112

THE PRINCE OF THE POWER OF THE AIR-A VISION.

life, and the whole of his private fortune, to his plans

IV.

of agricultural and educational improvements.

He

has not been better treated than the other great bene- And in that dark pavilion slept the wind. factors of mankind, who have had to attack estab- While gazing o'er the ocean far-outspread lished prejudices. At first his attempts drew upon The dreamy moon enchained my passive mind. him the odium of the aristocratic party, which were I saw the lazy billow raise its head, suspicious of his intention and the consequences of his plans, and subsequently the democratic party assailed him, thinking his plans equally hostile to

their interests.

And then sink down as if it sank with dread—
As if it knew the storm was sleeping near,
And feared to wake the maniac from his bed.
I heard a footstep by my startled ear,
And suddenly I saw an aged man appear!

V.

In the appendix our author gives a short but interesting account of an agricultural school for orphans at Fearnhead, near Warrington, Lancashire, in which the Swiss model has been successfully followed by Mr. Cropper, a member of the Society of Friends, whose efforts in this direction are so laudable. The little volume is exceedingly well timed, and will tend to give a proper turn to that excitement and inquiry which now exist on the subject of national education. We again and again claim our reader's attention to the whole book, which may be read As though his restless spirit semed to say through in a single evening.

His hair was white-his ample forehead high;
I thought I saw an ever-active ray
Burning in his intolerable eye,
As if a fire, which nothing could allay,
Was in his bosom burning life away.
I often heard a weary sigh from thence,

The inward agony was too intense

For her controul-too fearful for her sufferance.

VI.

From the Dublin University Magazine.

And then his features changed; a sudden fear,
Vague, yet increasing, bound me, as it were

THE PRINCE OF THE POWER OF THE AIR. With chains of ice-for now did he's appear

THE PRINCE OF THE POWER OF THE AIR.-A VISION.

For now the rude waves, wakened by the gale,
Disturbed the sea-deeps where they found repose;
They now, in crowds, tell o'er the fearful tale
Of their wild shipwreck and their many woes,
To waves that only mock, while still the deaf wind
blows."

X.

I turned to where he pointed; crying "See;"
And o'er a mountain, while the old man bowed,
The moon rose red in her full majesty.

113

Thou shalt for ever be, for we reserve
Such powerless souls not in a silent grave,
But in those depths of pain from which no time can®

save."

XV.

So spoke my weird companion where we were
Alone upon the shore; but now I thought,
While something whispered to my soul "beware,"
That we went onward till we swiftly walked
O'er lonely mountains, while the old man talked

Then howled the winds-the shores cried out aloud, Of strange and distant worlds, and still we saw

And, like a vast, innumerable crowd,
Which falls before the idol it adores,

The frantic billows rose to grasp the cloud,
And, rolling, tumbled on the deafening shores,

As if the hosts of hell came bursting from her doors.

XI.

And then, retiring, all the waves deplored,
And o'er the sands rolled backward to the main;
And, like the wail of nations when the sword
Of some resistless tyrant, drawn again,
Is threatening death and centuries of pain-
When freedom leaves the land, and all the brave
Are dead or dying on the battle plain—
Such was their voice, and each receding wave
Was like a dirge sung o'er some mighty monarch's
grave.

XII.

The thunder rose, and gave his mandate-then
As smitten by the arm which he defied,
The falling demon, not to rise again,
A sheet of flame came diving to the tide;
The shores, the billows seemed as if they cried
Like children, when the tyrant thunder spoke,
And the loud wind was heard as if it sighed,
Like grief that sighs above the heart it broke,
Their voices nearly drowned when that dread peal
awoke.

ΧΠΙ.

Again the thunder rose-the lightnings came,
His fearful ministers; what light they shed!

The red round moon before us, and were brought
Close to her orb; then overpowering awe
Came quickly over me, unable to withdraw.

XVI.

Throned in the moon one sat, while clouds fell round
In sable folds about his gorgeous throne,
Approaching me, and suddenly I found
Myself where all the crimson moonlight shone
On towering rocks and wildernesses lone.
The wail of winds-the roar of waves, below,
Came far and feebly, like a dismal moan,

I felt my senses stunned, as with a blow,
And horror seized my soul e'er she could fly from woe.

XVII.

That was the King of Torment; fearful name!
Like dark electic clouds, his brows and hair
Were black and matted, in his eye a flame
Seemed waving, as if the lightning there
Flashed forth defiance from his soul's despair;
His features wore, with all the awe of death,
That dusky red the moon's eclipses wear

When Fear's dark form, while nations dread to
breathe,

Stands in the shadowed moon and awes the world beneath.

XVIII.

Recovering now, I thought I saw a star
Approaching speedily, and waxing bright
As it came near, though still it was afar,
Where all the sky was sunny to the sight,
And blue and mild as if it were not night,

Beneath, the earth seemed throbbing through her But some elysium shone there free from storm

ON SEEING A MANIAC SUDDENLY SMILE.-TO THE EARTH.

CHRISTIAN ASPIRATIONS.-CONVERSATION.

Wrapt in cool shades, or flashing bright,
As yon true stars, of morn and night,

Tell how thy course hath run.

Haste; for thou bear'st the dead;
A moving house of graves!
Yet o'er each silent, sightless head
Thy surface thrills, beneath the tread

Of youth's gay dance; and hope hath spread
Flowers o'er thy gloomy caves.

Launch'd in Creation's morn,

Through Time's majestic portals;
Now bear'st thou, sear'd and voyage-worn,
Man's earliest dead, and latest born,
The love and hate, the fame and scorn,
All hopes and aims of mortals!

Unanchor'd and unmoored,

On thee is risked our all!
Rude surges rock the festive board;
Wash o'er the the miser's coffer'd hoard
Yet still each pilgrim's niche is stor'd
With idols, great and small.

Haste ruin round thee raves;

Time's ancient arches shake!
Decay creeps forth from mould ring caves;
And dark mutations whelming waves
Shall burst thy spheres,-disclose thy graves,
And bid the slumb'rers wake!

Haste for no home in thee,

Our heaven-bound spirits find; Our wistful eyes no anchorage see, In time or space, or earth or sea; No rest in all immensity

For man's immortal mind,

THE PRESS.

Hail Messenger from land!

Sent from those shores unknown,

By Him whose scarred, yet conquering hand
Shall guide the ransom'd pilgrim band;
'Till friend with friend united stand

Around his Father's throne!

From the Sunbeam.

115

F. M. S.

CHRISTIAN ASPIRATIONS.
ASK'ST thou why, the world despising,
Unsatisfied with joys terrene,
The Christan's soul delights in rising
To the world of bliss unseen?

'Tis not that earth affords no pleasures Which he may taste with pure delight; It is that brighter far the treasures

Known to faith but not to sight.

'Tis not that there are none around him
Whom his soul delights to love,
It is that stronger ties have bound him,
To the Holy One above.

"Tis not that he would bear no longer
The toil that is man's portion here;
'Tis that he longs with powers far stronger,
To labour in a higher sphere.

'Tis not that here, in darkness shrouded,
The present God he fails to trace;
"Tis that he longs, with eye unclouded,
To view his Maker face to face.

CONVERSATION.

One thing that occasions our finding so few people who appear reasonable and agreeable in conversation is, that scarcely any one thinks less of what he is about to say, than of answering correctly what is said to him. The most artful and complaisant people content themselves with affecting to pay attention to what is said, whilst it is evident, from their looks and manner, that they are little attentive to it, and impatient to take up the conversation, without reflecting that they thus offend others, and fail to convince them on any point. Listening attentively, and answering to the purpose, is the perfection of conversation.

THE PRESS.

The press is a messenger of truth, the herald of science, the interpreter of letters, the amanuensis of history, and the teacher of futurity. Like the sun, it dispels the gloom of night, irradiates the shade of ignorance, and pours a flood of knowledge on the world: it dilates the perceptions of man, extends his intellectual vision, inspires his heart with sensibility, and his mind with thought, and endows him with past and present omniscience; it directs his way to the temple of fame, and discovers to him the path by angels trod to Zion's holy hill.

From the Dublin University Magazine.

Jed my pronunciation, and sung ballads for my amusement with all the good-humour and simplicity imagi nable. Then, they had a pet bulfinch, which was THE THREE WIDOWS OF FRANKFORT. mightily taken with my whistling of the Irish melodies, which he would sometimes echo with a truth MANY years ago, whilst travelling on the continent, I was attacked by a slow fever, which, after and we looked into the garden, ten to one there sate that was really surprising and if it was evening, clinging to me for some time, and baffling all my old Carl Openheim in the arbour, with his pipe in his efforts to shake it off, fairly got the better of me, and laid me on a bed of sickness at Frankford-on-the mouth, and by his side, filling up the rest of the narrow bench, might be seen his wife, the roundest, Maine. The inn at which I put up was clean and neatest little housewife that ever existed, in her orderly; but an inn, in its best estate, is a desolate and uncomfortable halting-place for an invalid, and Then, towards twilight, we often heard the heavy small, close cap, and her knitting in her hand. as soon as I was sufficiently recovered for the exer step of Herr Steinbach, followed by the entrance of tion, I applied myself to find private lodgings, as my his somewhat burly person,-when I considered it medical attendant declared that it would be still some only prudent to beat a retreat to my own apartment, weeks before I could safely travel. which, (it is no wonder,) seemed rather solitary. The apartments I engaged were in the house of a tobacconist named Openheim, who kept a small shop time Amelia, having taken me aside for the purpose, So six weeks passed away, and, at the end of that in the town, and had his private dwelling in a narrow informed me, with much blushing and giggling, that street, near the outskirts. I was so pleased with the the ensuing Monday was fixed for the celebration of neatness of the dwelling and the quietness of the her sister's marriage, and that she was commissioned situation, that I unhesitatingly engaged the rooms to give ine a formal invitation to be present. for the whole term of my intended stay.

66

All our relations and friends are invited;" said The family with whom I sojourned, consisted of a she, even my little sister, Roschen, is coming from father, mother and three daughters-the eldest of school on purpose, for it is the first wedding in our whom, named Gertrude, was twenty-five years of age; family, and as it is a far better match than any of us the next, Amelia, twenty; and the youngest, a little could reasonably have looked for, my parents wish girl of twelve or thirteen, called Roschen; she re-to do Herr Steinbach and my sister all possible sided, principally, with a distant relative, who kept honour."

a sort of school at some distance, and, at the time of

my arrival, was absent. The two elder sisters were to the ensuing Monday with much pleasant anticipaI gladly accept the invitation, and looked forward smart, merry, dressy young women, not remarkable tion.

for beauty, but still sufficiently pretty to be belles on Here I must just observe, that though Gertrude a small scale, and flirts on a large one, whenever Openheim was about to marry a man much older they found opportunity, This latter quality, indeed, than herself, plain enough, and very rich, there was had deprived Gertrude of no less than seven lovers nothing like a sacrifice in the whole proceeding. Her six of whom being neglected, in succession, for each parents were, undoubtedly, much pleased that she other, were finally revenged by the seventh, who should marry so respectably, but they loved her too neglected her. But, at the time my story commences, dearly to attempt any restraint on her feelings or Gertrude was in possession of an eighth, and he no actions, in so important a matter. She had accepted less a person than a banker, from Cologne-twenty Herr Steinbach of her own free will; her previous years older than herself, it is true, and not particu- flirtations had left no very deep impression on her larly handsome, but supposed to be possessed of no affections, and, amidst all her gaiety and good-huinconsiderable share of that unfailing beautifier-mour, she possessed worldly wisdom to be quite gold. Perhaps Gertrude might not have found Herr alive to the advantages resulting from a marriage so Steinbach quite so charming as she upheld him to much beyond her expectations. Herr Steinbach's be, had he been unprovided with that marvellous offer she considered as a perfect god-send, which it cosmetic. But she was poor; and his choice was a would have been worse than foolish to refuse. disinterested one, at least, which was enough, in Fraulein Gertrude had chanced upon a party, given itself, to win him some share of favour. by a distant relative of Herr Steinbach's, who reThe Openheims were possessed of very limited sided in Frankfort. means, but they seemed, on the whole, a happy of her wealthy relation's arrival, and, though its The fete took place in honour family. They were forced to let their first floor, in- giver stood a little higher in the scale of Frankfort deed, and the daughters took in fine needle-work, society than the Openheims, she was not insensible but they sang their old German songs over their of the value of attractive belles, on such an occasion, tasks, with such cheerful, happy voices, that it did and invited the smart daughters of the tobacconist one's heart good to listen to them. accordingly. Here Herr Steinback met Gertrude, German manners are simpler and less formal than was much struck with her appearance and her gaiety, ours, and almost without effort either on their part or -inquired who she was, was introduced,—and, my own, I became domesticated with them as part forthwith, became her devoted admirer. They had of the family. My sitting-room, commanding a view been engaged a few months, and for the last six of the street, was, for far the greater part of the day, weeks of the period, the somewhat elderly lover had untenanted. Their's, on the ground floor, at the back managed to let his business detain him in Frankfort, of the house, overlooking a pleasant, old-fashioned and at length observed, it was not worth while to garden, was infinitely more agreeable, especially return home till after the wedding. So Gertrude, when those two merry maidens were its inmates. who, to tell the truth, was not yet tired of parading There they laughed at my bad German, and correct-herself amongst her young friends as the betrothed