beautiful sight-that young couple riding forth in the overflow of their happiness to enjoy the pleasant beauty of the early morning-the graceful and timid horsemanship of the lady, contrasting with the gallant bearing of the young lord, who gallopped by her side, his handsome horse caracoling in the abundance of his animal spirit, as his rider now dashed his spurs into his side, then with a sudden check, causing him to rear and plunge, for the mere pleasure of conquering in the presence of his lady-love. When content with this display, he struck into a short canter, and together they dashed into the forest. The antlered deer sprang through the thickets at the sound of the horse's hoofs, and the singing birds fluttered in the branches over-head as their glad voices disturbed their melody. Onward and onward they went, with hearts leaping at each bound of their steeds, their cheeks flushed and their glowing hands tight upon the reins. Swifter grew the speed of the hunter, nimbly flew the legs of the palfrey. The forest was cleared, and they reached the river's brink, weary with excess of the most pleasant excitement in the universe. They loitered away an hour on the banks of the stream gathering flowers, talking merrily, and looking as only such young creatures can look when the first flush of happiness is upon them. Again they mounted and rode gaily towards the castle, he with his doublet crowded full of the flowers he had gathered for his lady's bower, and she with a cheek faintly flushed like the first opening of a young rose, and a brilliancy lighting her sweet eyes that spoke of a heart revelling in the excess of its own enjoyment,

Who, to have seen that married boy and girl on their return to their stately mansion, after throwing off the shackles of station, and riding, smiling or walking together, two of the happiest children in existence, would have supposed that he in a few months would meet a violent death, with the bravery of a hero and the fortitude of a martyr, shaming the very strength of manhood with his firmness, and bowing his young head to the block with the resignation of a saint? Truly the waters of affliction are bitter, but their troubled waves convert into heroes, martyrs and saints those who bathe in them and faint not. And the Lady Jane Gray, the young, the wise and the beautiful; who to have watched her playful smile and graceful motion, as she rode slowly by the side of the brave youth, could have supposed that she, so very gentle in her loveliness, was doomed, by the strength of soul slumbering within her, to be held up to after generations as a most perfect pattern of female fortitude and christian virtue ?-that she was to go down to posterity, a creature enshrined in her own virtues, a redeeming page in the history of a great Woman, woman!-truly she is a miracle. Place her amid flowers, foster her as a tender plant, and she is a thing of fancy, waywardness, and sometimes of folly annoyed by a dew-drop, fretted by the touch of a butterfly's wing, ready to faint at the rustle of a beetle. The zephyrs are too rough, the showers too heavy, and she is overpowered by the perfume of a rosebud. But let real calamity come, rouse her affections, enkindle the fires of her heart, and mark her then. How her heart

nation ?

strengthens itself-bow strong is her purpose. Place her in the heat of battle, give her a child, a bird, any. thing she loves or pities, to protect, and see her as in a related instance, raising her white arms as a shield, and as her own blood crimsons her upturned forehead, praying for life to protect the helpless. Transplant her into the dark places of the earth, awaken her energies to action, and her breath becomes a healing, her presence a blessing; she disputes, inch by inch, the stride of the stalking pestilence, when man, the strong and the brave, shrinks away pale and affrighted. Misfortune daunts her not; she wears away a life of silent endurance, or goes forward to the scaffold with less timidity than to her bridal In prosperity she is a bud full of imprisoned odors, waiting but for the winds of adversity to scatthem abroad-pure gold, valuable but untried in the furnace. In short, woman is a miracle, a mystery; and greatest of all is she of whom I write.

As the young couple drew near the castle, Dudley recognized a numerous band of retainers in the court; and he knew by their livery that they belonged to bis father, the Duke of Northumberland, whose large black war-steed was being led about the court by a groom. Dudley drew close to his wife's palfrey, and with a mimicing attempt at dignity, rode onward to the portal, saying, "Now, my fair lady, let us prepare ourselves for a homily on etiquette, for most grievously shall we have offended in my father's opinion by riding without a retinue." Jane answered by a faint smile only, and dismounted in the court. The strange domestics drew respectfully back to give them a passage into the great hall, where stood the Duke of Northumberland with several lords of the court in deep mourning. The Lady Jane on observing the sable vestments of the group, turned deadly pale, and leaned heavily on the arm of her lord as he advanced to welcome his guests. Northumberland, on seeing them enter, stepped forward with courtly grace to receive their greeting, and to Jane's astonishment, bent his knee reverently before her as to a sovereign. Jane drew back almost in consternation, and stood breathlessly staring at the bending duke. At length she exclaimed, "Why this undue homage, my lord, and oh, why these sables?"

"The sables," replied Northumberland, "are badges of mourning for Edward, our late king. The homage is offered in humble duty to his successor."

"But that successor am not I, and wherefore is this homage done at the feet of one who should in duty kneel at thine ?"

"These lords," said the duke, rising and pointing to the group of courtiers, "will inform you that our late king, in his care for the true religion and the welfare of his kingdom, has appointed the Lady Jane Grey as his successor."

My lord, my lord, you will not consent to this usurpation in your wife," cried the agitated lady grasping the arm of her husband, who stood bewildered by her side.

"In good truth I will not while the princess of the blood live," answered the generous youth, drawing her trembling hand gently from his arm.

The duke knitted his dark brows, and bent his pierc- || guards file solemnly along, and listened to the low ruming eyes angrily on his son, who answered it with a look of defiance struggling with habitual reverence.

bling of coming wheels. They passed in sight, and there, in an open cart, Northumberland was going to "It is somewhat strange," said the duke, turning execution. With his pale hands folded over his black with a bland smile to the other lords, “that the crown || robe, and his dark hair threaded with silver lying back of England must go begging for temples to rest upon. || from his high temples, the old nobleman stood uncoverI pray your lordships pardon me, if I seek a private con- ed in the humble vehicle. Not a muscle of his pale ference with my fair daughter, and leave you to the features stirred; his lips were compressed, and the conhospitality of my crown-hating son here;" then draw-centrated force of a strong spirit burned in his eyes. ing one of the lords aside, he whispered in his ear, and When he came opposite the window he raised his head, led the Lady Jane from the hall. She cast back an and seeing his children, stretched his hands towards anxious look on her husband. The courtiers were them as in blessing. With a choking cry, Dudley crowding around him, and as he bent his head to the threw his arms wildly upward, and fell like a dead thing whispers of the duke's friend, the first budding of am- upon the floor. Their prison afforded no restorative, bition was seen in the crimson glow burning in his and the hapless Lady Jane could only sit down beside cheek. With a fainting heart his wife followed her him, lift his head again to her bosom and deluge it with father-in-law. Entreaties, promises and tears prevailed her tears, as she watched for some sign of returning over deep-rooted principle and natural prudence. With life. When Dudley opened his eyes it was feebly like royal honors, but aching hearts, the young victims were an infant, and his pale hand hung helplessly over her that day conducted to London. shoulder. Though very weak, he felt soothed and comforted; her heart was heaving faintly under his aching temples, and her sweet voice was whispering of resignation and religion. Still and silently he lay, exhausted with the fierce storm of agony that had swept its hurricane over him. As a gentle nurse she quieted him with the sweetness of her voice and the soft pressure of her lips; then she drew a bible from her pocket and read the word of God to him-its promises and its comfortings. All day was she thus employed, and at night-fall they were together on their knees, with clasped hands and upturned faces, pouring out their troubled souls before Jehovah. It was not in vain; God visited them.

The morning sun was struggling through the dense atmosphere of London, and piercing his yellow beams through the deep windows of a prison-room in which Dudley and his young wife were confined, after the friends of Mary had hurled them from their precarious || seat on the throne—a seat which had yielded them only anxiety and regret. Several days had they passed, since that event, in strict confinement, and the spirits of the youth had sunk into despondency. With his face buried in his hands he was seated by a low wooden table, the points of his gay dress untied, and his bright hair falling uncombed over his shoulders. His white forehead, formerly so open and smooth, was now shrunken and collapsed with internal agony. His breath came choakingly, while now and then a laboring groan struggled through his shut lips.

-row.

Opposite, sat his victim wife, her large soft eyes fixed in deep sorrow upon his working features, and her pale lips quivering slightly with suppressed agony at witnessing his utter prostration. Every thing bespoke that it was for him, rather than for horself, she grieved. There was no neglect in her dress. The lustrous hair was as smooth, and the dark robe as neatly put on, as in her days of happiness; and though she was very || pale, it was rather from sympathy than from selfish sorShe arose, passed round the table, and for a moment stood behind the suffering youth, pressing her white hand to her eyes; when she dropped it on his shoulder, the fingers were wet with tears. Softly she placed her arm about his neck, and drawing his head to her bosom pressed a kiss upon his forehead, and murmured of comfort. Dudley dropped his hands and turned his face to her shoulder with a less painful groan. Just then the tower-bell sent forth a sudden sound like the bellowing of a moody spirit, and the noise of coming feet arose from the pavement below the window. With a fierce cry, Dudley sprang from the arms of his wife and rushed to the window. His whole body trembled as in an ague fit, and clinging to the frame as if a gulf was beneath him, he watched the

Months had passed, their death-warrants had gone forth, and with a refinement of cruelty, the young husband and wife were separated before the day of execution. Dudley's summons was conveyed to him first; but his weakness had passed away: there was a strong power within that had converted the youth into that best of all heroes, a Christian. His lips were red, his eye clear, and his voice unbroken, when he made it an only request that he might see his wife before he died. The request was conveyed to her. A gleam of joy shot across her mild features at the thought of seeing that loved ore again on earth; but it passed away, and in a calm voice she said, "Tell my lord that my heart is nerved for death, and that an interview might shake the firmness of both; tell him to be of good cheer, and in another hour we shall meet in heaven for ever;" and again she returned to prayer and meditation.

The message was conveyed to Dudley. "It is well," he said, "it is but a moment and we part no more!" and the brave youth, strong in religious faith, went to the execution. Again that hoarse bell was swinging heavily in the air, and the dismal roll of wheels passed by. Jane sprang to her feet and rushed a few steps forward, then checked herself, and with her hands pressed hard against her heart, listened to the receding tread of the multitude. For half an hour she stood like a thing of breathing marble, without moving a muscle or stirring a finger. The bell gave out a solemn

male writers both of England and America, far superior to Mrs. || ting. They are so true to nature that, for the moment, we canGore. But she has power of observation which gathers of things as they exist, and converts them to her own purposes with an effect and beauty which more original minds often fail to accomplish.-Wiley & Putnam.

not doubt the reality of the characters she describes. We took up the book as a temporary respite from the pressing cares of business, and did not rise from our seat until we had finished the volume.-G. & C. Carvill.

OLIVER TWIST: Lea & Blanchard-This long looked for work is at last completed and published in two neat volumes. Whatever might have been the reputation acquired by "Boz," as the

THE FAR WEST: Harper & Brothers.-There is an appearance of affectation running through these volumes which we particularly dislike; in order to avoid the egotistical I, our author denominates himself" The Traveller." Now, in our opin-author of the "Pickwick Papers," it is now doubly enhanced ion, the method of expression which is most common and natu- by the appearance of the present work. The same publishers ral, is decidedly in the best taste; persons betray a much have, also, sent us the sixth part of another highly amusing greater share of vanity in singularity than in adopting a gene-work, entitled "Sketches by Boz." ral rule. With this exception, the volumes have a decided ex- PICCIOLA; OR THE CAPTIVITY CAPTIVE: Lea & Blanchard.— cellence; the whole interest, of course, depends on descriptions This is a translation from a French work, that passed through of scenery, diversified by the isolated adventures which the four editions within a month of its first publication. Picciola is traveller, even in a thinly inhabited portion of country, may be the most striking and original tale that has appeared in our counsupposed to meet with. His descriptions of the prairies are both try for a long time. Lovely and unpresuming as the heroine is original and vivid, and as a whole, the two volumes, though by represented, she has a claim to the protection of the wise and no means the superior production which the author seems to good, and we hazard the doubt, whether the most hard-hearted rank them in his preface, are calculated for general popularity. of critics could set his foot upon the neck of Picciola, without PRIVATE JOURNAL OF AARON BURR, Edited by Matthew L. experiencing an inward pang of remorse.- Wiley & Putnam. Davis: Harper & Brothers.-This Journal is comprised in two ALTHEA VERNON: Lea & Blanchard.-If Miss Leslie draws octavo volumes, of about 500 pages each. Those who expect her characters from real life, she is certainly more fortunate in to find in it many important historical or even biographical discovering originals than we have ever happened to be. During facts, will be doomed to disappointment. Although the time a short sojourn at Rockaway, last summer, we found the hotel of Aaron Burr's residence in Europe was one of great political crowded with all kinds of people; but no persons such as cominterest and moment, we look in vain to the pages of this jour-pose the majority of Miss Leslie's characters came within our nal for any statistical information or any philosophical reviews observation. There were counts, it is true, English travellers on the then existing state of affairs. It is written in a playful, and rich speculators, with three or four quiet, harmless-looking pleasing style, and is almost entirely taken up with trifling per- scions; all, with one or two exceptions, very common-place or sonal details, illustrating the life rather of Aaron Burr, the gen- very agreeable gentlemen and gentlewomen. Neither in the tleman of pleasure, than that of Aaron Burr, the politican and ball-room or at the table did we witness any thing half so ludieager votary of ambition. There is a degree of concealment crous and vulgar as some of the characters which figure in Miss and disguise about this private journal, which strikingly illus-Leslie's story. Yet though we cannot believe them drawn from trates the character of its author; and, even in his familiar letters to his almost idolized daughter, Theodosia, there is oftentimes a blind method of expression adopted, in order that she only might be able to discover his meaning.

These volumes will be eagerly purchased and read; for every thing tending to throw any new light upon this extraordinary man is of intense interest to the community. From his memoirs, which have been for some time before the public, and this his private journal, which is now just published, it would appear that he was possessed of a kind and amiable disposition; || and it may be that posterity will not consider him that unnatural monster which his own generation have united in representing him.

real life, at least, real life at the Marine Pavillion, they are a most amusing set of personages we ever came across.

CHARCOAL SKETCHES: Carey & Hart.-The sale of the former edition of Joe Neal's fine production has been, we understand from a private source, very extensive. This alone proves the avidity with which it must have been sought after. No less than four thousand copies have passed through the press in a short period.—Wiley & Putnam.

HOME AS FOUND, by J. Fennimore Cooper: Lea & Blanchard. This is a sequel to Homeward Bound, a novel by the same author, and will be read with curiosity by all who have perused the latter work.-G. & C. Carvill.

EVENINGS AT HOME; or the Juvenile Budget-Here we LIFE OF CHRIST, in the words of the Evangelist-a complete have another of those valuable productions adapted to the use harmony of the Gospel History of our Saviour.-Harper and of the rising generation, issued from the press of those indefatiBrothers have issued this volume in a faultless style, illustrated gable publishers, Harper & Brothers. Parents are not aware with thirty fine engravings by Adams. As a present for young of the heavy debt they owe these gentlemen for the efforts they persons, no work could be chosen with such advantage as this. make, at least, once a year, in behalf of their children. By the The compiler in the preface says, "the narrative of the life of publication of such works as the "Life of Christ," and "EveChrist was undertaken with the design of placing in the hands nings at Home," a desire for reading is inculcated into the of young persons a complete and connected record of the events bosom of every child, and thereby, that natural restlessnes of which distinguished our Lord's history on earth, in the words disposition is quieted-the child becomes delighted and inteof inspiration, free from the confuson which more or less arises rested with his book-the tasks of the school are no longer lookin the mind of every reader in perusing the unconnected, anded upon as a grievance, until, finally the mind is imbued with a in some instances, apparently conflicting accounts of the different Evangelists."

love of reading it is impossible to eradicate. The volume is, as

its title imports, most interesting. We have been much edified MARY RAYMOND, another of Mrs. Gore's productions, pub-in the perusal, and as a work of general and varied reading, lished by Lea & Blanchard, can scarcely be made subject to would recommend it strongly to the attention of every parent. more than the same comments that we have already made on FOUR YEARS IN PARAGUAY: Carey & Hart.-These volumes the Heir of Selwood. It contains several interesting tales, of contain a rapid sketch of the political and social elements out which the one that gives its title to the book is the longest of which the South American republics have been framed. The and the best. It is indeed a story of thrilling interest, contain-history of the Jesuits in Paraguay will be found to contain many ing a moral which young ladies who feel inclined to marry for curious details, and to exhibit to those not deeply read in Jesuan establishment, would do well to study before they take the itical lore, a very singular state of society.-Wiley & Putnam. desperate leap which lost poor Mary Raymond her life.-G. &

C. Carvill

MY SON'S BOOK, is a neat little volume, just published by F. W. Bradley & Co. The principles which are most requisite

COUNTRY STORIES, by Miss Mitford: Lea & Blanchard for the guldance of a young man entering into the broad arena These stories are characterized by that combination of sim- of life, are laid down with precision, and those which should plicity, earnestness and quiet humor which renders all the pro- govern him in the courtesies of life, are also expounded, with ductions of this fascinating authoress so pleasing and interes-reference to his intercourse with the different classes of society.

A ROMANCE.

COMPOSED, AND POLITELY PRESENTED TO THE LADIES' COMPANION, BY MRS. GIBBS.

ALLEGRETTO.

: 6 bo

8va Flute.

Come with me to yonder

hills, Where lightly dance each merry elf, There the cup of life gay pleasure fills, And thy guide shall

In halls where