XXVII.—IVAN THE CZAR.

MRS. HEMANS.

[Ivan, the czar of Russia, surnamed the Terrible, in his old age was besieging the town of Novogorod. His nobles, perceiving that his powers were impaired by age, requested that the assault might be made under the command of his son. This proposal threw him into the greatest fury; and nothing could soothe him. His son threw himself at his feet; but his savage father repulsed him, and struck him so cruel a blow that the unhappy youth died from the effects of it in two days after. The father then sank into the deepest despair. He abandoned alike the conduct of the war and the government of the empire, and soon followed his son to the tomb.]

I.

He sat in silence on the ground,
The old and haughty czar;
Lonely, though princes girt him round,
And leaders of the war:
He had cast his jewelled sabre,

That many a field had won,

To the earth beside his youthful dead,
His fair and first-born son.

II.

With a robe of ermine for its bed
Was laid that form of clay,
Where the light a stormy sunset shed
Through the rich tent made way;

And a sad and solemn beauty

On the pallid face came down,
Which the lord of nations mutely watched,
In the dust with his renown.

III.

Low tones, at last, of woe and fear
From his full bosom broke;

A mournful thing it was to hear
How then the proud man spoke.

The voice that through the combat

Had shouted far and high,

Came forth in strange, dull, hollow tones,
Burdened with agony.

IV.

"There is no crimson on thy cheek,
And on thy lip no breath;

I call thee, and thou dost not speak-
They tell me this is death!
And fearful things are whispering

That I the deed have done -
For the honor of thy father's name,
Look up, look up, my son!

V.

"Well might I know death's hue and mien;

But on thine aspect, boy,
What, till this moment, have I seen,

Save pride and tameless joy?
Swiftest wert thou to battle,

And bravest there of all;

How could I think a warrior's frame

Thus like a flower should fall?

VII.

"Didst thou not know I loved thee well?
Thou didst not, and art gone
In bitterness of soul to dwell
Where man must dwell alone.
Come back, young fiery spirit,
If but for one hour, to learn
The secrets of the folded heart
That seemed to thee so stern.

VIII.

"Thou wert the first, the first fair child,
That in mine arms I pressed;
Thou wert the bright one, that hast smiled
Like summer on my breast.

I reared thee as an eagle;

To the chase thy steps I led;

I bore thee on my battle horse;

He heard strange voices moaning

In every wind that sighed;

From the searching stars of heaven he shrank;
Humbly the conqueror died.

XXVIII.-INAUGURATION OF WASHINGTON.

[This interesting reminiscence of Washington appeared in the National Intelligencer, a newspaper printed in Washington. The inauguration described was on the 4th of March, 1793, and in the city of Philadelphia.]

I ONCE had an opportunity of seeing Washington under circumstances the best possible for exhibiting him to the greatest advantage. It was a privilege which could be granted but once to any one; and I esteem the hour when I enjoyed it, as one of the brightest of my life. The remembrance of it is yet fresh in my mind; years have not dimmed it; and I need not say with what force repeated public occasions of a like kind have since recalled it to my thoughts. Yes, it was my favored lot to see and hear President Washington address the Congress of the United States, when elected for the last time. Of men now living, how few can say the same!

I was but a school boy at the time, and had followed one of the many groups of people, who, from all quarters, were making their way to the hall where the two Houses of Congress then held their sittings, and where they were to be addressed by the president, on the opening of his second term of office. Boys can often manage to work their way through a crowd better than men; at all events, it so happened that I succeeded in reaching the steps of the hall, from which elevation, looking in every direction, I could see nothing but human heads; a vast, fluctuating sea, swaying to and fro, and filling every accessible place which commanded even a distant view of the building. They had come, not with the hope of getting into the hall, for that was physically impossible, but that they might see

Washington. Many an anxious look was cast in the direction from which he was expected to come, till at length, true to the appointed hour, (he was the most punctual of men,) an agitation was observable on the outskirts of the crowd, which gradually opened and gave space for the approach of an elegant white coach, drawn by six superb white horses, having on its four sides beautiful designs of the four seasons. It slowly made its way, till it drew up immediately in front of the

hall.

The rush was now tremendous. But as the coach door opened, there issued from it two gentlemen with long, white wands, who, with some difficulty, parted the people so as to clear a passage from the carriage to the steps on which the fortunate school boy had gained a footing, and whence the whole proceedings could be distinctly seen. As the president got out of the carriage, a universal shout rent the air, and continued, as he very deliberately ascended the steps. On reaching the platform, he paused, looking back on the carriage; thus giving the people the opportunity they desired of feasting their eyes upon his Never did a more majestic perperson. sonage present himself to the public gaze. He was within two feet of me; I could have touched his clothes; but I should as soon have thought of touching an electric battery. Boy as I was, I felt as in the presence of a divinity.

As he turned to enter the hall, the gentlemen with the white wands preceded him, and, with still greater difficulty than before, repressed the people, and cleared a way to the great staircase. As he ascended, I ascended with him, step by step, creeping close to the wall, and almost hidden by the skirts of his coat. Nobody looked at me; every body was looking at him; and thus I was permitted, unnoticed, to glide along, and happily to make my way into the lobby of the chamber of the House of Representatives.

Once in, I was safe; for had I even been seen by the officers in attendance, it would have been impossible to get me out again. I saw near me a large pyramidal stove, which, fortunately, had but little fire in it, and on which I forthwith