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the shackles of society. Yet I have no doubt I shall be able to effect this; but were I suddenly to break the ties which bind us, were I, their chosen leader, to accept what either they could not participate, or should hold in scorn, my destruction, and that, I have no doubt, of all connected with me, would be the probable result."


"I believe you are right, my son," returned the bard, "nor will I interfere as to the mode of carrying our wishes into effect; but where, let me ask you, ere we part, do you rest your head for the night, for you talked but just now of not rejoining your band until the dawn ?"

"Behold yon cavern," he said, pointing to the excavation which we have already noticed as visible on one side of the glen, "it is thither I occasionally fly from conscious guilt and strife. Whilst my steed is grazing in the valley, my couch of leaves is there, and there in silence and in solitude, on the banks of the stream which has witnessed the innocence of my childhood and my early youth, I love to pour out the anguish of my soul, the only solace which my wayward fate has left me!"

"Farewell! my Hubert," cried Shakspeare, strongly affected by what he had just heard, "farewell! I will not forget you. Nor do you fail to revisit, as you have promised, the cottage of our friend at Wyeburne. Through him you shall hear from me, and beneath his roof it will not be long, I trust, before we meet again!"

As he said this he kindly pressed the hand of the unfortunate youth, whose heart, however, was too oppressed for utterance. The bard then turned to retrace his steps to Wyeburne Hall, and Hubert, overwhelmed by the conflict of his own emotions, rushed into the deepest recesses of his cavern.

(To be continued.)


In this path,

How long soe'er the wanderer roves, each step Shall wake fresh beauties; each short point present A different picture, new, and yet the same.


THE second book of the Gardens of De Lille is entirely occupied by the subject of plantations, the most important part, perhaps, in the creation of landscape scenery; as upon this, in a great measure, depend the richness and variety of the views, and the happy disposition of light and shade. After commenting, therefore, on the grace and grandeur, the elegance and majesty, to be derived from the growth of forest trees, even in their insulated state, the poet passes on to a consideration of the diversity, sublimity, and beauty, springing from their natural or artificial combination, under the shape of forest, group, or plantation, terminating his picture

with a further encomium on the picturesque effect so frequently resulting from the form and situation of a single tree, and especially from the solitary grandeur of an ancient oak:

Tantôt un bois profond, sauvage, ténébreux, Epanche une ombre immense; et tantôt moins nombreux,

Un plant d'arbres choisis forme un riant bocage;
Plus loin, distribués dans un frais paysage,
Des groupes élégans frappent l'œil enchanté:
Ailleurs, se confiant à sa propre beauté,
Un arbre seul se montre, et seul orne la terre.

Dans les jardins de l'art, notre luxe autrefois Des arbres isolés dédaignoit la parure : Ils plaisent aujourd'hui dans ceux de la nature. Par un caprice heureux, par de savans hasards, Leurs plants désordonnés charmeront nos regards. Qu'ils diffèrent d'aspect, de forme, de distance; Que toujours la grandeur, ou du moins l'élégance, Distingue chaque tige, ou que l'arbre honteux Se cache dans la foule et disparoisse aux yeux. Mais lorsqu'un chêne antique, ou lorsqu'un vieil


Patriarche des bois, lève un front vénérable,



Que toute sa tribu, se rangeant à l'entour,
S'écarte avec respect, et compose sa cour;
Ainsi, l'arbre isolé plait aux champs qu'il décore.
Chant 2.

The forest there immense, a black profound Of savage gloom, frowns more than midnight round: Here choicer trees array the laughing glade, And weave around a gently-glimmʼring shade : There scatter'd groups arise at distance due, Adorn the vale, and fix the raptured view: A single tree here bids her boughs expand, While lonely beauty decks the subject land.

Erst art in gardens trim disdain'd to see
The simple beauties of a lonely tree:
But Nature owns them, and they win applause:
For various trees are sway'd by various laws,
And tho' caprice or chance may bid them grow,
Ev'n from their wild confusion grace may flow.
Then mark with care their distance, form, and hue,
Whose dignity or grace may charm the view.

And lest the shapeless trunk may hurt the eye,
Hide in deep shades its foul deformity.
But O respect the patriarch oak, whose brow
Sublime o'erlooks the stripling tribe below!
And where his grandeur tow'rs the shades between,
There open wide around the sylvan scene;

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