you to share the fortune of an idler, or a beggar!" and he held up in the moonlight her own token purse, through the silken meshes of which she could see that it was filled with gold and bank notes. Somewhat affected by the recollections which this memento excited, she could but wave it away with her hand; and the next moment she saw it skimming through the air, and a faint plunge in the distant lake told the fate of Malcom's fortune.

Marion shuddered at the sound, and her eye instinctively, but hopelessly, looked round for aid, as she retreated to the side of the rock.

"Will you be mine?" said Malcom, approaching. “Will you be mine in beggary, since not in wealth?" No answer.

"Will you be mine, then, in death, since not in life?" and, seizing her in his arms, he rushed to the edge of the cliff. A wild scream, silenced in the midst, startled the most distant echoes of the lake, as the tragedy swept to its catastrophe.

Marion, with the instinct of despair, grasped as they passed, the narrow rock, since called the Lady's Grip; and such force did the convulsive energies of life impart to her delicate hands, that they were able to stay for a moment the course of the maniac.

Malcom looked up. Her eyes were bent upon the far bright heaven; and the moonlight shone with awful lustre upon her face-that temple of beauty, which he was about to desecrate and overthrow. His hands, at the sight, relaxed gradually their hold; the fury of his eyes melted into grief and despair; and, without a single effort to save himself, he staggered and fell over the rock.

During the few moments that Marion hung in silence and solitude, by the cliff, the thought flashed across her brain that she was in the midst of some frightful dream; but a sudden plunge in the distant waters below recalled her to the more terrible reality. She turned down her head at the sound, and looked into the abyss. The only token of what had taken place was the moonlight broken into millions of fragments, in one minute point of the surface: but, the next moment, a human face appeared in the midst; and Malcom seemed to look up once more to his lost heaven, before he sank and disappeared for ever. Overpowered with horror, she loosed her hold of the rock, and was with difficulty saved from what seem

inevitable destruction, by a shepherd, whom her cry had reached, upon the summit of the precipicc.

LAMENT OF A FORSAKEN LOVER.

BY THE REV. THOMAS DALE.

I wander through th' accustomed grove,
I muse beside the wonted stream;
That smile of mute yet answering love,
Was it a dream?

Or have I heard thy plighted vow,
And fondly pledg'd me ONLY thine,
While yet thou art another's now,
And never canst be mine?

I hate that cool sequestered grove;
What are its wasted sweets to me?
I hear no more the voice of love;
I hear not thee.

I hate that smooth and smiling river,
Which not less gently murmurs by,
Than ere the hope, now lost for ever,
Began to droop and die.

Yet wherefore should I coldly turn

From all that soothed or charmed before?

This cannot cause the flame to burn

That burns no more.

Yet O! could reason conquer grief—
Could time assuage a fixed regret,
So long I had not sought relief,
Nor should I seek it yet.

But art thou happy? Canst thou be,
Though fortune smiles upon thy lot?
Is there no lingering thought of me?
Is all forgot?

Could 1 read this upon thy brow,

I think I should no more repine,
That thou art vowed another's now,
And never canst be mine!

THE LADY OF JAPAN.

The Russian Captain Ricord gives the following description of a Japanese lady, in his " Voyage to the Coast of Japan:" On reaching the cabin door, she wished to take off her straw shoes; but as there were neither mats nor carpets, I explained to her by signs that this singular mark of politeness might be dispensed with. On entering the cabin, she placed both hands on her head, with the palms outwards, and saluted us by bending the body very low. I conducted her to a chair, and Kachi requested her to sit down. Fortunately for this unexpected visitor, there was on board our vessel a young and handsome woman, the wife of a surgeon's mate. The Japanese lady seemed highly pleased on being introduced to her, and they soon formed an intimacy. Our countrywoman endeavoured to entertain the foreigner with what the women of all countries delight in; she showed her her trinkets. Our visitor behaved with all the ease of a woman of fashion: she examined the ornaments with great curiosity, and expressed her admiration by an agreeable smile. But the fair complexion of our countrywoman seemed most of all to attract her attention. She passed her hands over her face, as though she suspected it had been painted, and, with a smile, exclaimed, Yoee; yoee!" which signifies "good." I observed that our visitor was somewhat vain of her new ornaments, and I held a looking-glass before her, that she might see how they became her. The Russian lady placed herself immediately behind her, in order to show her the difference of their complexions. She immediately pushed the glass aside, and, good-humouredly, said, varee, varee!"" not good." She herself might have been called handsome: her face was of the oval form, her features regular, and her little mouth, when open, disclosed a set of shining black lacquered teeth. Her black eye-brows, which had the appearance of having been pencilled, overarched a pair of sparkling dark eyes, which were by no means deeply seated. Her hair was black, and rolled up in the form of a turban, without any ornament except a few small tortoiseshell combs. She was about the middle size, and elegantly formed. Her dress consisted of six wadded silk garments, similar to our night gowns, each fastened round the lower part of the waist by a separate band, and drawn close together from

the girdle downwards: they were all different colors, and the upper one was black: her articulation was slow, and her voice soft: her countenance was expressive and interesting, and she was altogether calculated to make a very agreeable impression. She could not be more than eighteen. We entertained her with fine green tea and sweetmeats, of which she ate and drank moderately. On taking leave I made her some presents, with which she appeared much pleased. I hinted to our countryman that she should embrace her. When the Japanese observed what was intended, she ran into her arms, and kissed her, with a smile.

ODE TO CONTEMPLATION.

SCENE-The Grounds of Clovelly, Devonshire.

Respectfully inscribed to Lady Hamlyn Williams, whose exquisite taste is displayed in this sublime and beautiful domain.

BY CLIO RICKMAN.

Come contemplation!-nymph divine!
And melancholy bring with thee;
Fill my rapt soul, my thoughts refine,
And at thy shrine I'll bow the knee.

What though no scenes of future bliss appear,
And hope has ceased her solace to impart ;
Yet retrospection shall the bosom cheer,

And memory fill with costly gloom the heart.

Come now, whilst evening spreads her influence wide,
And towering clouds fit cross the moon's pale ray;
While whirling winds lift high the roaring tide
And curling waves their snowy heads display.

Hail glooms! congenial to my heart,
A thousand raptures you impart,

Which purling rils, and Sol's meridian ray,
To Sorrow's children ne'er convey.

Here, where Clovelly's cliffs terrific rise,

Whose towering woods o'ertop their brows sublime :
Whose scenes enchanting, and whose genial skies,
Our bards have sung in their luxuriant rhyme.

Here let me wander,-largely here
Enjoy the bold, the wild, the drear,
And sigh o'er days far gone;
O'er those I loved, and who loved me,
Now hurl'd to that oblivious sea,
To which all travel on.

Dearer to me are Memory's scenes,
And these secluded haunts;
Than all that bustling life now means
Where noisy Folly flaunts.

Hail Solitude!-the vulgar Great!
And vulgar Little, too!
The sordid, proud, and all I hate,
I fly to fly to you!

Hail to Clovelly's grand retreat,
Where all majestic beauties meet,
Far from the world away;
Here Nature's prospects rise sublime,
Here, far from envy, pride, and crime,
Rapt in high thoughts I stray;
My soul with feelings all divine embued,
Here court thee, Contemplation! Child of Solitude!

LOVE'S GIFTS.

The chain I gave was fair to view,
The lute I added sweet in sound;
The heart that offered both was true,
And ill deserved the fate it found:
These gifts were charm'd with secret spell,
Thy truth in absence to divine;
And they have done their duty well-
Alas! they could not teach thee thine.