bridal robes, and that the device of the Count to whom the Jew had referred, was figured in needlework, upon the pure vest that floated over her graceful form. He turned pale as death; but the old man perceiving his agitation, bade him not fear, for that if he would but obey his directions, all should be well with him. "Youth," said he, bending his dark eye upon him, "young man, give me the ring that is upon thy finger." Carlos did not hesitate to perform his bidding, and grasping the jewel, the astrologer proceeded to the couch, drew a similar gem from the white hand of the sleeper, leaving there Carlos's in its place. Her ring he gave to the youth, who immediately put it on his finger with joy. In a moment the lamps in the chamber were extinguished, and utter darkness enveloped them; but drawing the lamp from his robe beneath which it had been concealed, the old man displayed to the amazed eyes of Carlos, not the gorgeous apartments, and the tapestried sofa, and the slumbering form of his Violanta, but his own chamber. "The night wanes," said the astrologer, "tell no one what thou hast seen, and to-morrow at the hour of five, repair thou to the cloisters of St. Mark,-ask me no questions, for I can answer none -observe my commands implicitly. The astrologer took his leave, and Carlos saw him no more. On the following morning, Carlos arose before dawn, and hastened to the cloisters of St. Mark; but they were not yet opened. With hasty and impatient steps he endeavoured to wile away the time, by humming sundry musical scraps; but this would probably have little tended to allay his anxiety, had not his Jew friend suddenly approached him:"Follow me," said his mysterious conductor. Aware of his ability to aid him, Carlos obeyed, and a private doorway admitted them to the long sought cloisters. Still, without further remark, the Jew led the way through them, and entered the chapel. It was yet dusk, so much so, that one person could be scarcely be distinguished from another, and the chapel was particularly gloomy. The Jew stopped behind a magnificent tomb, and opening his valuable box, drew from it various articles of dress: with which he bade the youth array himself. While Carlos was thus employed, the Jew delivered his instruc tions. "These are the vestments of thy rival, and the ring that thou bearest on thy finger has the power of making thee appear like him in form and voice, to all but thy bride, with whom thou didst yesternight exchange the pledge which I gave thee. Walk up boldly to the altar, and carry thyself as if thou wert the Count. I am the agent of the astrologer thou sawest last night; he was the brother of thy Violanta's mother; he swore at her dying hour, to watch over the future happiness of her child, and by his art, discovering that you sincerely love each other, and knowing that Don Garcia would sacrifice his daughter to aggrandize himself, the astrologer had exerted the science he has so long studied to keep his oath, and ensure Lines on the Death of the Duke of Wellington. 7 the felicity of his niece. My mission is now fulfilled, and now, good youth, fare thee well!" Thus speaking, the friendly Jew left him, and as he had said, Carlos found the wedding party assembled round the altar, and the priest waiting for the approach of the bridegroom. Nor did the ring fail in its effect, for his approach was hailed by the unsuspecting Don Garcia as the Count Terceira, and the bride looked pleased, and the ceremony was performed without any of the expected tears and faintings, to the no small surprise of the father, who was aware of her detestation of the Count. Need I relate the remainder of the story? Let it suffice, that the meridian sun discovered the mistake: the father stormed and raged, and then grew calm and forgave the lovers: that the rejected count consoled himself by marrying an actress. Carlos became a great man, and a governor: and he always protected the Israelites (whom it was considered most Christianlike to persecute) in remembrance of the Jew of Tolosa. LINES ON THE DEATH OF THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. A requiem for the brave! Let England's voice ascend; For a spirit has soared from earth on high, Swell high your note of grief, A warrior stamped by fate. In peace, at council-board he took his post; Could glory greater be? Wisdom to one gave he, Arthur, Duke of Wellington. On Belgium's hard-fought ground- The stormy ocean round, And blood-red fields of Spain 8 Lines on the Death of the Duke of Wellington. Was heard in triumph the trumpet of fame, With blood and carnage rife; His march was o'er the field, On bloody field entrenched, or stormed height, His genius shone, the star,- He lived in stormy days, When fiercest passions raged; And war against Europe waged; Glory his for ever! Though the hero is no more; Great deeds live for evermore ! Can there be brighter found in history's page? Weep, sons of Britain, weep! Utter your wailing deep; From "Tropical Lays," by H. G. Dalton. THE LOST SON. Ar the close of one of the coldest days in the winter of 1835, an old lady called at our house to pass the night. She had come that day from B, was cold, fatigued, and hungry, having tasted no food since she left her own desolate home. Upon entering the room, I was attracted by her appearance. Sixtyfive years could scarcely have told the length of her life's pilgrimage, yet she seemed afflicted with few of the infirmities usually attendant upon such age. Her dress, somewhat fanciful, was of Scotch plaid, and the large, bright checks of scarlet, green, and black, made rather an unbecoming contrast with the deep traces that time had graven on her face; her little starched cap, in full trim, set daintily up; and the high-heeled shoes, which she had slipped from her feet, were lying toe to toe, at prudent distance from the fire; all seemed the carefully-preserved relics of former taste and years. As she drew up her small figure more erectly in the chair, and glanced her black eyes familiarly round the apartment, I thought I had never seen the face of years so bright with animation; as if she had never known the many disappointments allotted for the threescore years and ten-or that such trials had been happily forgotten; her whole countenance, indeed, indicated that she had just set out in life with new hopes, new joys. After she had taken supper, I drew my seat towards her, and she soon revealed to me the following simple story. I will endeavour to tell the tale as it was told to me. I "In the northern part of Scotland, in the small town of lived many years with my husband. We had no family, and hard work enough it was, upon a poor farm which scarcely paid for tilling, to get an honest livelihood. "Somehow or other, my husband was always poor, and always unfortunate. I would not be ungrateful, but Providence did not smile upon him, so we almost thought, as upon those who needed his smiles much less. Yet I can now look back and see it was all for the best. My husband's health was very poor, and with an aching heart I have often watched him from the window of our home, raking the scanty hay, or hoeing the sandy loam. I've seen him lean upon some tree to wipe the sweat from his pale forehead, and his wearied arms would fall heavily beside his trembling body. And sometimes, as he came in, he would say, If it were not for you, Nelly, and the baby which Heaven has given us, how glad I should be to go to my rest -or if it might please him to call us all together!' "But such was not his will. Ere our baby had passed its first year, my husband did go to his rest. He left me peaceful in God, yet 'sorrowing' as he said, for the lonely walk which might be mine N. 8. VOL. XXXV. C and oh, how lonely it has been!-'before we should meet again in heaven.' "Six years I struggled on with my little boy, desiring nothing for myself, but much for him; and a brighter lad than John you never saw. But my health failed at last, and unable longer to maintain us both, I concluded to put him out to work as well as he could, (and he was quite handy,) to some farmer. "For some time I heard of no one who would take so young a boy. At length, Mr. Burton, a miller, happened to be in the place on business, who lived about fifteen miles from there; hearing of me he called where I was, and agreed to take Johnny home with him. As he had never been to any school, Mr. Burton promised to send him three months of the year, till he was ten years old, on condition that till then I would furnish him with a new hat and pair of shoes once a year. "I could have but little information of the man's character, yet, as it was the only way before me, I consented to let him go. "Bitter was the hour of our parting. He had always been a good boy, and was all the world to me--my daily companion, my only, affectionate little son. Now in his clean clothes, his light glossy hair parted and brushed one side-though his round blue eyes filled with tears, yet he never looked so well, or seemed so dear to me before. He clasped his little arms tight around my neck! really, I was more like a child than he, for I scbbed and wept-I could hear his little heart beat quickly as he tried to comfort me. 'Mother, don't cry so,' said he; I will be good. I shall soon be old enough to earn some money, and you shall have it all. I will buy you some glasses, and then you can sew in the evening. And I will get you a pound of tea. John Wood loved me; he will hold the thread for you to wind, and pick up chips for you now, sometimes, I am sure.' "But the moment came for him to leave. I looked upon them as the waggon rolled out of the yard and jolted slowly up the hill, and watched them till the top of his little blue cap disappeared, as they descended the other side of the hill; and then I entered the house and wept anew. "I could not afford to ride; so, when the year came round I walked to Mr. Burton's to see my boy, with the shoes and hat. My spirits were never lighter, or more nimble, than while on my way; they were less so coming home, perhaps, but I could have gone any distance to meet him-my heart was very tender for him. I found him well, and a good boy still. "The second year I went, and he was much improved. His kind feelings made him a little gentleman to everybody and everything. He would not knowingly give a moment's pain to bird or chicken, or any creature; and everybody loved John. "The third year I went. He was ten years old, that day-it was the nineteenth of June. It was dark when I came to the house, No person or creature was in the yard no light gleamed from |