they boarded

us.

it

We fought hand to hand; would be in vain to describe the horrors of the scene, they can only be imagined by those who have witnessed them. Their captain happened to come near me. I aimed a blow at him with all my force; which he parried, and my sword broke short in my hand. The barbarian lifted his sword to strike me, when my friend, whom I had not seen during the action, sprang between us, and received the stroke which was aimed for me. I caught him as he fell; but that dying shriek, that last expiring glance, that soft pressure, told me all. was Elinor! noble, generous, selfdevoted being, who, while I was upbraiding her with neglect, had braved all the dangers of a sea life to follow me, to nurse me, to watch me, and last, worst, and bitterest,-to die for me!

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I have little else to relate. We were taken,--and afterwards retaken by an American; by whom we were well treated, and carried to New York, where we had some clothes and other necessaries given us. Some of my companions remained there; but I wished to return to my native

country. I worked for some time as a joiner, a trade to which I had once been a little accustomed in England; and at length gained sufficient to pay for my passage to England. I was landed here without money or friends. My fatigue hád also worsened my health, which I had not perfectly recovered, so that I was unable to gain any thing by labour. I had, therefore, subsisted on charity; in soliciting which, I was so fortunate as to meet with you, sir, who have so kindly relieved me.'

"Here his narrative concluded; and I will hasten to the conclusion of mine. I conveyed him home, restored him to his parents, and was amply rewarded with their boundless gratitude. He is now in an eligible situation, which does not require any great bodily exertion; he is comfortable; and, could he forget the unhappy fate of his Elinor, he might be happy."

The Black Rainbow;

OR, THE DEATH OF CHARLES THE BAD.

So bad a death argues a monstrous life.

HIGH above Pampeluna's towers,

WU. H. A.

SHAKSPEARE.

Where CHARLES at life's last hour was lying,
The moon's pale radiance fell in showers,
As if to light from hence the dying:

And court them to a world on high,

That endless pleasures are adorning ;

Where hope is lost in ecstacy,

And life is one eternal morning.
But joys like these, were not design'd
To bless the Sinner's evil mind;

Though such delights can never part

From the pure Christian's faithful heart:

And Charles was one,-whom history's pages

Will blush to own in after ages:

For France hath fix'd upon his name

Her blot of everlasting shame,

THE BAD!-then fearful might he view,
The hour of death which onward drew,
And find no comfort in the sight

Of that most calm and heavenly night.

"Twas in such blessed moonlight scene,
Lured by an hour so fair and smiling;
Two courtiers trod the garden green,

Their sad and weary thoughts beguiling:
Ere morning broke on tower and plain,
And sleeping nature waked again;
Causing the night more swift to roll,
In sweet exchange of soul with soul.
And much they spake of France's state,
And of their dying Sovereign's fate;
And conn'd the names and actions o'er,
Of Kings, who centuries before
Had slept in dull Oblivion's clay,
And left the sceptres of their sway
To those, whose vice or virtue shone
The curse or blessing of the Throne.
While, upon Memory's wing, thus fast
Glided the Monarchs of the past.
Each in a low and and gloomier tone
Spake sadly of their dying one,

And fix'd his tear-beclouded eyes
Upon the blessed moonlight skies;
For all have some who hold them dear,
The worst may claim one pitying tear;
And e'en the vilest hearts have found
A soul to which their love was bound!

"Twas said, that night was fair to view;
And such a heaven of streaming blue,
Hath seldom o'er th'eternal space

Spread out a robe so soft so pale; It was as if noon's golden face

Shone brightly through night's loveliest veil! There was not in the azure air,

Aught that appear'd like mist or cloud;
But morn with midnight blended there
The brightest hues and lightest shroud.
One vast eternal screen o'er all
Seem'd from the skies to earth to fall,
Casting a dim transparency
While shining bright and riding high,
The glowing stars held on their way;
Pale Luna shed her light around,
As calm as if in sleep profound,
The lovely planet lay.

And where the scene in distance blent
It's features with the firmament,
A fleecy lustre seem'd to dress
The purple mountain's loneliness:
O'erhanging with a veil of white,
That half display'd, half hid from sight,
The limits of the landscape bright.
On beauty soonest will the eye
A blemish or a stain descry;

In summer skies are soonest seen

The clouds that shade their light serene;

The fairest spots are foulest made,
When horrors their delights pervade :
And the young earth in beauty built,
Seem'd loathsome when accursed by guilt.
So fared it then. As gazing o'er

That scene which spread those towers before
The Courtiers saw, extended wide,
A broad black arch from side to side
Of the vast space extended glide;
Spanning the heavens, and all below,
Within it's dark and fearful bow.

The elder Courtier then, who trod

In silence his young comrade near,
At length broke forth,-" O mighty God!
Look, GARCIAS, what a sight is here!
By every saint that o'er us treads
The azure pavement of the sky.
What is that sign in heaven, that spreads
It's awful sable arch on high?

By such a form, we sure might scan
The rainbow's covenant-seal with man ;

But there, no beauteous tints are blending,
No colours in each other ending
And not a ray of this fair night
Hath gemm'd it with a spark of light;
But all is fearful, black, and strange,
Without one tint it's hue to change!"

Then spake the younger Courtier, who
Look'd on in fear, with stifled breath,-
"If old Tradition's tales be true,
Yon apparition speaks of death!
Of Royal Death!-When Monarchs die,
And down to dusky tombs are hurl'd,
Their fates are spoke by carth and sky,
And read and mourn'd by half the world;
And this thou know'st may we believe,
And the dark sign as truth receive
At such an hour as this:

Yon fearful, sable midnight bow,
Our King's descent may well foreshow;
To the grave's dark abyss;

For ne'er did Time and Fate unite
To form so wild and fair a sight

Of gloom and brilliance, darkness, light,
A scene of pleasure and affright;
Of all, and aught save bliss.

Unhappy Charles !"—the gale swept by,
And they who to the wild winds wake,
Well know that oft some fearful cry
Seems with their hollow sounds to break.
Unhappy Charles !-that gale replied,

Then came a shriek like demons howling ; When in their hour of fiendish pride,

O'er some new victim they are scowling!
Each Courtier sprang with beating heart,
And quick drawn breath, and sudden start,
Nearer the palace, whence there came,
Bright flashes of unearthly flame!
As if the Sprite who rules the air
Had come with all his terrors there,
To bear his royal living prey
To realms of darkness far away.

But yet those courtiers could not stand
Like some who form the lordly band,
And leave their King alone to lie
In Death's most dark extremity;
And not one former friend be near,
His parting soul to soothe and cheer ;
And thus, though terror bound them fast,
On to the palace quick they pass'd.

Within the dreary chamber shone

No livid fires, no flames were streaming; One pallid watch-light's ray alone

Was through the dark apartment gleaming.

And not one echo of that sound

Was heard throughout the palace round;

It was as if the awful cry

Did with those lurid meteors dic,

And all attendants silence kept,
As if the King for ever slept:

Save where the sound arose,

Of the low prayer, and sullen toll
That hymn'd to rest the parting soul,
That it's last hours might peaceful roll,
And calm in death repose.

"Tis known to all, that men have said,
In death the heart may best be read;
For then is torn the veil away

That life wraps round our mortal clay;

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