Imagens das páginas

sition to hearken to the dictates of his shall go in,” and he entered, forcing heart, and that if the blood of M. de La Madame de La Valette in with him. At Valette was spared, it would cause tor- the sight of her, the Duchess d'Angourents of blood to flow, for his pardon lême became very much embarrassed; would cause the overthrow of the Min- her countenance showed a lively interistry, and it would be replaced by men est, but her eyes met her friends' glances, belonging to the powerful majority, who, and she dared not give way to her heart. once in office, would pursue other vic- She has often expressed her regret since, tims with relentless cruelty. M. Decares that she did not listen to the impulse of (then Minister of Police) thought that if her natural generosity. The king, seeing the Duchess d'Angoulême could be in- that he was not sustained, received the duced to intercede with the king for the petition and made an evasive reply. The pardon of M. de La Valette, the king's execution was fixed for the next day. fears would be dissipated. The king ap- This same day, Madame de La Valette proved the plan, and thought it excel- went to see her husband in a porter's lent. M. Decares engaged the Duke de chair, acconipanied by her daughter, a Richelieu to win the Duchess d'Angou- child of fourteen years old, and an old lême's consent. The duke spoke to her governess. The husband and wife dined eloquently and warmly, and at the last together in a separate apartment, where be touched her heart; she promised to the countess took her husband's clothes, intercede, provided her friends did not . and gave him bers. As if to make the object to it. · The method of obtaining difficulties of the evasion greater than the pardon was formed by M. Decares they were at best, & stupid servant was and Marshal Marmont, who was a devot- so imprudent as to say to the porters, ed friend of M. de La Valette; it was they would have a heavier load when agreed that Madame de La Valette would they returned, but that they would not fall at the king's feet, and that at the have far to go, and "you will get twentysame time she should invoke Madame's five Louis d'or." "Then we are to bring (the Duchess d'Angoulême) pity; when back M. de La Valette ?" said one of the Madame joining her prayers to those of porters; this man went away, but he the petitioner, the king would grant kept the secret; his place was supplied their request. The Duke de Richelieu by a charcoal-seller, who happened to had been authorized to say so much to be there. Three women soon appeared, Madame in the name of the king. But and crossed the jailer's room; one of the friends Madame consulted, dissuaded them seemed overwhelmed with grief, her from exerting any influence in the she covered her face with her handkermatter, and the next day (which was the chief and sobbed bitterly. The jailer, day appointed by M. Decares and Mar- touched, aided her out, and without darshal Marmont for this scene) the strict- ing to raise her veil. He went into the est orders were given that no women prisoner's chamber, where he found no should be allowed to enter the Salle des one but Madame de La Valette: “ Oh! Maréchaux in the Tuileries. When Mar- Madame," exclaimed he,"you have unIDont (who knew nothing of this order) done me! you have deceived ine!” came there with Madame de La Valetté When Louis XVIII. heard of it, he said: on his arm, the garde du corps on duty “Madame de La Valette has done her said: “Madame, my orders are that no duty.” M. de La Valette remained conladies shall be admitted." Marmont re- cealed in Paris until the 21st January, plied: " Are you ordered too to keep 1816. the out?" "No, Marshal.” " Then I


the east;

SATE upon the lofty Tryon's * brow, Broad was the realın around, fragrant below

The plains, with summer fruits and flowers increased.

The soul and eye were at perpetual feast
On beauty; and the exquisite repose

Of nature, from the striving world released,
Tanght ine forgetfulness of mortal throes,
Life's toils, and all the cares that wait on mortal woes.

Never was day more cloudless in the sky,

Never the earth more beautiful in view:
Rose-hued, the mountain summits gathered high,
And the green forests shared the purple hue;

Vidway, the little pyramids, all blue,
Stood robed for ceremonial, as the sun,

Rose gradual in his grandeur, till he grew Their God, and sovereign devotion won, Lighting the loftiest towers as at a service done. Nor was the service silent; for the choir

Of mountain winds took up the solemn sense
Of that great advent of the central fire,

And pour'd rejoicing as in recompense :
One hardly knew their place of birth, or whence
Their coming; but through gorges of the hills,

Swift stealing, yet scarce breathing, they went thenco
To gather on the plain, which straight way thrills
With mightiest strain that soon the whole wide empire fills.
From gloomy caverts of the Cherokee;

From gorges of Saluda; from the groves
Of laurel, stretching far as eye may see,

In valloys of Iselica; from great coves
Of Tensas, where the untamed panther roves,
The joyous and exulting winds troop forth,

Singing the mountain strain that freedom loves—
A wild but generous song of eagle birth
That summons, far and near, the choral strains of earth.
They come from beight and plain—from mount and soa—

They gather in their strength, and, from below, Sweep upwards to the heights-an empire free,

Marching with pomp and music—a great show

Triur:phal-like an ocean in its flow,
Glorious in roar and billow, as it breaks

O’er earth's base barriers : first, ascending slow,
The mighty march its stately progress takes,
But, rushing with its rise, its roar the mountain shakes.
O winds! that have o'erswept the viewless waste

Where nature dwells in verdure—where the wild,
Not barren, though a wilderness, is graced

With flowers more sweet than e'er in garden smiled, Or, in strange mood, by northern snows beguiled, Have swept the mer de glace, nor felt the cold

Unfold to me, as to a yearning child

[merged small][graphic]

That longs for marvels, in its longings bold,
The story of your flight, the experience yet untold.
The world is yours, for ever, generous winds !

Ye have won all its avenues; have swept
Where nature in her stern dominion binds

The waters in ice-letters, nor have crept,
Though the sad sun himself in Heaven hath slept
O'ercome with chills of apathy; and thence

Have brought the doom to flowers, that, unbewept,
Do not all perish ;-yet 'twould recompense
Your wrong, to share with us your strange intelligence.
The cultured and the wild, the height, the plain,

Ancient and present seasons, all are yours!
Ye have heard Israel's monarch harp complain,

Have swept old Horner's lyre on Hellas' shores,

Hearkened while Dante's savage soul deplores, And Milton moans his blindness in your ears,

Yours only!-Oh! how boundless are your stores Of treasured legends : yield them to my prayers, Make fruitful all the thought to rove through perishing years! Methinks, as now your billows from below

Roll upwards, and with generous embrace Swell round me, that I hear a murmuring flow

Of song, which might be story; and I trace

The faint far progress-men, and time, and place,
Cominencing in relations fit,-till start

The actors into action ;-art with grace
Appealing to the kindred in our art,
'Till all grows life and light, for fancy and the heart.
I climb the mighty pyramids, and scan

The boundless desert-vacaut, vast, and wild ;
Yet, still I see the ancient prints of man!-

To sweep away the sand above himn piled,
And pierce his vaults-reveal him as the child
Of an ungoverned passion, fierce and strong,

Rending his way to power ;-his nature sill'd
With savage lusts that teach a joy in wrong,
While vengeance broods above, nor spares the usurper long.
How, as your murmurs swell upon the sense,

Grow they to voices, and inform the ear!
The Imagination, in its dream intense,

By natural conseqnence becomes the seer;
The vanish'd ages at its will appear ;
The gates of Nimroud open : o'er the plain

Stream forth the servile myriads, dark and fair,
In fatal pomp, the power is wed to pain-
Sennacherib leads the host, and piles the fields with slain.
And Judah, as a captive in his hands,

Droops to his dungeon. The sad wife and maid
Go to their lowly toils in stranger lands:

Their silent harps among the willows laid,

Resound not, though by the fierce conqueror bade,
Respect the glorious God-rejoicing strains

That ever, inorn and eve, glad tribute paid
To the great Giver of their happy gains,
Ere guilty deeds had changed their raptures into pains.

Their mournfül harps, yet swept with trailing wings,

To unseen spirits; with a power to cheer, The sorrowful chaunt're-opened sacred springs

Of love and worship: the consoling tear

Though salt had yet its sweetness, and made clear Jehovah's promise of that coming hour,

Howe'er remote, the dawn of happier year, When in the fullness of his wakening power, The widowed bride should wear, once more, the bridal flower.

Thus, on your wings ye bear to unknown times,

The Empire's conquering shout, the captain's song; Your voices are the voices of all climes,

All ages--rise and fall—the weak, the strong;. The cry of grief or rapture, praise or wrong, Moves with your choral pinions ;-ages die;

But still their accents rise and linger long, Even as the light from stars that fleck the sky, Will strain through space though they no longer burn on high.

I list ye, and these valleys teem with life ;

The desert puts on verdure; cities soar Beneath the mountain; and the glorious strife

Of purpose and performance even more

Resounds from human haunts; the generous lore
Recalls the beautiful when earth was young;

Legions of glorious aspects ye restore--
Shades of these mighty minstrels who have sung
When Nature was a child, and Art first found her tongue.

I travel with ye c'er each sacred spot,

Made holy by the march of mightiest men; Here was the altar-place: this mystic grot

Harbored a muse: within yon wooded glen,

Pan marshalled all his satyrs;-here, again,
Gathered the little phalanx of the free,

Prepared to welcome the last struggle there,
For shrines and temples, dear to liberty,
The gift of shadowy fires, that watch'd the strife to see.

Where the glad nation, lapsed in summer bliss,

Forgot her vigilance—where the conquering race Stood forth, and bridged with death the precipice

That kept them from the bright luxurious place,

Ye lead me still,—till, meeting face to face, 1 gaze upon the past, o'er walls of time,

Each circumstance of power, and pride, and grace,
Unveiled, with realms of each delicious clime,
Where glory wraps her pall around the hills sublime!,

What empires ye unfold to me, blest airs,

That travel o'er all wastes of time and earth ;Those mighty shadows, when the strife was theirs,

Have felt your pinions, and, with sense of mirth,

Thrown wide their bosoms, feeling a new birth
In your cool breathings; in the storm of fight

Ye swept the plain, and to the soul of worth
Brought cheer, in echoing anwers of great might,
From other god-like souls that strove for home and right.

Oh! sing for me, for ever, from your heights

Roll from your deep abysses the proud strain
That teaches power, and tells of wild deliglits,

Of a sad grandeur, half allied to pain ;-
O billow anthers, upward swell again,
With all your awful voices, that unite

The ages with their Gods;—a shadowy train,
That trail great robes of purple on the sight,
And, in the maturing soul, look down with eyes of night!


“Sed itum est in viscera terræ:
Quas recondiderat, stygiisque admoverat umbris,
Exodiuntur opes irritamenta malorum."--Ooid. Melon

" Innumerable furnaces and pits
And gloomy holds."- Alexander Smith.

" Seven up."— The Broker. THERE is a wicked street, that is over- thy ebb and flow, to watch the “tide of

topped and crossly frowned upon by times." Philosophers justify thee, and the steeple of Trinity.

say thon art a necessary development of Baoks and railroad companies inhabit progressive and associated humanity. it, and various are its receptacles of The Arts do smile upon thee, and Relifloating capital. Digging has become gion accepteth thine alms. incorporate therein; and bad men do But for all that, I deal not in thy unscrup ulously go about to bury their securities. loose ta lents in the earth, by way of a -Oh, what a “suggestive” subject ! serious and paying investment. I am If it were my trade, now could I sermoved to apostrophize the iniquity. monize till doomsday. But I feel that

What have I to do with thee, thou the writ of Homily is exhaled alreadyWall street, stocked with ephemeral a transient inspiration that came upon "fancies !" I and my friends look down ine, unexpectedly glancing over the upon thee, from the garret and dormer stock-book of the Mining Board. windows of a sublime independence.

The truth is, I have something to say How little thou art! Thou art content about mining, in the concrete; someto control the sinall destinies of a nation! thing experimental about the modus Thy name is in the mouth of the politi- of inining; something in the way of cal economist. Thou art nothing—the autobiography-instructive, descriptive; mere mainspring of the State-a piece something in the Gradgrind line of facts; of mechanisin! Away with thee! Thou and my only anxiety now is, to make hast body. Thou art earth-born, mor- the transition easy, froin a moralizing tal. Thou feedest men. Thou pamper- vein to a copper vein. There is but one est them with bread. Thou buildest route. cities and ships, and sendest forth mer- We take the cars—cross to Philadelchandise, and makest civilization vulgar phia-get upon the Reading Railroad, and universal. Thy mean-spirited bank- and ride fifty miles. Here we descend ers support the charities of christendom at a lonely station--cross a bridge with with Money! I hate thee! Thou a river under it, and then another bridge knowest naught of ethical mysteries and with a canal under it-come to several metaphysies. Thou art dusty. Thou warehouses, a store and a dwelling, a never tastedst pure ether. Thou never great many nails lying about in kegs and dwelledst in lofts and celestial observa- otherwise, and a score or two of pigs tories.

(iron), all on the right bank of the It is true, thou hast backers. Practi- canal. We follow the road along the cal men love to look upon thee, and in canal a few rods, and discover a grist

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