EVENING SONG OF THE TYROLESE PEASANTS*. BY MRS. HEMANS. (From the Forget Me Not, for 1828.) Come to the Sun-set Tree! The day is past and gone; The twilight star to Heaven, And the summer-dew to flowers, By the cool soft evening hours. Sweet is the hour of rest! Pleasant the wind's low sigh, And the turf whereon we lie; When the burden and the heat And kindly voices greet The tired one at his door. Come to the Sun-set Tree! The day is past and gone; And the reaper's work is done. Yes: tuneful is the sound That dwells in whispering boughs; And the gale that fans our brows. But rest, more sweet and still In the world beyond the grave. There shall no tempest blow, No scorching noon-tide heat; And we lift onr trusting eyes, To the sabbath of our God. Come to the Sun-set Tree! The day is past and gone; The loved hour of repose is striking, Let us come to the Sun-set Tree.'-See Captain Skerer's interesting Notes and Reflections during a Ramble in Germany." BIRTHS IN OCTOBER. Truro, Mrs. C. Sholl of a son Mrs. Ledgey of a daughter Mrs. Vigues of a daughter Mrs. Richards of a son Portleaven, Mrs. Cudlip of a daughter Dover the lady of Capt W. Boxer R. N. of a son Kenwyn, Mrs. T. Ivey of a daughter Halvose, Mrs. James Trevenen of a son. Bodmin, Mrs. Oke of a son Truro, wife of the Rev. G. C. Cruickshanks of a son Tregentle, Mrs Edgcumbe of a son Mrs. E. Paul of a daughter MARRIAGES IN OCTOBER. Penzance, Mr. T. Childs to Miss Bryant Madron, Mr. T. Ford to Miss E. Nicholls DEATHS IN OCTOBER. Penzance, Mrs. J. Moore aged 73 St. Austle Mr. J. Guy Mr. T Hancock Redruth, Mr. T. Towan aged 54. IN NOVEMBER. Falmouth, Mr. Hawkings of the Royal Oak Printed and Published by J. PHILP, Falmouth, and sold by most Booksellers in the County. THE STORY OF EDWIN, THE BY S. C. HALL. (From the Amulet, for 1828.) The outline of the following story is to be found in the Ecclesiastical History of the Venerable Bede, and in the works of various other British Historians. oitterest threats of vengeance against any who protected him; and for a long period the fugitive had only met with powerless friends, or enemies who sought, under the garb of friendship, to betray him. At length he was induced to seek an asylum at the court of Redwald, the Uffinga of East Anglia. mingled prayers to the living God, with sacrifices to idols, under the same roof,-even by this act he enabled his subjects to draw comparisions and to form conclusions. The light of our blessed religion was therefore, gradually, but surely, spreading over the kingdom of East Anglia. Into this State, Christianity had EDWIN, the rightful king of Deira, been recently introduced; but it had had been, from his childhood, a fugi- to struggle with the darkness of pagantive and an outcast from his throne and ism, and was strenuously opposed by his country. Year after year, he had the people, whose ideas of glory, and wandered with the few friends that whose warlike habits were so much at neither want nor danger could rend variance with the mild principles from him, seeking safety and protec- which the missionaries from Rome to tion in every British kingdom but his Britain then taught. The Uffinga, own. The influence of his sister's however, was so far convinced of their husband-the usurper of his hereditary truth and excellence, as to foster their rights-was universally felt and ac- growth; and, although he set up a knowledged; and whoever was hold Christian altar in a temple dedicated enough to afford him even a temporary to the deities of his country, and shelter, found a powerful enemy in his kinsman Adelfrid, who, having dispossessed him of his crown, sought by every means to deprive him of his life. His wanderings-for he was often a dweller in the woods and on the mountains; the hardships he had encountered; the perpetual watchings by which alone he preserved his life; the warlike habits he had acquired, by the frequent skirmishes of his party with the hirelings of his enemy, as well as with the various bands of freebooters that infested the country, had made him careless of danger, hardy of frame, intelligent, energetic and brave; while By his conciliating manners, his his occasional residence in the courts military skill and courage, and his of many British monarchs, and the graceful address, he succeeded in knowledge of his royal birth, and high gaining the love and esteem of the claims, had given to his manners a de- monarch and his queen, with that of gree of refinement, and to his mind a the chief officers of their court. consciousness of superiority, which at his hopes and prospects were soon once spoke the descendant of a race of again clouded; for, within a short kings. His fine form, his gentle de- time, ambassadors from Deira arrived meanour, and his misfortunes had at the court of the Uffinga intreating, gained him many friends the tyrant that as a deadly enemy to king Adelfrid by whom he had been deposed, there- sojourned and dwelt familiarly with fore, felt and knew him to be all his company, in the kingdom of dangerous. East Anglia, he might be delivered up to the embassy, or put to death. The message was accompanied by rich gifts of silver and gold, and high offers of service and amity to the Uffinga,-but they prevailed not : Alarmed at the exaggerated accounts which at times reached him, of the prowess of the young prince, and dreading the influence of his name and of his cause, Adelfrid denounced the O VOL. 2. Edwin was welcomed with sincerity by the Uffinga to the East Anglian court; a pledge of safety was given him; apartments were assigned him in the palace; and the prince was happy in receiving a home from his wretched and dangerous wa derings. But and were dismissed. A second time, the ambassadors appeared at the court of Redwald, and brought with them bribes still more tempting, and again they were rejected. After a while, the ambassadors arrived a third time, bringing with them still higher offers of wealth,-and then they bade the East Anglian monarch decide between the gold and the sword of the powerful sovereign of Deira and Bernicia. "Then bid him farewell for meand the blessings of the gods of his country and of mine be with him. Would he had more spirit or more strength.-But bid him farewell for me.' 'Nay, nay, prince," said Oswald; "listen to me. The tyrant threatens destruction to our country, till not a breathing soul be left, nor one stone above another within its boundariesunless-unless-the Uffinga deliver you up to his rage,-or-or--destroy you himself within these very walls." The resolute and bold countenance of Edwin changed, and its colourless expression spoke only of despair, as he faintly exclaimed-" and your king promised this?" “To this he hath pledged himself.” Edwin seated himself on the ground, covered his face with his hands, and appeared in bitter and hopeless agony; Edwin, gazing from the lattice of his apartment, beheld the ambassadors from his enemy enter the courtyard of his host--he lingered, in full confidence that they would be dismissed as they came. The hours passed heavily, and still the messengers continued in the audience room of the king, for he hesitated to return an answer which he dreaded would be his destruction, and after a contest with honour and generosity, his fears yield--but still it was the agony of a man ed; he knew the power and the savage nature of Adelfrid, and he retained his ambassadors until he had formed the resolution, either to deliver up or to put to death the exiled and persecuted prince. Edwin was sitting in his chamber, sadly musing on the uncertainty of his fate, which left him so utterly at the will and mercy of others, and dreading the effect of the prolonged stay of his enemies,-when, at night-fall, a dear friend, an East Anglian erle, entered and stood before him with a melancholy countenance. Well, Oswald," said Edwin, "what is to be my fate? Will your sovereign be my protector, or must I be again a houseless wanderer among the wilds, where the wolf and the deer will be my companions by night and by day?" Oswald made no answer. "Your looks bode ill tidings" continued Edwin; "but I have borne adversity too long to be corrupted by the sunshine that has gladdened my heart even in your happy court. Speak out, as a brave man should speak to one who is no coward.” "The king is terrified by the threats of the tyrant whose bribes he rejected with scorn." After a pause of a few minutes, he raised his head, and said "Is it for this, then, that I have for eighteen long years, since my kingly father died, been an outcast and a wanderer-enduring difficulties that men might shudder but to name, and dangers that sicken but to think upon? to perish now, when life hath most promise, and death most terror! Must 1 go down to the dust with no other fame than that of having chased the wolf from his forest lair, and driven the eagle for her mountain nest? must I die? "Not so, Prince of Deira," said Oswald, "not so,-a noble steed is at the gate, and your trusty friends are with him,-before morning, you will be far, far from our kingdom, where Uffinga and your vile kinsman will as vainly seek you, as when of old the blood-bounds of the tyrant sought you in wood and upon hill." Edwin pressed his hand to his brow, and bent his head till it touched his bosom; while from the tremulous motion of his lips, it was evident some severe struggle was passing within. He continued in this attitude for a few moments, while his friend stood gazing upon him with anxiety and impatience, for he knew that a trivial delay might THE SELECTOR. render his exertions fruitless, and seal the death-doom of the man he regarded with more than brotherly affecuon. "Come, come, Edwin," he exclaimed, look forth towards the sky, and see how its darkness favours you; -haste, haste!" Edwin started from the posture of deep thought, folded his arms, advanced his right foot, which he planted firmly on the ground, raised his head, and looked like one whose proud glance might well win a kingdom. "No, Oswald "he answered hastily, "I will not go-I will not fly like a craven: and if I must die, it is better that I fall by king Redwald's mandate, than by the hand of a base serf, or the yet baser hireling of a bloody tyrant, and where indeed should i fly?"-he continued, as his voice fell, and as he altered his position to one less bold but more thoughtful-"where should I fly now-I, who have so long wandered through this isle of Britain, herding among savage beasts, or men with more cruelty and less courage— shunned like one who brought with him a pestilence, or sheltered only till convenience could send the leper forth? Of whom shall I seek shelter, when the dread of my vile kinsman chills even the heart of your good and mighty king? no Oswald-the blessing of a poor, homeless, wretched prince be with you,-But I go not forth." "You will at least find protection where you have so often found it," said Oswald; the mountains and the forests where you have so often dwelt will be your refuge; and men are not there to slight or to betray you." "Oswald," answered Edwin, "you little know what for so many years I have suffered and felt. By night and by day to be exposed to open foes, or to secret treachery,-to feel famine in its keenest sense, by seeing my few faithful followers endure it patiently for me, to behold the wolves gather round the tree, in which I rested, and to dread sleep least I might fall from its branches and be their prey-to endure the storm and the lightning, houseless-to know that my native land groaned under the sway of an oppressor, and waking or dreaming, "But think," replied his friend, Oswald, urge me no more-besides''-said Edwin, as his countenance brightened, and the colour returned to his cheek," the Uffinga hath my pledge that I do not leave his court,-he has been my friend, and by doubting him and breaking my promise, I should only blacken the name of one whose only crime has Osheretofore been his misfortune. wald, I go not hence." Still the young ele continued to press upon the prince the policy and the necessity of at once leaving the court, and trusting to flight for safety. When he saw that all his arguments were vain; "Well then," said he, "I go to Alas! I know that glean farther intelligence of the Uffinga's intentions. they are fixed-sadly and shamefully fixed but nevertheless, I go. Meet me, Prince Edwin, at midnight, near the ancient and hallowed oak, whose branches shadow the outer palace gate. There is no watch set. From that gate you will find easy pass ge.-Well, well," he continued as Edwin shook his head, "meet me there whatever be your determination; and I leave you to reflect." Oswald departed, and the unhappy prince was left alone. He paced his dreary chamber for nearly two hours, reflecting on his now almost certain fate. But his resolution remained unchanged; he was determined that no consideration should induce him to forfeit the pledge he had given to his royal host; he felt that the certainty of death was preferable to the daily and hourly anticipation of it; and he knew that if Redwald were unable or unwilling to protect him, he had no hope but that of passing a miserable existence among the woods and the wilds, surrounded on all sides by Jangers which must sooner or later be his destruction. It wanted but an hour of midnight, when he wrapped his mantle round him, and went forth. The night was dark and stormy. He walked beneath the shadows of the ancient tree, whose branches spread over a vast extent of ground, and whose topmost boughs were lost in the dark clouds, and seated himself on the large stone at the base of its trunk, to wait the coming of his friend. In the palace of his host, to which his attention was naturally drawn, all was silent as the grave; behind him was the outer gate, unguarded by a single sentinel; as he looked towards it, he saw the light of some solitary star, the extended plain, and thought that he could distinguish the sounds of familiar voices He knew that his sworn friends were within a short distance that escape was easy, that pursuit was impossible until he was far beyond i's reach, and he was strongly tempted to fly from his doubtful friends and certain enemies; once more to trust his safety to the forests and the mountains. The wind passing through the tree, bearing down its branches, that rose again with a low moaning sound, and shaking from their leaves the heavy dro, s of rain; the silence and the gloom that pervaded all around; and, above all, the uncertainty of his fite, made a momentary dread come over him, and was increased when he recollected the various legendary tales that superstition had connected with the spot. The old tree had been consecrated by the ancient Druids, and was still considered as an object of veneration. It was believed, that around its base, the departed priests were permitted to assemble, and to repeat their sacrifices. And few could pass it, even in day-light, without pausing to pay some tribute of respect to those whom they imagined its guardians. Edwin was brave, and he had too often confronted danger in many forms to dread it under any; but the new belief that had found its way into Redwald's court, where it had to struggle with the horrors and the bitterest opposition of paganism, had left his mind in that uncertain statethat "halting between two opinions," which made him now shudder when reflection was forced upon him. He rose and paced round the tree, glancing occasionally through the gate over the wide plain on which he knew was freedom, and endeavouring to recollect the few observations he had heard from the strangers who had brought those new doctrines into Britain. He had been again seated for some minutes, while a variety of thoughts crowded upon him, when, suddenly raising his head, he beheld before him a strange figure, whose garb of perfect white was powerfully contrasted with the surrounding darkness. Edwin rose, shook off the rain drops from his mantle, and unconsciously laid his hand upon his sword.-But when he saw the mild and dignified attitude of his visitor, he resumed his seat, and with a mixed feeling of superstitious awe, and of anger at being intruded upon at such a moment, gazed upon him in silence. The stranger stood for a few moments, but spoke no word; at length he said, "Wherefore, at this dark hour of the midnight, wherefore, when other men are within, and in their deep sleep; wherefore sit ye alone and sorrowful upon the stone abroad, watching?" "And what have you to do with me?" asked Edwin, "and if I pass the night within doors or without, what have you to do therewith!" "Think not," replied the stranger, "but that I know the cause of your heaviness, and why you watch here, in this gloomy place, at this solitary hour. For I know, certainly, who you be, and why you he sad and sorrowful, and therefore know I well the danger you dread. Shall I tell him," he continued in a low moaning voice, as if he communed with himself rather than addressed a hearer; "Shall I tell him of one who was sought by his enemy in the wilderness of Engedi, and |