Obrazy na stronie
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to see two sailors of the coast-guard, armed with sword and pistol, stealing quietly among the thick brushwood that covers the chine, and making their way to the cave which the lovers had so often visited in their childhood. Their path, if they chose to enter Mr Wallop's domain by the little wicket, instead of following the main road, conducted them very near the cavern; and urged on by curiosity, which seemed mingled in Charles with a strange feeling of gratification, they resolved to take the shorter, though steeper ascent. On passing the mouth of the cave they perceived a fat gentleman stripped to his waistcoat busily plying a pick-axe, and so deeply intent on his employment, that he never perceived the spectators of his proceedings. At last, with a groan, partly of fatigue and partly of delight at reaching the object of his search, he stooped down, and after some manful tugs, succeeded in lifting up two moderate-sized tubs, connected with each other like chain-shot by a leather thong. This he put over his neck, and with a tub dangling from each side was hurrying out of the cave our two friends having slipt aside to leave him free exit-when the sailors, each with a pistol at his head, commanded him to stand, or they would drive a bullet through his brains.

"No use making any resistance; we got notice of this, this morning, and have the rest of our force stationed within call."

This was said in rather a growling tone of voice by the boatswain, who had the pistol still pointed within half an inch of the prisoner's right ear.

"Hawl him along to Mr Wallop's, and get him committed for trial. 'Twill be five years before the mast, and a month or two of Winchester tread-mill."

This was said by the other assailant, whose pistol was within an equal distance of the left ear of the sorely puzzled Doctor Bubb.

"But, gentlemen," said the prisoner, "in Heaven's name, what is the meaning of this? I will explain in a few words the provisions of Magna Charta."

"You may have your provisions in a cart or a waggon if you like; but in the mean-time, them two little tubs is good evidence against you."

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"March him along," added the other, giving the prisoner a push on the shoulder that nearly sent him over the cliff.

"Let me understand this; you come here and forcibly seize my person, and object to my carrying off these tubs of geological specimens. Is there a rival philosopher in the case? there a collector here?"

Is

"To be sure there is, and a supervisor too; but come along, Mr Wallop will soon set you to rightscome".

"Mr Wallop, did you say? You must mean his nephew, Mr Martin; the old gentleman is non compos.'

"Oh, curse the compass," said the men, "it's all plain sailing here, so shut-to your clapper and come on.'

"Will they indeed carry the poor gentleman to your uncle?" enquired Jane Lorimer in an anxious voice, as they hurried up the path, and cut into Mr Wallop's grounds.

"To be sure they will, and, by Jupiter! the old fellow will take his revenge on this pedantic booby, and, perhaps, Jane, it may be a lucky incident for ourselves."

"How, Charles? Who is this old man with the tubs ?"

"A Doctor Bubb; but I'll tell you more as we go on ; you must positively come in for a few minutes-my uncle will be delighted to see you."

"Oh, Charles! not now-not till he knows-not till"

But before her objections to paying the old gentleman a visit could be concluded, the door was opened, and she only finished her full reasons for not being able to enter the house when she had arrived in the drawing-room. A noise of loud talking in the library had almost alarmed her as she passed; and she was glad to have a few minutes to herself to prepare for her interview with her former friend. The passionate old man had quarrelled with her mother, and had been harsh and angry with the poor girl herself; but she knew that, along with all his bad temper, there was a great fund of goodness; and she, therefore, had great confidence in what Charles had told her about his uncle's change of sentiment in her favour. The noise in the

next room increased in a few minutes so prodigiously, that Charles rushed off to ascertain what was the matter. On entering the library, he saw Doctor Bubb closely guarded by his two captors-Mr Wallop sitting in his arm-chair with a grin of the most diabolical triumph on his rubicund visage, and Sophronia and Captain Slap in a recess of the window in earnest consultation.

"This old man is not in the least insane," said Sophronia.

"No more than a mad dog," groaned Captain Slap, sympathizingly. "He'll certainly send the Doctor as a common sailor on board the fleet, and flogging's not abolished yet."

"Good Heavens! he has often told me that persons born on a chalky formation are hot and violent. It seems, indeed, too true-I must exert myself in his favour." Saying this, she walked forward and said, " Mr Wallop, you must allow me to have some right to interfere here, as soon about to be an inmate in your house.".

"That's no evidence," interposed the magistrate, with all the dignity of power, "you saw this person, who calls himself Bubb, in possession of two tubs of contraband spirits ?"

"Yes, sir," answered both the men. "You received intimation of a projected run on this coast, and set watch accordingly?" "Yes, sir."

"And this is the man ?"
"Yes, sir."

"There can be no farther doubt on the subject. I must commit him for trial; and in the mean-time, I can give orders for a prosecution for the wilful damage done to my land."

"This I can explain in a few words," began the lecturer.

"I advise you to say nothing, sir," said the justice; "your words will be taken down."

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we are to reside along with you, it will make no"

The dignity of the bench was for a moment forgotten, and some epithets by no means complimentary to his nephew's intellectual accomplishments, were showered on him in a voice of thunder.

"Marry her!-have my whole estate riddled with deep holes by iron bars and cart wheels-perpetual grubbings for shells and fossils-Doctor Bubbs lecturing all day about chalks and strata!"

"And why not, sir ?" triumphantly enquired Sophronia; "I shall teach your nephew the science of geology; we shall ransack the very centre of the universe for specimens conchology will be our study also-you already know something of shells ?"

"A little," replied Charles; "my uncle will find a specimen of a very lovely one, if he will go into the next room. If he will bring it in, I'm sure it will reconcile him to every thing." The uncle, at Charles's request, accompanied him to the drawing-room; and in the mean-time Captain Slap made a proposal to Sophronia, as it was evident old Wallop would never agree to have his estate made into a mineralogical museum; and as with, out that the match was by no means desirable, he would undertake to free Doctor Bubb from his unfortunate predicament, if she would reward him for such a favour with her hand."

"For Heaven's sake, Miss Sophronia," whined the Doctor, "consider the miseries of five years' banishmentaway from science and literature !"

"With the cat-o'-nine-tails in full play," chimed in Captain Slap.

"Twill be a Roman sacrifice to friendship and geology."

"Enough!" said Sophronia, "I yield. Deliver Dr Bubb from his disastrous condition, and I am yours!"

"Have the goodness," said Captain Slap to the sailors, " to open one of the tubs."

"No use o' that, sir; we knows 'em by the look."

"Open it, nevertheless; if I am not greatly mistaken there is no penalty for a man carrying a few gallons of gooseberry wine; and if all was done as Bammel promised, it is nothing but some British Champagne." The men looked rather crest-fallen,

but on doing as they were requested, they found it was too true.

"Hurrah! hurrah!" at this moment exclaimed old Bammel, coming into the room, "we've nicked you, lads-jigg'd if we han't tho'-we've had a nice run in Shepherd's Cove all the time you were watching this old gentleman in Fisher's cavern. Too late, boys-all saved!-the whole crop; jigg'd if it aint."

Some communication of the same sort must have been made to Mr Wallop, for a smile had replaced the former stern expression of his countenance, as he brought Jane Lorimer into the library, and presented her to the party.

"I thought you had gone for a specimen of a shell!" exclaimed Sopronia, disappointed.

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SOPHOCLES TRACHINIÆ.

VENUS Swayeth all below,
E'en the gods to Venus bow;
Wondrous might, I trow, hath she!
Ever hers the victory!

How by many a luring wile
Chronos' son she could beguile,
Not mine the task to tell;

Or him, the God whose force can make
The solid earth's foundations shake,
Or the dark Lord of Hell:

Mine to sing a fiercer strife
That the Goddess woke to life.
Came there for this bride of old,
Suitors two of giant mould:
Wrestler's feint, and warrior's blow
Well I ween their fight could show!
Rushing, trampling, from afar,
Like a goring bull, to war,
From his dwelling by the sea,

From the far Eniadæ,

Came the river-warrior on,
Acheloüs, Tethys' son!

Glorious Thebes his rival bore,-
Thebes whence Bacchus sprang of yore,—
With the bow, and with the spear,
With the mighty club of fear
Brandished high his pow'r to prove,
Dreadful came the son of Jove!

Fir'd by love, in act to close,
In the midst the warriors rose;
While above them, all unseen,
Blue-eyed Venus, beauty's Queen
Hover'd, with unshrinking eye,
Arbitress of destiny!

Sounded then the forceful blow
From clench'd hand, and pondrous

bow;

And from off his forehead torn,
Crash'd the monster's splinter'd horn!
Sinewy limb with limb was coil'd,-
Haughty brow with blood was soil'd,
And the groan, but ill represt,
Burst from either lab'ring breast!
But where Phoebus' glories bright
Bath'd the distant hill in light
(Thus my mother's legend said),
Trembling sat the dark-eyed maid:
Motionless in deep suspense,

Piteous was her gaze intense!
Destined to the mightiest sword,-
He who conquered was her Lord!
Mournful as a timid fawn
From its gentle dam withdrawn,
Soon she left her mother's side,
Great Alcides' hard-won bride!

H. K.

LINES, SUGGESTED BY A POEM CALLED THE "FLIGHT OF YOUTH," IN THE AUGUST NUMBER OF BLACKWOOD'S MAGAZINE.

MINSTREL! thou hast poured a strain

I could list, and list again,
Drinking aye a deeper pleasure
From the oft-repeated measure—
Such a harmony divine
Dwelleth in that dirge of thine!
In the morn of yesterday
Fell I on the witching lay,
Whiling by the noontide hour,
In my solitary bower,
Reading little, thinking less,
In my summer idleness!
Suddenly, as with a spell,
On my soul its music fell!

Ever since have I been haunted,
In my waking, in my slumbers,
By its melancholy numbers,
Like one that is enchanted.
Yet I may not all agree
With its deep despondency.
He is mine whom it bewaileth;
Lightsome limb, and laughing eye,
Health and Hope, and Courage high,
Of this goodly company,
Fainteth none or faileth!
Seven years of sunny weather
Youth and I have spent together;
We have traversed, hand in hand,
Many a sea, and many a land-
Roamed o'er many a giant mountain-
Drank of many a hallowed fountain;
Singing, laughing, as we went,
In our gladness innocent.

Such the vows he swore at starting,
Who could dream of his departing?
Is it, is it so ?

Hath the Minstrel spoken truly ?
To some other limb more light-
To some other eye more bright-
To some heart that beats more newly,
Love forgot, and promise broken;
Not one little parting token,
Not one kindly farewell spoken,
Will the false one go?
Joy! joy! it is not thus !
Minstrel thou hast wronged him,
When thou saidest life was dim,
Sad, and dark, and deadly cold,
And all full of woes untold,
When he leaveth us.
True it is my heart's best brother
Soon must part to glad another-
True that Time, that despot strong,
Will not let him linger long;
Yet he will not take his flight,
Like a traitor in the night:
Erelong a warning will he give,
Many a little token leave :
Many a farewell will be spoken
Ere the cherished bond is broken!
Softly, kindly, gentle Sprite!
Will he vanish from our sight:
Oft will he look back and sigh
For the pleasant days gone by.
Slowly pacing, often turning,

Once again to clasp as, burning,
Fearful, sad, and broken-hearted,
From our bosom to be parted.
Is he, is he gone?

Time, alas! hath iron sway:
In some region far away,
In a dungeon old and gray,
Will he watch him all the day;
Night is still his own.

Dull old Time! he little knoweth
All the strength that love bestoweth.
Never chain was forged may bind him;
Distance vanisheth behind him.
From his broken den,

On the night-brecze riding free,
To our chamber cometh he,-
Telling in our sleeping ear
Tales of many a bygone year,
Quaffing now the hallow'd fountain,
Roaming now the giant mountain,
Over land and over sea
Once more wand'ring merrily,
Youth is with us then.

Minstrel, saidst thou," Youth is gone,
And hath left us to our moan,
All unfriended and alone?
Nay, and if thou speakest this,
When he dwelt with thee, I wis
Thou didst wrong him sore.
Never else to wo and sadness,
He that was so fond of gladness,
Would he give thee o'er.
Hark! in silvery tones, and clear,
He is whispering in mine ear,
"Brother! might he always dwell
With the souls he loveth well,
From one true and faithful heart
Never more would Youth depart!
Grieve not, for the tear-drops flowing
Nought avail to stay my going :-

Yet, though they may nothing aid thee,
Shall thy love be well repaid thee;
For to-day and for to-morrow
Thou mayest feel a pang of sorrow;
But the gentle one I send
Soon shall bid thy weeping end.
Every pure and kindly spirit
This my blessing doth inherit :
Comrade sweet, I ween is he;
He shall tell thee tales of me;
He shall paint me to thine eye
With all love's fidelity.
Thou hast but to summon him
When thy spirit waxeth dim,
And in memory, at thy will,
Shall thy youth be with thee still!"
Minstrel, to mine inward hearing
Thus he breathes his tones of cheering:
Ay, and in my heart I know

He hath spoken truly!

Therefore will I not to wo
Yield myself unduly ;

For when Youth his flight hath taken,

I shall not be all forsaken.

K. H.

THE ABBEY.

CORONATION SONNETS.

WITHIN the Minster's venerable pile What pomps unwonted flash upon our eyes! What gorgeous galleries o'er each other rise!

But less with gold and crimson glows the aisle

Than with fair England's living splendours; while

Beneath the pavement sleeps her buried glory

While o'er the walls yet breathes her

deathless story.

And not of living loveliness the smile, Still less of costly robes and jewels sheen, The soulless grandeur, can our thoughts beguile

From dwelling on those hallowing recollections,

Which chiefly make this spot the fittest scene Wherein to consecrate those new affections, We plight this day to Britain's Virgin Queen.

THE QUEEN.

How strange to see that creature young and fair,

The ensigns dread assume of sovereign

power:

And claim a mighty kingdom for her dower. Oh! crowns are weighty less with gems than care!

Shall one so slight such stately burthen wear?

And in those femininely feeble hands

The orb of empire how shall she upbear? How wield the sceptre of those wide-spread lands,

Whose strength and wisdom kneel for her commands?

Yet that calm brow bespeaks a placid breast As there in innocence august she stands; Perchance that weakness may protect her best,

Which doth suffuse our gazing eyes with

tears

Of joy that is intenser made by fears.

THE CROWNING.

How dazzling flash the streams of coloured light,

When on her sacred brow the crown is placed!

And straight her peers and dames, with haughty haste,

There coronets assume, as is their right. The sudden blaze makes all the temple bright,

As if the temple smiled to see her crowned. All eyes dilate with that imposing sightAll voices make the vaulted roof rebound With shouts, in which the cannons' roar is drowned,

That burst in thunder on the startled ear. The lofty anthem swells the pomp of sound. It is no slavish clamour that we make, Who, born ourselves to reign, in her revere The kingly nature that ourselves partake.

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* Some did sneer (strange though it seem) at the incident which rendered Lord Rolle's homage an occasion of displaying the amiable character of his gracious Sovereign. But the vile will talk villany,'

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