PHILADELPHIA PORT FOLIO: A WEEKLY JOURNAL the hill) alive, and convey him afterwards to the king would not fire again, but ordered that in case any bear was still alive, the dogs should be set upon it, and for that purpose they were unloosed. But as the dogs did not see the bears, or know where the den was, they ran backwards and forwards within the skall-plats, until I was ordered to go to the den to see how matters stood. The bears permitted me to approach within four or five paces, when three of them sprang out, the fourth remaining dead on the spot. Two of those that sprang out had both been shot through the body, and the third was quite untouched. The two that were wounded were taken by the dogs; but the third, which was not wounded, was driven on to his majesty's skreen, where Colonel Hierta and the other gentlemen of the suite received permission to go and shoot him, and which they accordingly did. His majesty, in the mean time, proceeded to the parsonage at Tuna, highly pleased at this extraordinary sport, and at the gratification he experienced in getting three shots at bears in their den, as it was the first time the king had had an opportunity of shooting at any bear in his winter quarters, and which also never happened again. When the hunt was over, his majesty proceeded the next day to Stockholm, and I received permission to shoot the four bears which I had reported to him were ringed in Westmanland, and which I also did three days afterwards on my journey home. In the wood called Har, near Nötbo, there lay a capital bear ringed; but as this bear, when the hunt was about half driven, ran on the people, and severely wounded four or five men, the king ordered that all the dogs which amounted to about sixty, should be let loose upon him, which was accordingly done, when he at once killed six or seven of them; but he was afterwards mastered by the others, so that I was enabled to give him a couple of thrusts through the body with my hanger, which, together with his life, put an end to all his fury and ferocity. The dogs, in the time of King Frederick, were, to judge by the representation of those animals at Drottningholm, of a very superior kind to what one generally sees in Sweden at the present day. They appear to have been large and powerful brutes, and are represented with spiked collars about their necks, in actual conflict with the bear. These dogs, however, were said, if I remember right, to have come from Germany or Russia. Among other anecdotes relating to Frederick the First, that came to my knowledge, the following, which was obligingly fur-will, no doubt, venture to unbind him.' As nished to me by Captain Ehrenlund, of the the harmony between the Swedish and GerSwedish army, may not be altogether uninteresting: I give it in that gentleman's own words. man huntsmen was never particularly good, In the year 1737, a skall was organized near Hillerström replied, as he went up to the bear, the village of Hallsta, in the parish of Tierp, in him, when the Swedes could take him.' Hil'The Germans might surely be able to loosen the province of Upland, at which a large bear lerström leisurely cut, with his hunting-knife, was found and driven out of his retreat, but did the cords with which the bear was bound-all not advance to the king; neither had it escaped except one, which remained round the neck; through the line of huntsinen. The king, displeased at not getting a shot, reprimanded his but as he still lay quiet, Hillerström gave him anger, or royal huntsman, Schönberg, who hind quarters; upon which the bear sprang a smart lash with his hunting-whip, on the conducted the hunt, and insisted that no bear up, with a terrible growl, and was shot by the had been roused. In vain did Schönberg al-king ten or twelve paces from the sledge on lege that several persons had seen the bear; and that he supposed the same was concealed Schönberg with the rifle he had used. At the which he had lain. The king then presented in a hole, under a hill, which lay within the skall-plats; and he requested permission to moment the bear sprang out of the sledge, make another attempt with his men to find several of the German huntsmen ran from him. The king, who did not accede to this their places to a little building in the vicinity; proposal, set off, evidently displeased, to the but all the Swedes stood immovable. To prove residence of the clergyman in the parish of that the apprehension shown by the Germans Heidunge, situated in Westmanland, about was unfounded, the king ordered two pigeons thirty miles from Tierp, in order that he might, the other white, which should be thrown up to be taken from the dove-cot, the one blue, on the following day, shoot a female bear with by a German huntsman; at the same time two young ones, which were in the neighbour- naming which of them should be shot. The hood. and his majesty, being anxious to witness a the lion, ordered them to be brought into rencontre between one of these animals and contact with each other. In the lion's den the bear was introduced. On the lion, howthere were two apartments, into one of which him posted in a corner; when, going up to ever, getting access to that animal, he found him, he gave him a slight rap with his paw, as posed. The bear, not liking this kind of saluif to see of what materials his visiter was comThis made the lion angry; when 'with one tation, growled, and endeavoured to parry it. fell swoop,' with his paw, as the story goes, he laid the bear dead at his feet. It is, of course, idle to make a comparison between the powers of the lion and the bear from the anecdote I have just related. I think, however, that there are bears to be found in the annihilating at a single blow." African deserts would find some difficulty in Scandinavian forests, that even the lord of the of bear-hunting, even of the present day. In The following are more modern anecdotes tract by a cordon of persons, and driving all 1790, a skall (that is, the surrounding of a the animals, by closing in, to a centre), conducted in the usual way, led to this incident: "One man, an old soldier, who was attached from his knowledge of the country, he thought to the hallet, or stationary division of the skall, thought proper to place himself in advance of the rest in a narrow defile, through which, it probable the bear would pass. He was right tempted to discharge his piece; but, owing to in his conjecture, for the animal soon afterwards made his appearance, and faced directly towards him On this he levelled and atdamp, and the gun missed fire. The bear was the morning being wet, the priming had got now close upon him, though it is probable, that still have escaped; but, instead of adopting if he had stepped to the one side, he might muzzle of his gun, to which, however, no baythis prudent course, he attempted to drive the enraged brute. This attack the bear parried wresting the gun out of the hands of the man, onet was attached, down the throat of the with the skill of a fencing-master; when, after at his antagonist, who was lying motionless he quickly laid him prostrate. All might still have ended well; for the bear, after smelling left him almost unhurt. The animal then and holding his breath, as if he had been dead, with his paws. The poor soldier, however, went to the gun, which was only at two or three feet distance, and began to overhaul it who had brought his musket to the skall contrary to the orders of his officers, and knowing punished, on seeing the apparent jeopardy in hand, and laid hold of one end of it, the bear that if it was injured he should be severely having it fast by the other. On observing which it was placed, quietly stretched out his when, seizing him with his teeth by the back quence was alive, the bear again attacked him; this movement, and that the man in consemerely hung to the forehead by a strip of skin. of the head, as he was lying with his face to from the nape of the neck upwards, so that it the ground, he tore off the whole of his scalp, The poor fellow, who knew that his safety depended upon his remaining motionless, kept doing him much further injury, laid himself as quiet as he was able; and the bear, without along his body. Whilst this was going forward, many of the people, and Captain Eurehappened, hastened towards the spot, and adnius among the rest, suspecting what had vanced within twelve or fifteen paces of th scene of action; here they found the bear stil event, askederg, much mortified at this huntsman, who cast up both at the same in- lying upon the body of the unfortunate man one of his assistants, a determined man of the name of Hillerström, how the king could be convinced that the bear was still remaining in the skall-plats? To which the latter answered, 'If I can get made to night, at Ulfors forge, some iron shears (Jern-Saxar), and am furnished with money to pay some strong fellows whom I know, I shall endeavour to take stant, exclaimed, The blue, your majesty;' The king, of whom I have just narrated so sometimes the animal was occupying himself in licking the blood from his bare skull, and at the bear, he might in his last agonies still fa others in eyeing the people:-all, however might hit the man, or that, even if they kille ther mutilate the poor sufferer. In this po were afraid to fire, thinking either that the sition, Captain Eurenius asserted that the soldier and the bear remained for a considerable time, until at last the latter quitted his victim and slowly began to retreat, when, a tremendous fire being opened upon him, he instantly fell dead. On hearing the shots, the poor soldier jumped up, his scalp hanging over his face so as completely to blind him; when, throwing it back with his hands, he ran to wards his comrades like a madman, franticly exclaiming, The bear, the bear!' The mischief, however, was done, and was irreparable. The only assistance he could receive was rendered to him by a surgeon, who happened to be present, and who severed the little skin which connected the scalp with the forehead, and then dressed the wound in the best manner he was able. The scalp, when separated from the head, Captain Eurenius described as exactly resembling a peruke. In one sense, the catastrophe was fortunate for the poor soldier. At this time every one in the army was obliged to wear his hair of a certain form, and he in consequence, being now without any, immediately got his discharge." At another skall, when the bear was driven to her last resources, she, being sorely beset, "kept wheeling about from side to side to defend herself against her numerous foes, several of whom she laid prostrate; and would otherwise have injured them, had not her jaw been previously fractured with a ball. Among the party was the wife of a soldier, a very powerful woman of about forty years of age, who greatly distinguished herself on this occasion. Wishing to have a share in the honours of the day, she armed herself with a stout cudgel, with which she hesitated not to give the poor bear a tremendous blow upon the head. The animal, however, did not think this treatment quite fair; and not exactly understanding the deference due to the sex, sent her heels into the place where her head ought to have been, to the no small amusement of the bystanders. Nothing daunted by what had happened, the woman caught up another stick, the former having been broken owing to the force of the blow, and again began to belabour the bear; this the beast resented, as at first, by again tumbling her over. Still, our Amazon was not satisfied, for, laying hold of a third cudgel (the second, like the first, having snapt in two), she renewed her attacks upon Bruin, and, in return, had to perform a third somerset in the air. The bear, being at last fairly exhausted from wounds and loss of blood, *fell dead amid the shouts of her enemies." The ferocity of the bear is shown by many tales: "On a Sunday afternoon, whilst two or three children were herding cattle on a Svedge-fall in the forest, in the vicinity of Gras, a hamlet situated at sixteen or eighteen miles to the southward of my quarters, a large bear suddenly dashed in among them. The brute first despatched a sheep, which happened to come in his way, and then a well grown heifer: this last, in spite of the cries of the children, he then carried over a strong fence of four or five feet in height, which surrounded the Svedge-fall, when, together with his prey, he was soon lost sight of in the thicket. The children now collected together the remainder of their charge, and made the best of their way to Gras, where they resided. "Now that I am speaking of the bear's attacks upon cattle, I am reminded of an anecdote related to me by Jan Finne. The circumstance, he stated, occurred some years before, at only about twenty miles from Stjern: 'A bull was attacked in the forest by a rather small bear, when, striking his horns into his assailant, he pinned him against a tree. In this situation they were both found dead; the bull from starvation, the bear from wounds.' * * But we must now conclude; and that our review, from being all directed to one topic, may not be thought unbearable, we shall give a few lines touching another animal-the great horned owl, which abounds in the Scandinavian forests. "These owls, (says Mr. Lloyd,) Doctor Mellerborg assured me, will sometimes destroy dogs. Indeed, he himself once knew an instance of the kind. He stated another circumstance showing the ferocity of these birds, which came under his immediate notice. Two men were in the forest for the purpose of gathering berries, when one of them happening to approach near to the nest of the owl, she pounced upon him, whilst he was in the act of stooping, and, fixing her talons in his back, wounded him very severely. His companion, however, was fortunately near at hand, when, catching up a stick, he lost no time in destroying the furious bird. Mr. Nilsson states, that these owls not unfrequently engage in combat with the eagle himself, and that they often come off victorious. These powerful and voracious birds, that gentleman remarks, occasionally kill the fawns of the stag, roebuck, and reindeer. The largest of the birds common to the Scandinavian forests, such as the capercali, often become their prey. The hooting of these owls may often be heard during the night-time in the northern forests; the sound, which is a most melancholy one, and which has given rise to many superstitions, is audible at a long distance." And here we close, trusting that our quotations will render the author as agreeable to others as he has been to us. Of the sport, such as it is, principally treated of in these pages, he seems to have been passionately fond; and we are convinced, that any young nobleman or gentleman who may wish to visit Sweden, if they had the good fortune to engage Mr. Lloyd, would have in him a most excellent and incomparable bear-leader. When I am in the festal throng, The gay, the young, the proud, the vile, When I think how to them belong The hollow tear, the heartless smileWhen I behold the morning light Stealing upon them unawares, And see how ill the mirth of night The searching glare of sunshine bears,I think their hearts are like their facesAll false, all shrinking from truth's eyeAgain the wish my spirit traces To die-to die. When I with Nature am alone, At the sweet birth of morning's hour, Or when the bright sun from his throne Looks hotly on my fresh green bowerWhen I reflect, though I may love The summer shine, the summer bloom, And more than all, when in my heart And know my immortality- That waits me in those realms above- M. A. BROWNE. FEARFUL EPISODE IN A FOX CHASE. SIR Hugh, on gaining the wood at the summit of Morwel rock, dismounted, and tying his horse to one of the trees by the bridle rein, determined there to leave the animal, whilst he watched the direction of the hunters from the bold brow of the rock we have just attempted to describe. He did so, and finding himself somewhat fatigued with his morning's exercise, he threw himself upon a portion of stone covered with moss, that formed a convenient seat, and looked around him with a mind by no means insensible to the beauty of the scene, yet, at the present moment, too much engrossed with the interest he felt for the sportsmen, to give himself up to a contemplative mood. Whilst thus he sat, he heard the distant baying of the hounds, caught now and then a view of the huntsmen, as they emerged like moving atomies, from a coppice, or wound round the brow of a hill, their diminished forms sometimes but partially seen, and at others fully visible, as they cheered on the deep-mouthed pack to the notes of the "spiritstirring" horn. Having watched for some time the progress of the chase, Sir Hugh at length heard steps behind him. He started, and, on turning his head to see who might be the intruder, beheld a man of an athletic form, wearing a motion on his head, and a corslet of steel upon his breast, armed both with sword and pistols. The figure stood still, remained silent, but fixed an earnest and impressive look on Sir Hugh. The worthy knight, who was by no means prepared to encounter such a formidable appa rition, instantly recollected, to add to his terror, there was no means of retreat, since the stranger stood between him and that narrow and only pathway which led into the wood. On every other sido lay the fearful precipice. His aların increased, his teeth chattered, and a tremulous motion, too strong to be concealed, seized his whole frame, as he stammered forth a good morrow, in the hope to propitiate this intruder, who he instantly set down in his own mind (and true enough was the conjecture) could be no other than one of those lawless miners and villains, that lived, in part, by cheating the revenues of the crown, and, for the rest, by open violence and plunder. Deeply did Sir Hugh now censure in his heart the folly which had caused him thus incautiously to venture on such a spot alone. And so wholly was he unnerved at the moment, that, had he stood on the verge of the precipice which was near him, the slightest breath of air might have upset his equilibrium, and have consigned him to the abyss below. For some time, the formidable stranger seemed to enjoy with a malicious triumph, the terror he had excited; til! at length Sir Hugh mustered sufficient courage to rise from his seat, and made an effort to pass on toward the wood. In this he was opposed, for the stranger intercepted his progress, and motioned with his hand that he should remain where he was. Sir Hugh had recourse to expostulation, and said in a mild tone, "Friend, if such you are, I would entreat you to let me pass into yonder wood. There I have tied up my horse, and my people will be here to look for me anon; my business is not with you." “But mine is with you," replied Standwich, for it was the outlawed captain who spoke. “I have watched for you, I have traced your steps hither, and on this spot you shall hear me listen then." "I-I-I cannot," stammered out Sir Hugh, "I can no longer tarry. Let me pass on. This detention is contrary to law, and liable to the penalty under the proclamation of her gracious Majesty of the present reign, for it is enacted-" "Fool" cried the Captain, "of what avail are laws here?-Talk of thy proclamations and penal codes to the kite and the carrion bird, that shall find their prey on what is left of thee, 1 "Aye, and fearfully," said Sir Hugh, his terror returning in full force at this moment: yet I beseech you, for your own sake, if not for mine, do not add sin to sin. Let me pass hence, for such words are dangerous; passion leads to madness, and that may tempt you. Let me pass, and fear nothing from our strange interview this morning." injuries you have heaped upon my head-to repeat to you the crimes that owe their birth to you, and to warn you of a consequence that may be fatal to you and yours, whilst I point out the only means to shun it." "Holy Mary!" exclaimed Sir Hugh, who in his terror forgot that he was now of the reform ed church," you would not dare-you could not do such a deed, and that to a poor old man who "You shall not pass," cried Standwich; "I has never injured you." am not mad. I came hither prepared to meet "Be not too sure of that," replied his oppo-you-prepared to read the catalogue of those nent; "I have dared do things that you may hear of before we part. They may be a warrant I could do others something fearful. And as for injuring me, there lives not the wretch on this accursed earth who has injured me as you have done; and yet I have been the butt against which every worldly villain has been a shaft. But fear not-my purpose is not against thy worthless life!-I have no desire to cut short by violence the nearly wasted thread of thy remaining days. It is only resistance that would make me use the power I possess. Sit there, old man-aye, on yonder stone; there lies the dark gulf thou hast no mind to leap it; for age, dotard age, clings as fondly to this world of folly as the greenest youth. There lies the gulf behind you, and here I stand before you, George Standwich, armed, and in full remembrance of the past." "Great God! George Standwich!" exclaimed Sir Hugh, and he turned pale as death while he spoke. Is it possible? Do I behold George Standwich, who escaped-" "A charge of murder," said the outlaw, supplying the close of Sir Hugh's sentence, which from terror he suppressed as it was about to drop from his lips. "Yes, and more than that. In me you behold a man so miserable, that nothing but the privilege he has gained, as the right of misery, to curse, to hate, and to requite mankind, could make him endure to live, to inhale the common air that is rendered hateful, since it is poisoned by the breath of man. I am most wretched." "These words are dreadful," said Sir Hugh, who felt some relief to his personal fears, from the tone of deep melancholy in which Standwich spoke, since he knew well that men, when about to commit an act of violence, are seldom capable of any feeling that approaches to the softness of sorrow-" dreadful indeed. I am not your judge, George Standwich; my life is at this moment solely in your power. My purpose cannot be to irritate your feelings. Whatever counsel I give, therefore, must be honest; and thus much I am bound, in Christian charity, to give you. If a sense of (guilt, Sir Hugh was about to say, but his fears made him soften the expression, so that he only added) of past errors weighs upon your mind, there is yet a long suffering God who delights in mercy." "The past is past," said Sir Hugh, greatly alarmed." Why renew old grievances? I meant you no ill when I did what I conceived to be my duty to my friend, and to the common cause of justice-of humanity." Standwich laid his hand on his pistol, as Sir Hugh once more attempted to pass him. The knight suddenly stopped, and, as if calling up a degree of spirit that had before apparently deserted him, he said, "I will hear you, George Standwich; but I will not thus be governed by fear. I am an old man; shed my blood at your own peril. God is with us both, though the eye of man is far off. I am a sinner; but fitter, perhaps, to render up my account, on a sudden summons, than you are.' Standwich, struck by the only mark of real courage Sir Hugh had displayed during the meeting, as well as with the truth of the observation, dropped his pistol, placed his hand on the shoulder of the old man, and looking him full in the face, with an aspect in which phrenzy seemed to contend with grief, said, "But for thee, I might have been as thou art, happy, and unstained by the guilt of human blood. Have you not injured me? Who was it first discovered to Glanville my honourable affection for his daughter? Who interfered to induce him to separate us? You-you did this. Who advised her fatal marriage with Sir John Page, a wretch, sordid and miserable? You did this; and when those fiends that lie in wait to tempt men to their own perdition-those accursed spirits that stir up the soul to madness, lawless love, passion, jealousy, revenge-prompted me to seduce the wife of Page, and to bear her from him, who but you found out our retreat, and, after twelve months of guilt, tore her from my arms, to restore her, stained as she was, to those of a husband?-You, you did this, and more than this. Who accused her? By whose means was she brought to a public tribunal, and there convicted of murder? You were that accursed wretch." "So help me God," said Fitz, " before whose tribunal I must one day stand, as well as that unhappy woman, I did nought but what seemed "Aye, but who shall dare hope to find it?" to me my duty. The evidence I gave in court said Standwich, wildly, "not man, miserable was true. I deposed to nothing but what I saw man. All things, save man, are obedient to and heard. The signal given by you, when you God's laws. The winds and seas obey him; the threw the sand against her window, was disgreat globe, the heavens, and all the stars in tinctly heard by me, as unseen I lurked near their course, follow but one order, the law of you. The words also that you exclaimed," For him who made them. At His command, these God's sake hold your hand," and the answer vast and rugged rocks stand fast on their ever- made by your paramour from the window above, lasting base, receiving the sullen tempest that "it is too late, the deed is done." These words visits their loftiest crest in living fire, in thun-I heard, and to these I deposed in open court; der, and all the contest of the elements, with they were true. And if by them the criminal the same submission as they would the light- met her doom, it was by the judgment of heaest breath of spring. It is not thus that I ven, of her country's laws, and from no private obey God's laws, since one law I never can enmity of mine. Did she not say the deed was obey." done?" "You can think justly," said old Sir Hugh, who wondered to what this extraordinary discourse would lead, "and, in doing so, must be conscious that great is that sin to which we yield obedience against conviction." "You say well, old man," replied Standwich, and fixing his eye upon Fitz with a peculiar expression of bitter feeling, he added, "it is to you I owe all my guilt, all my misery; and, though my soul should be the forfeit, you I can never forgive. Now is God's law broken?" "She did, she did," cried Standwich, whilst a convulsive shuddering seemed to pass over his frame. "The crime was great, but ob, the penalty of it was terrible. She perished at the stake for the murder of her husband; and thou," he added, again relapsing into fury," thou didst bring her to it. It was thy act that lighted the fatal brand, else she might have lived. It was thy accursed spirit, active for evil; thy busy, meddling, legal skill, that collected facts, brought forward evidence, and did this to make one wretched woman yield up her soul in the midst of the horrors of the burning pile, to fill mine with endless tortures-and yet they tell me that I was the cause-the tempter-the fatal source of all. I fled to save my name the stain of perishing as a common felon. For fame is dear even to the damned; else why do so many perish with a denial of the very guilt for which they suffer? What must be life to me? what death? what an hereafter?" Whilst Standwich poured forth thus wildly the language of remorse and misery, Sir Hugh, who stood before him, and in whose bosom there was a large share of the milk of human kindness, felt even for this guilty outlaw some touch of compassion. This feeling encouraged the good natured knight once more in the attempt to sooth the mind of Standwich by leading him to better thoughts; and he said mildly," Holy writ teaches us, unhappy man, that the first steps by which the guilty return to God are, like those of the Prodigal, by the paths of humility, self-abasement, and peni. tence. That path lies open before you; and your own feelings seem to lead you to it. Follow the good suggestion-it is from God. Say with the penitent, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son;' do this, and may God have mercy on your soul." "That is thy creed," said Standwich; " but know that mine thinks it not enough-mine demands labours such as would startle the most zealous of thy faith, ere I can hope to obtain the merciful absolution of our church. I have visited Rome itself in the hope to find pardon; I have confessed all the horrid tale ;-even the Pope himself has heard it. And on one condition, on the doing of one only act, can I hope to receive his forgiveness. But it is not of this I would speak," continued Standwich," my misery can never end. And one of its fatal fruits will survive to curse me, even when I am in the tomb." "I hope not," said Sir Hugh; "and though you may hold my opinions heretical, yet this much I can truly say, in the brotherhood of common charity, that I trust thy miseries will end with thy days; that the pains you have suffered here on earth, may spare you those of an hereafter. Yet this hope can never reach you unless you renounce a guilty life. You have cause to thank God for one mercy, that you will leave no creature belonging to you to survive your shame." "You have touched a chord," said Standwich, "with a rude hand, that awakens a dreadful note in my bosom; one creature still survives, who owes to me the sorrow of an existence that must be branded with infamy. The child of our sin, the miserable offspring of adultery and murder, is still in being." "Good heavens!" exclaimed Fitz, "can such a wretched creature breathe, to be marked by the finger of scorn, as the child of the guilty Lady Page and of George Standwich?" "She lives," cried Standwich, "the child lives. And how will thy proud heart swell with indignation when I tell thee, Sir Hugh, that she is like to bear thy name, to become the cankered branch from which the honours, or say the shame, of thy house must descend to posterity! Margaret, the ward of Glanville, the betrothed of thy son, thy only son, is my daughter." This last communication so effectually overpowered old Sir Hugh, that he could only reply to it by raising his eyes to heaven, and faintly exclaiming as he did so, "is it possible? can this be the fatal secret of her birth!" "It is the fatal truth," said Standwich. "Aye, shudder; so will all mankind when they look on Margaret, and know her as the child of a murderess-as the child of horror-to sum up all that is dreadful in one word, as the child of Standwich. Who would wed Margaret, think you, thus disgraced, thus branded from her very birth?" "Not my son," said Sir Hugh. "I have but one son, the prop of my age, and the hope of my name. In him, flourishing like the green bay tree, I hoped to see his branches thicken around me in a happy posterity, whilst I might rest under them; and when, like the withered autumn leaf, I dropt away, leave others to succeed me green and vigorous. But rather than see the blood of my house mingled with such pollution as thine, rather than that, I would consent to follow John Fitz, all young and promising as he is, to the tomb; and then lay me down a desolate old man, to wait in sorrow till my glass had eked out the few remaining sands of life." "Yet," said Standwich, "with whatever dislike you may view this proposed union of our children (you start at the very thought of such a union), your abhorrence to it cannot equal mine. Your cause to detest such a tie cannot be so strong; for Margaret is in herself innocent. But think you I could behold my daughter wed with the son of him who was the first cause of all my sin and misery-the man who brought her mother to the stake; when such a union would make her the bride of one who is a heretic, already numbered with the damned? -No: I love Margaret with all a father's fondness. She neither knows guilt, nor that she is the offspring of guilt. She is like the flower that flourishes on these rude rocks, but is innocent and beautiful in itself. Yet, such as she is, I would rather, did she now stand here, hurl her headlong from this rock, and give her delicate limbs as a prey to the wildest bird that ever flapped its wings at the scent of blood, than see her wedded to a living thing that claimed alliance with thee." "Peace, peace," said Fitz, "it is awful to hear a father speak thus. Poor damsel! I, who renounce for ever the very thought of her being my son's wife, yet even I pity her; she seems of a spirit so gentle, so unfit to contend with the cold scorn of an unfeeling world. And, I fear, she loves my son. I know how dearly he loves her. I had given my consent, and now I must make him wretched." "It is a just requital," said Standwich, "a requital of your interference, when you first poisoned the mind of Glanville against me; when I loved, and honourably, his daughter, ere she became the wife of another." | "In that matter," replied Sir Hugh, "I thought I did but a friendly part; for I must tell you, George Standwich, you bore an evil reputation, as a young man of violent passions, of doubtful principles and conduct. But my poor John, to make him miserable, to disappoint his affections! I knew something fatal would happen from the hour of his birth, I learnt that by the stars as I cast his horoscope." died, and left Margaret to the care of Glan- "It is enough," said Sir Hugh; "had it "A mercy," replied Standwich, "that was not vouched to me. I looked at the miserable little wretch as it lay sleeping in my arms, after its guilty mother's death, and a horrid thought crossed my mind-I looked again, and the child, in the soft breathings of sleep, smiled like a cherub; the fiend that stood by, watching to tempt me to another crime, fled before its innocence, and a tear dropped from my eyes-yes, this hard heart was softened; and as I kissed the poor child, an angel seemed to whisper that it might be spared, one day to breathe to heaven a prayer from its innocent lips for mercy on my head-these recollections right," says the Masther. "Well," says he, an' I puttin' him up on the horse," whatever comes of it, Batt, it's a comfort to know that we done the business like gentlemen." THE REQUIEM OF GENIUS. BY MRS. HEMANS. Lifts still her solemn voice-but thou art fled! No tears for thee!-though light be from us gone With thy soul's radiance, bright, yet restless one! No tears for thee! They that have loved an exile must not mourn All the high music of thy spirit here, Some half-remembered song of Paradise Might sadly sound. Wert seeking still some oracle's reply, Forth on the blast. From buried friend. And hast thou found where living waters burst? Thou that didst pine amidst us in the thirst A DUEL IN IRELAND. (By a Servant, who was an eye witness.) The Masther an' Misther Doody over, that had a difference about a horse o' the Masther's, that he knocked again' Misther Doody's chesnut mare, an faix if they had, they sthruck one another on the rights of it. Well, it was late at night, after they dinin' together over at the Priest's house, an' so after they going, they agreed to fight one another in the middle o' the village, an' they havin' no seconds, nor nobody with 'em but meself. Indeed only Misther Doody was drunk, I don't say he'd do it, for he was always very exact about discipline, an' to say the truth fonder of the discipline than he was o' the fightin' (with a knowing wink). But the Masther threatened to post him, if he wouldn't do it that minute. So they borried a pair o' blunder pushes, and loaded 'em with slugs, an' they agreed to walk up to one ano-Speak! is it well with thee? We call as thou, ther, from one end o' the street to the other, With thy lit eye, deep voice, and kindled brow, an' to fire when they plazed. Well, when Wert wont to call Doody walked away to his post, an' the night so On the departed! Art thou blest and free? pitch dark, that you wouldn't see a stem apast Alas! the lips earth covers, ev'n to thee, your hand; "I'll tell you what it is now, MasWere silent all! "But I will tell you," said Standwich, "whatther," says I, makin' up to him an' whispering no star could ever reveal;-it is this, (and mark me well, for life or death depend upon it,) you must devise the means to break this engagement between your son and Margaret. Remember, it must be done without the secret of Margaret's birth being betrayed by you, either to that son, or to any living creature. Let me but once suspect you have revealed to John Fitz the truth, and vainly shall you attempt to shelter him from my vengeance. I have means, I have intelligence, I have engines constantly at work, of which you little dream. Betray to Fitz the fatal secret, and you shall speedily see your only son a corpse at your feet, and your name for ever extinguished. Promise silence on this theme, and then I leave you, perhaps for ever." "I do, I will promise it," replied Sir Hugh in great alarm; for these threats from a man so desperate as Standwich had awakened all a father's fears in his heart. "Tell me but this, before we part, does Glanville suspect that Margaret is the child of his deceased and guilty daughter?" "No," said Standwich; "he who bore the name of Margaret's father was my near kinsman, my dearest friend. To save an ancient house from total ruin and disgrace, to guard the helpless child from public scorn, he consented to take her with him to France, and there to bring her up as his own daughter. He in his ear, "walk away home with yourself "Stand "He was Yet shall our hope rise, fann'd by quenchless faith, As a flame foster'd by some warm wind's Freed soul of song! Yes! thou hast found the sought, And we will deem it is thy voice we hear, No tears for thee! the lingering gloom is ours powers, A Noble Reply-It is related of the eminent surgeon, Boudon, that he was one day sent for by the Cardinal Dubois, Prime Minister of France, to perform a very serious operation upon. The Cardinal, on seeing him enter the room, said to him, " You must not expect, Sir, to treat me in the same rough manner as you treat those poor miserable wretches at your hospital of the Hôtel Dieu." "My Lord," replied M. Boudon, with great dignity," every one of those miserable wretches, as your Eminence is pleased to call them, is a Prime Mi. nister in my eyes." PHILADELPHIA PORT FOLIO: A WEEKLY JOURNAL MODEL OF A PAINTER'S WIFE. WHEN Blake was six-and twenty years old, he married Katharine Boutcher, a young woman of humble connexions-the dark-eyed Kate of several of his lyric poems. She lived near his father's house, and was noticed by Blake for the whiteness of her hand, the bright ness of her eyes, and a slim and handsome shape, corresponding with his own notions of sylphs and nalads. As he was an original in all things, it would have been out of character to fall in love like an ordinary mortal; he was describing one evening in company the pains he had suffered from some capricious lady or another, when Katharine Boutcher said, "I pity you from my heart." "Do you pity me?" said Blake," then I love you for that." "And I love you," said the frank-hearted lass, and so the courtship began. He tried how well she looked in a drawing, then how her charms became verse; and finding moreover that she had good domestic qualities, he married her. They lived together long and happily. "She seemed to have been created on purpose for Blake:-she believed him to be the finest genius on earth; she believed in his verse-she believed in his designs; and to the wildest flights of his imagination she bowed the knee, and was a worshipper. She set his house in good order, prepared his frugal meal, learned to think as he thought, and, indulging him in his harmless absurdities, became, as it were, bone of his bone, and flesh of his flesh. She learned-what a young and handsome woman is seldom apt to learn-to despise gawdy dresses, costly meals, pleasant company, and agreeable invitations-she found out the way of being happy at home, living on the simplest of food, and contented in the homeliest of clothing. It was no ordinary mind which could do all this: and she whom Blake emphatically called his "beloved," was no ordinary woman. She wrought off in the press the impressions of his plates-she coloured them with a light and neat hand-made drawings much in the spirit of her husband's compositions, and almost rivalled him in all things save in the power which he possessed of seeing visions of any individual living or dead, whenever he chose to see them. His marriage, I have heard, was not agreeable to his father; and he then left his roof and resided with his wife in Green street, Leicester Fields. He returned to Broad street, on the death of his father, a devout man, and an honest shopkeeper, of fifty years' standing, took a first floor and a shop, and in company with one Parker, who had been his fellow apprentice, commenced printseller. His wife attended to the business, and Blake continued to engrave, and took Robert, his favourite brother, for a pupil. It is delightful to find, that the devotion of this excellent partner of a man of genius, lasted during life, and was repaid by the affection of the object which excited it. ments of Blake afford a touching proof of the The last moconstancy of their mutual attachment, and of his grateful sensibility to the value of the treasure he possessed in such a helpmate. He had now reached his seventy-first year, and the strength of nature was fast yielding. Yet he was to the last cheerful and contented. "I glory," he said, "in dying, and have no grief but in leaving you, Katharine; we have lived happy, and we have lived long; we have been ever together, but we shall be divided soon. Why should I fear death? nor do I fear it. I have endeavoured to live as Christ commands, and have sought to worship God truly -in my own house, when I was not seen of men." He grew weaker and weaker-he could no longer sit upright; and was laid in his bed, with no one to watch over him, save his wife, who, feeble and old herself, required help in such a touching duty. The Ancient of Days was such a favourite with Blake, that three days before his death, he sat bolstered up in bed, and tinted it with his choicest colours and in his happiest style. 66 DOING AS OTHERS DO. BY MRS. S. C. HALL. cannot 'My dear, there is little use in talking about I beg it to be understood that this was not He saw the thunder-cloud gathering over land. Any thing-any thing in reason; but it lady, "your race-horses-your hunters-your 66 Very well, madam, go on-go on; but let will obtain your own way. Pray, madam, be so me tell you, this is not the mode by which you kind as to inform me who was so very commu nicative as to my proceedings?-but you need on't." Grumbleton, coming forward, his hands crossed behind, and his face exhibiting all the to "But it will do, though," said sir James kens of bitter feeling; "I say it will do-you are both doing as others of the precious set of London and Parisian fashionables do; for the follies of both are now blended in our nobility. When a fine lady is ashamed of speaking her own language, and a fine gentleman will not wear good home-made woollen, I repeat, it will do." gentleman. "You cannot surely, sir, mean that your niece's extravagance is pardonable?" "You are "Dear uncle, you cannot mean to call my thousands he spends in his odious gamblings?" little expenses improper, or to approve the spending your money upon those who will call doing as others do'-you are you extravagant fools when you can spend no longer." 66 Exactly what I tell his lordship!" said lady Emily. 66 66 thousand times!" echoed the husband. Exactly what I have told her ladyship a continued the old gentleman, "What I say to one, say to the other," wrong-you are both extravagant-and you you are both must both alter; doing as others do,' must those who are more rich and powerful than end in ruin, because your world consists of yourselves." "If you would sell your racers," said lady Emily. "If you would give up your opera box," said my lord "If you would forswear gambling." "Out of the question!" exclaimed the gentleman. "The world would say we were ruined," said both together. lieve, for once," muttered the old gentleman as annoyed because he had found fault with both, "The world would say the truth, then, I behe left the room; and the young couple, each agreed in pronouncing him vastly disagreeable and absurd. and over the heads of fools, but they never Time passes over the world and it grows old, grow wise. debate, which was, alas! followed by too many "About twenty years after the above smart result, Sir James Grumbleton, wig, spencer, others of a similar character, and with a like and all,-was one fine spring evening, seated elegant conservatory which opened on a bright in his great cushion chair at the window of an green lawn. The sun was sinking with calm dignity, and shedding his last rays over tower and tree-ay, and like the Almighty Spirit of which he is so beautiful an emblem, over every little bud and flower that gemmed the hill side; the baronet was still a bachelor, and a very old one too, yet around him there was much that told of woman's care and woman's tenderness. nificent, they are most certainly, but unless lords of the creation-great, mighty and mag-I always speak with due reverence of the they are a good deal in female society, and that, too, of the best kind, they grow somehow or other very bearish; I beg of them not to be cise meaning; however, all my lady readers offended at the word, but I cannot find either an English or a French one to express my pretheir habits and manners makes its appearance will understand me. A certain something in if they pass thirty in what they sarcastically with refreshments they look as if they thought call "single blessedness." If they present you it a trouble; you must tell them to ring the bell; they are slow at removing their hatssoil your carpet with dirty boots-and even put |