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“Mamma,” said Rosa, “ I have had a

TO CARACTACUS. letter from cousin Lizzie this morning, in- Long bave I look'd on and admired the skill viting Annie and I to spend a few weeks With which thou wield'st thy sword-the with her. Can you spare us?"

critic's pen, "Well, my dears, it is rather early to go Now keen as a two-edged blade, in seeth, out visiting, but as I see by the letter your and then friend will be there, I think you had Soft, and as soothing as the murm'ring rill, better go. I see you are to go on Thursday, Breaking in ripples on the charmer's ear and it is now Tuesday, so you must make On summer eve. Even so, my worthy the most of your time.”

friend, The next two days were spent by the Have I'drank in thy strains so cold, yet sisters in anticipating their visit, and talk- clear, ing of the mysterious envelopes they had Where “Minstrel and Philosopher" doth received. Thursday arrived, and Rosa blend and Annie found themselves after a long In flowery wreath so fair ; and tho' betimes journey at their uncle's house, where they Thy cutting hyper-critiques almost hath were welcomed by their aunt and cousins. Fanned up the slumb'ring seeds of latent Rosa and Annie had never been much from wrath, home, as their parents were of a quiet turn. I thank thee now for missing my poor of mind, and did not care for the enjoyment rhymes; of the frivolities they saw around them; And since 'tis so, I raise my flag again, their chief delight was the society of their And dare thee to mortal combat on the plain. two daughters, who were now growing

ALEXANDER K. ERSKINE. into womanhood, and who had never been separated from each other. Mr. Robert

CHESS. Lee was the only surviving relative of their father, so there was no wonder that the two CONDUCTED BY CAPTAIN CRAWLET. families should be bound by the closest

GAME V.-SICILIAN OPENING. ties. They were as one family, though BETWEEN CAPTAIN C. AND MR. B. separated by distance, and that distance WHITE,

BLACK. often travelled by both families. The (MR. B.)

(CAPTAIN C.) 1 P to K 4

1 P to Q B4 morning after their arrival, Rosa, Annie, Lizzie, and their friend Kate, were walk

2 P to Q 4

2 B P takes P 3 K Kt to B 3

3 Q Kt to B 3 ing in the garden talking of all that had

4 K Kt takes P

4 P to K 3 happened since they last met.

5 Q B to K3

5 K Kt to K 2 “Oh! Lizzie,” said Annie, “what about 6 K B to Q3

6 K Kt to Kt 3 that letter I sent you ? Have you found

7 K B to K 2 out who sent it?"

8 P to Q B 3 ** Well, Annie, I could not tell at first, 10 P takes QKt

9 Q Kt to Q2

9 Q Kt takes K Kt

10 P to K B 4 but I thought I could detect one of the IL K P takes P II KP takes P capital letters, so I took it to Charles and 12 P to K B 4

12 P to Q4 asked him if he knew who had written it. 13 Kt to K B3 13 Q B to K3 After a little coaxing he told me he and 14 Kt to K 5

14 Kt takes Kt

15 K B to K Kt 4 his friend, George Morton, had written 15 B P takes Kt

16 K B takes Q Bch them, but did not think we should be able 17 å takes K B 17 KR to B 2 to find them out, for they endeavoured to 18 R to Q B sg disguise their writing."

19 Q R to B 3

19 Q R to K B sq Many plans were arranged by the cousins 20 P 10 K Kt 3

20 P to K Kt 4 as to how they were the best able to pay off 2! B to Q B 2

22 Kt Ptakes P the debt they owed to the young gentle-23 KtP lakes P

23 Q to Q Kt 5 men, but whether that debt was ever paid 24 è to K B 2 (a) 24 P to KB 6 I am not able to say. But in after years, 25 K to a sq

25 KR to B 5 when Rosa was Mrs. Charles Lee, and 26 Q R takes K B P(6) 26 KR takes QR Lizzie Mrs. Morton, they often talked of 27 Q to K Kt 2 ch

27 K to R$ the letters that made them April fools.

28 R to K Kt sq 28 Q to K 3
:9 P to Q R 8

29 K R to B 7

and Black wins in a few mores.

NOTES. Wait patiently, desire moderately, and

(a) Protects the Pawn. act conscientiously, and all that you hope (6) Unsound. White loses a Rook, and cannot for reasonably shall be fulfilled.

recover it.

7 Castles

8 Castles

18 Q to K 2

21 P to KB 5





(MR. B.)


1 P to K4 2 K Kt to B3

2 P to Q3 3 B to Q B 4

3 B to K 2 4 Castles

4 K Kt to B 3 5 0 Kt to B3

5 P to KR 3 6 P to Q4

6 P takes P 7 Kt takes P

7 Castles & Kto K R8

8 B to K Kt 5 9 P to KB 3

9 B to Q2 10 P to KB 4

10 Kt to Q B3 11 Kt takes Kt

11 B takes Kt 19 B to Q 3

12 Q to Q 2nd (a) 13 P to KB5

13 Q R to K sq 14 R to K B3

14 B to Q sq 15 ROK K: 3

15 K to R sq 16 Q to K2

16 B takes P 17 Q B takes RP (6) 17 P takes B 18 Kit takes B

18 kt takes Kt 19 B takes Kt

19 Q takes P 20 Q to Q2

20 Q takes B 21 Q takes P eh 21 Q to KR 2 22 to Q2 22 R to K 4

WHITE. and Black, with a piece ahead, eventually wins. WHITE TO PLAY, AND MATE IN THREE


SOLUTION OF PROBLEM III. () The deciding move.


BLACK. (6) Had White followed up his attack, he ought I Q to Q B 8

1 K moves to have won the game.

2 0 to K B 8

2 K moves 3 Q to K B3 ch

3 K takes either Kt

4 Q m. on Q Kt 3 PROBLEM V.

or KB7



1 Kt from Q R 5 to Moves all forced

Kt 7
2 B to Q2
3 B to K3
4 B mates


Problems I. and II.-Correct solutions received from Alexis, A.D., Ellna, G.A., Alpha, R.C., P. T. R., and others.

Problems III. and IV.-Correct solutions received from Alexis, G. H., H. S., C.T., Charlie F., G. C. S., and Adamanthus.

PLEASANT, when toil is past, and sunbeams fade,
In home's deep quiet to nestle at our ease;
To close the eyes in peace, and fill the shade
With dieams of fancy-hear the whispering trees,
The music of the breeze, the tinkling rills
Wandering at will down green and terraced hills.
Pleasant, to have that inner sight of soul
Which, piercing veils and types, discerns the whole
Compact of myriad parts, which duller eyes
Survey perplexed in ignorant surprise.
Pleasant, to trim kind thoughts into sweet song,
From simple flowers and wayside talk to weave
Lessons of truth which, spoken, all perceive :
Such innocent joys to humblest bards belong.





may glance from earth to heaven, and

soaring he may take us to the celestial A FONDNESS for poetry was, with me, gate, and seem to unlock for us the secrets one of the earliest manifested signs of of the eternity that is passed, and paint intellectual life. When little past the the season when there was war in heaven, days of infancy it was my delight to while we stand mute with admiration learn hymns and other verses by heart, and wonder at his sublime daring ; but, which I did in great numbers, to the won if the poet's mission be to delight that he der and admiration of my elders. The

may mend mankind, then, with all due liking, thus early manifested, has grown reverence to these high priests of the and strengthened so that still to roam in the poetic fields is one of my sweetest poetic altar, I am disposed to think that

a flight more within the sphere of human pleasures.

nature's ken may fulfil all the purposes A certain old man, when questioned as that poetry was intended to subserve to the extent of his poetic acquaintance, and, therefore, though Cowper does not affirmed that he had read pretty well all attempt to scale the heights, or sound the poetry that had ever been printed. the depths of undiscovered regions, yet Now, I cannot come up to that; I make nevertheless I claim for him that which no pretention to such universal know- indeed I need not claim, for it is neither hedge; all I venture to say is, that I have contested nor disallowed—a name and a given the subject a share of my regard place amongst bards of undying fame. and attention." Milton, Shakspeare, and Yes, Cowper is a poet by universal sufferYoung, Thomson, Tennyson, and Long.

ance, and I am disposed to say “ forgive fellow, and many more whose names I blest shade" the meddling presumption need not state, have been perused by me; that would attempt to apologise for thy and I regard with admiration, mixed with defects; certainly they stand not in my awe, the sublime strains of the first-men- way; nay, more, I am almost inclined to tioned poet, and the universal acquaint, exult in the fact that thou hast some, ance with human nature as displayed because by them thou art brought nearer by the second, and have lingered with

to my heart. delight on the luminous pages of all the

I think it will be seen that I am not others; but my favourite-well, certainly actuated by a blind favouritism; however, I have not mentioned his name, and some I proceed to make the remark I have inmay suppose him included in the unmen terrupted, namely, that although Cowper's tioned list; but no, I must single him out, fame is now established, and rests on an for he must occupy in my page, as he did enduring basis, there was a time when in my heart, a first and a foremost place. his gentle spirit was chafed by the coldHe is—but his own words may best de- ness and neglect which met his endeavours scribe him

to serve. Yes, the critics made very free The bard that blends no fable with his song,

with his productions; they even weighed Whose lines, uniting by an honest art

his verses at the value of the paper upon The faithful monitor's and poet's part,

which they were inscribed ; but what of Seek to delight, that they may mend mankind, And while they captivate inform the mind.

that? They neither make nor mar im

mortal fame, and many a poet besides Thus Cowper writes-thus modestly Cowper has escaped the oblivion which speaks he of a vocation he himself so truly these caustic monopolisers of taste bave and ably fulfilled, and that not for one pronounced as the condign punishment age alone, but for all time. But though for his presumption. I unhesitatingly say thus much for my I have said that Cowper is my favourite favourite, yet be it known that I claim poet, and I suppose I ought to say why, not for him equality with the great for a preference without a reason to back masters of the art; still, contradictory it would be credible neither to him nor as it may seem, I would ask, what should myself. Well, then, in order to meet the we look for in a poet that his description supposed requirement, I beg to inform all does not include? I grant the poet's eye who may care to know, that very early in

life I began to cultivate his acquaintance. the spirit of the religion he loved and Whether I found in his writings a chord exemplified, is it any wonder that they which vibrated in unison with my own should reflect something of the light that views and feelings I will not affirm of gave them birth? No; the wonder would that early period, although such is the rather be, at least to one unacquainted case now; but my principles and tastes with the reasons, that he who possessed were then unformed and undeveloped, this combined light" did not do more to so it would perhaps be more correct to diffuse it; but we know that there were say that studying mostly in his school I very strong reasons for the amiable poet's learned to look at things through the shortcomings, and therefore we saymedium which he presents, and to form " If brighter beams than all he throw not forth, my tastes from his pattern. Yet it must 'Twas dire disease in him, not want of will or

worth.” not be supposed that I did not make excursions into other poetic fields, nay, I But notwithstanding the dire disease often did so, but always returned with which so often beclouded his spirit, and renewed zest to the smooth and verdant caused him to “hang his harp upon the meads where my favourite walks with willows,” he yệt did enough to earn for nature and with nature's God.

bimself the right of being considered a This, then, is my account of my poetic noble witness for virtue, nay, more, "a preference-a preference at which, though preacher of righteousness” under the many may sneer as a want of taste, many disguise of a poet.

LILY H. will, I doubt not, heartily participate with me; but as to taste I think I have shown plainly enough that I do not claim A VISION IN THE TWILIGHT. for Cowper a foremost place amongst the great masters of the heaven inspired art.

TWILIGHT's stealing o'er the valley,

Creeping up the distant height, No; regarded as a poet in what I may Deep'ning in the little parlonr, call an absolute sense, he has doubtless Where I sit and muse to-night. many superiors; but if we view him in

Sit and muse in happy silence, the light of a poet and moralist com

Nestling by my mother's chair, bined, I think he must be fairly allowed Feeling but her loving fingers to stand alone. And this I account his Softly passing o'er my hair. chief glory; and surely, unless morality

Darling mother! this last evening be a thing of little worth, it is no I would give it all to thee; slight service that Cowper rendered; and But, anon, the morrow riseth it will not, I think, be saying too much

Phantom-like, 'twixt thee and me. for him to affirm that, with the exception Let me nestle closer, mother; of those who wielded the pen with an Fold me in thine arms again; avowedly religious aim, he has done more

Oh ! how exquisite is pleasure for the real benefit of his race than all

When it borders upon pain! his contemporaries, and perhaps we may But, away yo gloomy fancies, also say, than all his predecessors put

Boding sorrow and unrest, together.

I will read a happier future

In the love that stirs my breast. A true poet we are told is the highest type of man; if this be fact, a poet's life Let me look upon the vision should be an embodiment in practice of

That has glorified my life,

Beam'd upon me from the storm-cloud, all that is pure, and good, and noble; but

Quench'd my passion, pride, and strife. alas! the scarcity of examples bearing out this view serves but to prove that

It has given me strength for weakness, something more than the poetic gift is

Happy hopes for gloomy fears,

Joy for sorrow, peace for warfare, necessary to the realisation of moral great- Radiant smiles for dimming tears. ness. That something Cowper had. He was a true Christian; that fact explains the

Let me trace this blissful vision source of his power; and bending the rays

Darling mother, unto thee,

While the dreamy twilight deepens, of his genius to concentrate on his pages And the fire glows cheerily.

We must leave the busy city,

Wander on, and on, until This broad river shall have narrow'd

To a little rippling rill.

Both are silent, both are thinking

Of the dark and troublons past; Of the dawning of the morning,

Of the peace that came at last.

We will follow its bright waters

On their singing, silv'ry way, Through the breezy, open meadows,

With their wares of new-mown hay.

Yes, at last, at last, thank heaven !

Sorrow broods not o'er them now:Peace reigns in the mother's bogom,

Shines upon the daughter's brow.

But the deep'ning shadows warn us

We may not prolong our stay : See, the mists are gath'ring thickly,

And the vision fades away.

Past the village, hiding snugly,

'Neath the high and wooded hill; Past the little red-brick'd school-house,

And the quaint old water-mill. Past the quiet, shady grave-yard,

With its swelling mounds of green; Past the ivied steeple, pointing

To our Home, though yet unseen. Are you weary, darling mother?

Listen to the singing rill: There's a cottage on my borders,

In a nook round yonder hill. Let us hasten, darling mother,

We shall see it soon, I know; For I've often travell’á thither

When my heart was sad and low.

Only round the corner, mother ; -

There! now, did you ever look
On a lovelier little cottage,

Or a cosier little nook ?
Such a wealth of blushing roses

Have you ever seen before,
Stealing through the open window,

Clamb'ring round the cottage door? Let us enter, darling mother;

See! how neat is every spot; Wouldst thou see the gentle mistress

of this charming little spot?

Know'st thou not the gentle mistress

I have pictur'd to thee now!
Clasp me closer to thy bosom,

My own mother-it is THOU!
And the maiden - dost thou know her? -

She who nestles fondly by?-
Let me hear thy earnest blessing,

Dearest mother-it is I!
This, then, is the fairy vision

Hope has hung 'wixt grief and me : When the last " Farewell" is utter'd,

And I leave my home, and thee. Ere another twilight deepens,

Many a long and weary mile
Will have parted me, my mother,

From thy gentle, loving smile.
But this vision, bright and cheering,

Will be with me then, I know,-
Check the sigh ere it ariseth,

And the tear-drops ere they flow. Oh! to labour for thee, mother,

When thy bloom and strength are gone, When life's sun draws near its setting,

And the eveutide comes on :Many a ray of hope and gladness,

On my daily path doth fall;
But this is the fairest, mother,

And the dearest of them all.
But we know not, ah! we know not

What the future hath in store ;
Earthly hopes are false and fading,

Fading, mother, evermore.
But we know, thongh these may perish,

One sure Hope is left us still ;
Let us trust our FATHER'S guidance,
And bow humbly to His will.


Ah! then, nearer, darling mother,

Till bright hope the vision clears ; Look intently, thou art gazing

Through the mist of future years. 'Tis the quiet, dreamy twilight,'

And the firelight's ruddy glare Falls upon the gentle mistress

Sitting in her old arm-chair.

There are lines upon her forehead,

Drawn in years now fled away, When keen sorrow changed her tresses

From a shining brown to grey. But those days have vanished, and I

Would not call them back to mind; Her dear smile is bright as ever,

And her voice as sweet and kind. And a form is kneeling by her,

Even as I kneel by thee, Watching dreamily the firelight

As it dances cheerily.

LOVE that exists on the die of beauty is very apt to have ague fits.

We increase in wealth by lessening our desires. A KISS is worth a thousand kicks.

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