ever before seen it. He was very angry and much displeased. "At that moment, that black devil, Julian, entered. Full did I note the dark gleam of triumph which shone upon his features, as he marked the flush upon my father's brow, and saw the cause of his deep displeasure. But too truly did he see that the hour of vengeance for my crossing him, that day, was nigh. Veiling his features under such a semblance as the dark spirit himself might be supposed to use when thinking most surely to deceive, he observed, "Dear uncle, do not condemn Edward for his belief; perhaps he thinks the King ought not to be served, although he grants his protection and kindness to the colonies-or perchance he believes the rebels have just cause for resentment, and even rebellion, in the slight tax he would place upon them for such kindness and protection; perhaps they are unwilling" "The king's kindness! the king's protection! said I, interrupting his cursed heresies, "what do you mean, sir! Call you that protection, which allows the colonies to be borne to the earth with taxes, not so very slight as you would fain believe; and that too, without the privilege of being heard upon a subject of such moment? call you that protection which gives the meanest British soldier the privilege of insulting, nay, more, of robbing the noblest and best in the colonies, without a chance of their obtaining justice in a court held in England, where witnesses cannot be brought forward, and where circumstances cannot be truly known; not only this, but even were these things known, think you that an American, a rebel, would obtain protection or justice even then, deeply as the government is prejudiced against us? The king's kindness! what was it? Is it kindness to be obliged to purchase European manufactures at such a price as government, or speculating individuals may see fit to name for us? And for what? Is there a single thing which binds us to England, but the ties of consanguinity? no! was it kindness for the king to wish to make slaves of the best and most loyal subjects he ever had? do you call these things "kindness and protection?" But it is the principle that we are fighting for! it is the principle! do you know what that means? do you know what principle is, sir ?" Surely, Edward," returned Julian, with a malignant smile," if the king had many such orators as you, I fear he would turn rebel himself. But perhaps after all," continued he, glancing at my father's significant look," but perhaps there is a better cause for your feeling than the justice of itself." "What is it, Julian?" said my father, "out with it; these things must be looked to." "Uncle, I will tell you. Edward told me but yesterday that, were it not for sparing your feelings, he would join the standard of the rebels, and"Damned hell-hound, thou liest! Father, I said not so; I thought not so-" "Hold, Edward," interrupted my father, "Julian, is this so speak, in God's name?" "May I be struck dead this moment if it is not true! and moreover," continued he with increasing bitterness, "he is engaged to that young slavish Anna Tudor, the rebel's daughter, to whom he has promised that he will join her brother in arms against the King!" God of heaven, why was thy vengeance sleeping then! "James! James!" continued Edward, as his dark eyes flashed with the lightnings of passion, "I could have borne the falsehood of that perjured one-I could have borne the gleam of triumphant malice which shot from his dark visage-all, all I could have borne and passed with contempt, but idly hear his biting sarcasm hurled at adefenceless being-at one to whom I was bound by the holiest ties of earth-Oh! it was too much to bear! Then was it that I first felt that all-engrossing desire of vengeance which has ever since been gnawing at my heart. I gazed at him a moment, while madness seemed to sear my brain like molten leadthe next he sunk before me, pale, quivering and helpless. My father endeavored to catch my arm, but he was too late. I looked down upon the breathless form before me. There lay he, who but a moment before had stood up with every lineament bespeaking triumphant malice. There was rapture then in gazing upon the grovelling slave. I put my foot upon his breast, and then I grew calm, terribly calm! I roused from the reverie into which I had fallen by the voice of my father, who, recovered from the astonishment into which such a scene had at first thrown him, rushed forward to the prostrate Julian, anger and sorrow struggling on his features, and exclaimed, "Oh! Edward, you have killed him! You have slain my beloved Julian!" With frantic eagerness he placed his hands upon his breast. A silence only interrupted by the groans of my father, succeeded. At length starting up with joy beaming from his tearful eye, he exclaimed," he lives! he lives!" Again bending over him, and again using every means in his power, he at length succeeded in restoring animation to the recumbent Julian. With the end of a long, quivering gasp, he at length opened his eyes, and said, “ Dear uncle, I—I think I-am not much-hurt.” That was the signal for the bursting forth of the storm which had for years been gathering at my father's heart, and which needed only an occasion like the present, to gush forth in a torrent of bitterness and anger. Rushing to the door and unclosing it, he turned to me with looks of hate, and exclaiming with vehemence, "go! renegade: spirit of blackness unworthy of a father's love-go and quit my sight. I cast you off forever!"-and then he-he-cursed me!" The voice of the hapless narrator fell from its usual full, rich tone, and the conclusion of the sentence was uttered in almost a whisper, yet so deep and full-toned, that its awfulness sinote like an ice bolt upon the heart. But the exertion was too great, and had it not been for the shielding arın of James, he would have fallen to the earth. The van of the British army hove in sight, led by the brave but bloody Tarlton, certain of an easy victory over an enemy of but little more than half its own number, he came on, dreaming on the honors of yet another triumph, added to the list of his famous deeds of daring, The American detachment was drawn up in three lines. The intrepid Morgan disdaining to fly from an enemy, although the odds were greatly against him-and, doubtful, even had he wished to retreat, if he could escape an officer so famed as Tarlton for the swiftness of his movements, determined to stand and hazard the unequal conflict. And rightly did he judge of the courage of his brave soldiers. Motionless as statues, but with countenances bespeaking hearts settled upon some firin resolve, they inarked the coming of that long line of bristling bayonets and gleaming swords. They saw the crimson folds of the British standard waving in the light breeze, and a dark smile crossed their features as they thought upon the glory of trampling to the dust the pride of its lion ensign. But there was one among those noble spirits who seemed lost to all the natural excitement consequent upon such a moment. He gazed with a listless apathy upon the approaching foe, while his thoughts seemed far away, seeking some green island upon the sea of memory, where his sorrowing heart could fix itself for a moment, content with even a faint trace of peace and happiness-as the famishing inmates of the long boat, upon the interminable sea will gaze upon the distant ship afar off upon the bounding waves, with hearts swelling with hope and thankfulness, as with bellying sails she dances along the waters towards them "like a thing of life"-and as the unnatural gleam of the mariner's sunken eye is growing wilder and wilder with the gushing up of hope, the "proud swan of the sea," swells around upon her course and wings her flight far, far away across the dark blue ocean, leaving upon the heart the mockings of a bleak and desolate despair-thus it was with Edward. Not one recollection of past days but was fraught with sorrow which made the soul recoil at feelings of anguish they left behind. With a mind formed for all the loftier aspirations of our nature-with a heart calculated for an exquisite perception of all the noble sympathies of mankind, or for the still sharper stings of misfortune," and all the ills that flesh is heir to,"-it need not be wondered that the very keenness and acuteness of his sensibilities should have ruptured a heart so finely strung. in by foes, waving his sword on high, while a smile of dark joy mantled o'er his pale features, as on one who has at length found the only place on earth to hold communion with the eager yearnings of his spirit, he rushed into the melee of the fight. Then burst forth those deep seated energies of his soul, before unfelt, before unwielded. Brandishing aloft his sword, he cried in a voice resembling the echos of the thunder more than aught human-"On! countrymen, to the conflict !-down with the British mastiffs! On! charge on!" His tall form seemed to dilate as the contest grew deeper and sternerand traversing the field like a winged angel of destruction, now here, now there, cheering his men to duty, his gleaming, thirsting steel circled through the air, marking its course with a long line of blood and carnage. But if the excitement had given unwonted strength to his arm before, who shall describe the more than Herculean energy of his slight form, as bounding to the right of the line to support the weary soldiers, where the contest was fiercest, his eye fell upon the dark form of Julian Monteith, foaming like a chafed lion, and bringing death to all within the reach of his muscular arm. I was near to Edward, Charles, and never shall I forget the glance of his eyes, blazing like meteors, with the malicious longings of vengeance. But, oh! never shall I forget the long-drawn yell of delight which burst from him then! It rings in my ears now! so hellish-devil-like, it breathed the very spirit of a fiend. With the bound of a tiger, Edward sprung upon him-" Death now to one of us," said he, in a low stern tone, as their swords crossed and their eyes met. Julian smiled as he heard the challenge, with the consciousness of superior strength and address. They closed-Edward with all the eagerness of hate and vengeance,-and Julian with all the cool and wary energy of a practised swordsman. Blow on blow was struck and parried with the swiftness of light, thrust after thrust given with all the strength of the desperate combattants, was passed aside harmless. But such a contest could not last long. The carelessness of Edward soon gave an opening which the quick eye of Julian failed not to profit by to the utmost. With a well timed feint he drove the sword from the hand of Edward. Aiming a deadly thrust at him, he exclaimed, "Die, fool, at last!" The sharp weap Reader! curse not with the smile of unbelief the existence of such a being as Edward Seymour. If you are one of those whose hearts are cold and frozen with the fellowship ofthe world, if one of those who are dead to all the ennobling feelings of man, one whose only delight, and whose only "angel on entered his breast, but missed his heart,aspirings" reach but to the sordid calculation of he staggered back a few steps, and a sickening your gold-if you are one of those, pass by this tale-faintness came over him with the gushing out of you understand it not, you feel it not! Without waiting a moment, the cavalry of which the army of the enemy was chiefly composed, with loud shouts rushed to the charge. his warm blood. steel was sheathed within it to the very hilt. Julian was preparing to repeat the blow-but Edward recovering, leaped lightly aside, and exclaimed, as Julian came toward him with the impetus of the thrust-"thy life for mine," The militia which composed the first line of the and at the same time drawing a dagger from his Americans gave way before the torrent of the cav-belt, he buried the keen weapon in his heart. alry, which passed on unimpeded to the second-Thrice did his breast sound hollow as the crushing the infantry in which Edward was placed. Motionless and statue-like as ever, he stood unawakened by the noise of contest and the retreating forms of the militia-and he stirred not until the cavalry, which drove on like a thunder-bolt, had caused the infantry of his line to recoil before the sternness of the shock. Then casting aside at once the apathy which had marked him, at finding himself hemmed Again did that terrific yell echo o'er the field as Edward planted his heel upon the reeking corpse of Julian Monteith. But his life was ebbing fast. His fine form fell back at last upon that cold earth, and the damp chill sweat of death stood upon his brow. Then, oh! then, in that last hour gushed forth the agony which years had heaped upon his heart.] He wept, and with the kindly influence of tears his noble heart swelled with the higher, holier feelings of his nature-feelings so long, so bitterly estranged. Oh! it is a consolation dear to one's heart to find that the soul of man, whatever may have been its path on earth, will to the last retain some trace of its glorious destiny! The last hour which bids farewell to earth with all its barrenness, will cause it to show some sparks which scintillates with heavenly brightness, as if to mark the handy work of its divine creator. to return. But Edward raised his head upon his arm. The golden sunlight fell once more upon his handsome countenance, now rendered doubly beautiful by the holy calm which overspread it—a calm as deep as his own now mirrored thoughts. Opening his eyes for the last time on earth, he murmured, "Low as the quivering wind-touched string At eve upon the willow hung; The fresh breeze gaily revelling Amid his raven locks, sped on, " Bearing the echo of his song." Bright beings of heaven! sainted spirits of mine own, my own Anna, I come! Heavenly Father, receive my suffering spirit-" calmly and joyously the heavy eyelids closed over those dark eyes forever! His head fell back, pillowed upon the earth, his noble heart cold and forever stilled! One last, long shout of "victory!" burst from the American ranks, and then all was silent upon the field of death! Reader! misfortunes are stern-but sterner moralists. Are you a father or a mother? beware how the leaden hand of unkindness falls upon the sensitive spirit of a child! beware how the cankerings of love estranged, breathe upon the finely wrought feelings of the spring time of life! Believe one who feels the speaking truth of his remarks, when he tells you, deep seated and hidden as the effects of a child may be within the breast-little as the common intercourse of the world may serve to bring them forth-they are ever there-the feelings of gratitude and adoration, and when the time comes for their exercise, they will gush forth deep, glowing and unchangeable. Life. WHAT'S the illusion of the world at best, That occupies man's thought unto his grave? "Tis but a flash upon the ocean's breast, Seen but a moment on the boundless wave, Or like an exile struggling in his dream- THE MAGICIAN. A PARISIAN TALE. Translated from La Revue Francaise LOUIS MORAND, a young man about the age of culated to inspire confidence, and Louis trembled as nineteen, was sent by his father to Paris, many cen-he inquired for Master Guillaume. The dwarf imturies ago, for the purpose of completing his stu- mediately conducted him into an immense half, dies. It is said his venerable parent soon after where the magician was reading by the light of a died in consequence of grief and mortification oc- large fire. The aspect of the old man was veneracasioned by the bad conduct of his son. Whatever ble; he wore a long beard and his hoary locks might have been the cause, the young man derived were partly covered with a purple cap. The rest but little advantage from his death: his patrimony of his dress was such as was usually worn by the proved to be a very small one, and consisted only sages and learned men of that period. of a small sum of money and a chest filled with old papers and decayed books. Several years afterwards, Louis one evening resolved to examine the papers, contained in the chest, in the hopes of discovering something valuable. After burning a great many, which he deemed of no use he at last found a packet of letters all apparently written by the same person. He was about to throw them into the fire, when a few words which accidentally met his eye, gave him a desire of knowing their contents, and he at length determined to preserve with care, the whole of the letters which were found to be from an ancient friend, who seemed to have been much attached to his deceased father. 66 Since," wrote he, "you wish me to reserve for your son the wealth which I can and would willingly bestow upon you, send him to me when he shall have become twenty-five years of age. His character will then be fixed. If his principles and disposition are then good, I will take charge of his future fortunes; but if otherwise, I will be very cautious how I furnish him with wealth which will not only give him the means of gratifying his vicious or wicked inclinations, but which he might pervert to the injury of others." When Louis had announced his name, the old man embraced him affectionately, and spoke of his deceased father with tears in his eyes. After yielding to this effusion of affection, he directed dinner to be served. The repast was exquisite; the wines in particular were delicious. Louis, exhausted by his long and toilsome journey, ate and drank heartily. The old man ate only rice and drank nothing but water, and Louis thought that he two or three times saw his lip curled with a slight smile on seeing him repeatedly empty and replenish his glass: the remembrance of it was, however, so vague and indistinct that he was not certain whether it was really so or not. My son," said Master Guillaume, "your father was my dearest friend. His simple desires and contempt of the things of this world prevented him, during his life, from profitting by my friendship. If you are not a degenerate son of a virtuous man, you shall, as he desired, inherit what he declined, and this inheritance is not one to be despised, as you will hereafter learn. Let us descend to my laboratory: we will there converse upon the subject, and I will ascertain what is proper to be done for you." They descended a dark and narrow stairs: more than an hour was spent in the descent, and they then entered a hall covered with rich purple hangings; the lamps emitted a bright red light, and the whole appearance of this subterranean chamber was so extraordinary that the head of Louis was almost completely turned. Louis recognized the name of the writer as that of a man who was generally supposed to be a skilful magician. He laughed at the protection which was thus offered to him and threw the letters aside. The small sum of money which his father had left him was soon dissipated in the pursuit of vice and folly: his creditors became clamorous and a prison seem- When they had seated themselves on chairs coved about to be the end of his career. In this extre-ered with red velvet, the magician rang a golden mity, his thoughts reverted to the letters of the ma-bell, the cord of which was concealed in a fold of gician, and at length he resolved, as the last resort, to pay a visit to the man, who seemed to have both the power and disposition to extricate him from his difficulties. He commenced his journey, and after a long and difficult search, arrived at the residence of the magician, which was situated on the side of a hill, in the midst of a dark and dreary forest. On knocking at the gate, it was opened by a little black slave, whose appearance startled him, for at that period persons were not accustomed to the sight of negroes. The little body of the slave was entirely covered with gold and precious stones, and his small size and fantastic dress induced Louis to believe he was a gnome, one of those genii who are supposed to guard the treasures concealed in the bowels of the earth. The countenance of the dwarf was not cal the hangings, and the dwarf immediately stood before them. Louis was filled with terror at the sudden appearance of this little being, who, in less than two seconds, had traversed a space which it had taken more than an hour to pass over. The slave stood silently awaiting the orders of his master. " Zano," said the magician, "I have forgotten one important thing: it may be late before we leave this place: prepare two partridges for our supper, one for each of us; Louis Morand will sup with me: but do not put them to the fire until I shall direct you." Zano disappeared. After a long conversation in which Master Guillaume interrogated Louis respecting his manner of life, his occupations and amusements, he said- My son, in consideration of the friendship which I had for your father, and which continues even beyond the grave, I will grant can grant you but one gift. Reflect then maturely before you make your request. This is all that I am permitted to do for you." But remember I Master Guillaume as usual, filled the casket without saying a word; but he cast on Louis a penetrating and contemptuous glance which made him tremble, and when, on departing, Louis offered his hand, the magician hastily placed his own beneath the folds of his garment. 'Master,” replied Louis, "I have frequently in quired what is the most useful thing in life, and am so firmly convinced that the greatest good and the most fruitful source of enjoyment is unbounded wealth, that I do not hesitate to request you to give me that." Louis departed, pale and agitated. It was evident that his crime was not a secret to the magician; he had refused to press the offered hand of an assassin. Fear filled the bosom of the young man : he had every thing to dread; he feared not only that he would be suddenly deprived of his immense wealth but that he might be brought to an ignoHow-minious death for the crime he had committed. More than three months had elapsed since his last visit to the magician. The whole of this time was passed in the utmost uneasiness. To drown his apprehensions, he plunged still deeper into vice and dissipation; but in vain; his fears still harassed him and rendered even life a burden. At length a horrible idea occurred to him; it occupied his thoughts continually both day and night. He revolved it in his mind, until at last all difficulties vanished, all dangers disappeared. "It shall be as you desire," said the old man; "but yet, let me warn you of the evils which wealth may bring upon you. Men are like ships which are most easily sunk when heavily laden. ever virtuous a man may believe himself to be, he should avoid the possession of that which may put his virtue to the test. The sheep would perhaps, be as ferocious as the wolf, if he had teeth as strong and sharp as those of his enemy." The old man added many other wise reflections and remarks, which were however unheeded by Louis, who was all the time thinking of the manner in which he should employ his future riches, and of the pleasures which they would furnish him. Master Guillaume finished his long discourse with the words with which he began; "It shall be as you desire." "Here is a little casket filled with gold. When ever it is empty, come to me and I will fill it. will never inquire how you dispose of the money; but come to me only when the casket is empty; more frequent visits will only unnecessarily disturb me in those occupations which have now become dear to me. It will not be necessary for you to hoard up any of your wealth, for if I should die before you, the casket will be filled of itself as soon as its contents have been expended. I The magician gave him much other good advice and Louis departed. Louis went very often to replenish his casket. One day he thought that he observed a singular smile on the countenance of the magician, which immediately awakened an apprehension that the old man might at some moment deprive him of the wealth to which he had now become accustomed: he therefore determined to lay aside half the contents of the casket, each time it was filled, and thus gradually amass a treasure which would render him independent of the caprice or anger of Master Guillaume. His life was passed in gaming and dissipation of every kind. He denied himself no pleasure which wealth could procure; and the immense sums of money which he lavishly expended drew around him a crowd of obsequious dependents who spared no pains to confirm him in all his vicious courses. At length from vices he proceeded to crimes, and in a fit of furious jealousy stabbed to the heart one of his most intimate companions, whom he had for that purpose enticed into the deepest recesses of the forest. His crime was unknown to all; but he yet dreaded the presence of the magician. This time he waited until the casket was entirely empty before he could resolve to visit him. At the gate he still hesitated and was about to return; but when he reflected that the sum of money which he had begun to amass was nearly expended, and that his crime was probably unknown to the magician, he summoned all his resolution to his aid and entered. When he had made every preparation necessary for the execution of his project, he proceeded to the residence of the magician. Zano as usual opened the gate, and Louis immediately rushed upon the dwarf, enveloped his head in his mantle to stifle his cries, and delivered him to his servants who bore him away: then followed by his accomplices, with a drawn dagger in his hand, he entered the chamber of the old man, whom they immediately seized and bound. "Louis Morand," exclaimed the magician, "what do you require of me?" No one made answer. The servants retired, and when Louis was left alone with the old man, he said, Deliver to me the treasures which you possess." No," replied Master Guillaume, " you have made too bad a use of the wealth that I have already lavished upon you. I will no longer furnish food to nourish your vices. With what I have already given you have become criminal: and if you possessed the treasures that I conceal, your crimes and wicked propensities would increase with the means of gratifying them. In the meantime the attendants of Louis had been searching the mansion from the cellars to the roof. The search was fruitless, and no treasures could be found. They then bore off the old man and shut him in a prison which Louis had caused to be constructed. It was a high tower, entirely covered within with plates of polished iron. Seven narrow windows admitted light during the day: at this hour the moon gleamed faintly between the iron bars. Master Guillaume threw himself u Tupon the floor of his dungeon and slept profoundly. When he awoke it was day. He looked around him. He could scarcely believe his eyes. There remained only six windows in the tower, and with his raised hand he could almost touch the ceiling, which the day before had been at a great height above him. He found near him bread and water, of which he cheerfully ate and drank. Towards evening a voice was heard, and Louis Morand appeared at one of the windows. He em |