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wonderful art; it adds elasticity to the cleared and a hole is made where the bright gait by creating a modest confidence in rays penetrate, and the illumination of the one's own power infinitely superior to brute soul commences; and as the compressure strength. Witness the influence a power- which weighed it down is raised, so does the fully cultivated mind has on inferior ones; body gain an erect position, and education it can quell disturbance-by the force of its glories in the transformation she has eloquence and sway, as a boat is swayed by effected. the waves-in the public mind; it makes and Viewing the comparative influence ignoholds a position for itself and is the founda- rance and education have on the mind, what tion-stone on which improvement is built. energetic endea ours should we employ Ignorance is a mole which undermines the to close the do ir tightly against the former, hardest earth, counteracting the beneficial and pursue with unswerving resolution the influence rained on us by education; like the latter, which raises us above ourselves, and mole, it is blind and its coat is so thick as to produces wi hin us a means of unsurpassable be impervious to the sharpest instrument. enjoyment, making us in the fulness of our The greatest fortune that can arrive to it heart ejaculate, “ Knowledge is rower!" is a sunstroke, when the dense smoke is
BOOKS WORTH READING.
OUR illustration appears in a work | secret lover. Echard was a soldier, and entitled " The Six Sisters of the Valley : the adopted son of the marquis; and he an Historical Romance;" by the Rev. W. was called upon by the marquis, and by Bramley Moore, and published by the the ecclesiastics in that ciamber of Messrs. Longmans. The first edition was horrors, to perform the slight penance of issued in three volumes, but it is now turning the handle of that rack upon the published in a cheaper and more popular covered form, who is represented to be an formn.
old woman who could not live long, and The argument of “The Six Sisters of who could not, therefore, receive much the Valley" is founded upon incontro- harm, on pain of being put on the rack vertible facts. Its scenes are laid in the himself. But Echard nobly refuses. He valleys and mountains of the Alps; and would, he said, be tortured himself, the story exhibits, in the most glowing rather than torturé another, whether she colours, the fearful persecutions of the was old or young. It was in vain that he Vandois by Rome's ready agent, the Duke was urged to the foul deed; he would of Savoy, in the year 1655. Fire and neither obey the Church nor the general. sword so effectuallly did their work in Enraged at his refusal, the marquis draws these fearful valleys, that only a remnant his sword, which, after being wounded, of its inhabitants escaped; and they took Echard wrests from him, and, in the refuge in the fortresses of the Alps. The struggle which ensued, the former work more especially refers to the perse- stretches out his hand to grasp something cutions of one family - six brothers, who for his support, and seizes the cloth had married six sisters, all of whom had which the munk Malvicono, who stands numerous children, and who lived toge- beside the rack, bad cast over the figure. ther on one estate in peace and harmony. Both stood aghast at the sight. It was Ardoine, who lies stretched on that rack, not a withered hug, but a girl young and is one of that happy family, exposed to beautiful, with golden locks, and exprestorture because she refused to become a sive countenance. She was unknown to convert to the Romish Church. Of the Pianesse, but she was known to Echard; cavaliers who are struggling with each it was the prostrate form of his loved other, the one is the Marquis of Piavesse, one, Ardoine. It is a touching picture and the other Echard, who had been which the reverend author has drawn of converted by Arduine, and who was her this terrible scene in this chamber of horrors ; and the whole work is replete deepest interest. It is a book which will with such pictures. There may be a high be widely read, and generally admired; colouring given to scenes, events, and and we are glad to see it brought out in a characters; but as they are drawn from form which will place it within the reach incontrovertible facts, they are of the l of the million.
Croquet. By Edmund Routledge.
book ; and taught, too, in an agreeable
and understandable manner. Routledge's This fashionable game has been ex. “Sixpenny Hand-books" comprise Treaceedingly well described by Mr. Edmund tises on Chess, Draughts, Whist, and Routledge, who will in future be consi- Billiards, by G. F. Pardon; Swimming, dered the Hoyle of Croquet. All that is Gymnastics, Cricket, Manly Games, by Decessary to be taught is taught in this Stonehenge, the Rev. W. Wood, E. Routcompact and well-printed little hand- ledge, and other well-known writers
A LONG and delightful visit was draw- My mind was dwelling upon the poetic ing to a close, when one morning, shortly fancies so beautifully expressed in that after the six-o'clock bells had rang the hour, wondrous production of a boy-poet, I started for a solitary walk from Warwick “Queen Mab," and as I walked along I to the site of the cell where the hermit-mused upon the spirit-revelations of the hero Guy ended his days; now occupied past, present, and future. The trees that by the mansion of the Percies.
bordered the hedgerows appeared dimly VOL. VI.-NEW SERIES.
through the white morning mist, which, the still brighter glory of the sun's enveloping everything, favoured my spec-refulgent beams; but I never saw Guy's tral fancies more than anything else could Cliff as I saw it that morning, with the have done. There were few people astir keen morning air tingling my veins, and at that early morning hour, and in unin-Aushing my cheeks, and the creeping terrupted solitude I reached the avenue shades of the mist hanging like guardian that fronts the house at Guy's Cliff. angels over the falls.
The stone masonry of the mansion, I tried to imagine a romantic tale with the gleam of statuary amidst beds with a miller's lovely daughter for the of scarlet and blue, appeared dimly at the heroine, but even though I got so far as far end, and through the twisted arms of to see a lovely face with a halo of the trees overhead and amongst the golden hair floating upon the waters, sleeping branches glided the ghostly mist the incident seemed too common-place. in spiral, wreathlets-like, spectral shades, Then I dreamed of Guy and his fair guarding the fabulous mystery of the Frelicia, until my spirit became imbued past; manes of departed spirits re-visit- with the past, and cowled monks glided ing the haunts of their life-time.
beneath the shades of the trees; and the As I turned thoughtfully, and walked spirit-music of their services trembled in onwards, the spirit of silence seemed to the air. Was it fancy alone that wrought have stolen the sound from my foot-falls, an ethereal form out of the water-spray so deep was the stilness that reigned and the midst that hung over the fall ? around, but as I proceeded the low boom Certainly it grew dream-like upon my of falling water grew gradually upon my vision, the white foam curling in snowy ear, and I turned down the lane to the drapery at the spirit-feet, and I heard a milí, feeling no longer alone, though still silver-toned voice above the boom of the no animal life presented itself. I stayed falling water. to watch the turning of the huge mill- “Frail mortal, why speculate upon the wheel and the fall of a million crystal secrets of the past ? surely the present drops, wondering at the mossy vegetable and the future afford ample scope for the life the action of the water produced upon energies with which you are gifted; nay, the stones : surely one needs not look far Deeds, demands them.” for the spirit of poetry, the very air we Reader, have you ever shrunk with a breathe, the ground we tread on, the nameless dread from the invisible future, water we drink, could furnish the most dallying in the present, dreaming of the wonderful subjects for the sweetest bard past? If so, you may guess the spirit in that ever sung.
which I had set forth tbat morning. But to dream over the water-wheel was Incidents had occurred that raked up old not the object of my walk, and turning 1 memories, the remembrance of weak. saw with a thrill of delight the dancing nesses I had long since thought confoam on the waters, incontestible proof quered, and I drended to go forth to grasp that the water was falling over the the shadowy hand of the future. It was fletcher. Close to the fall, the stem of a a season of vanquished bravery all mus willow-tree stretches partly over the water feel at times, for who that has cherished from the bank, here was my seat; under a wild dream in their childhood, allowing the shade of the heavily-foliaged trees it to grow with their growth, and above, Guy's Cliff House, rising like some strengthen with their strength, can boast dream fabrication in the distance through of its accomplishment? Our life's teaching the silver mist, the sheet of water inter. requires that it should be otherwise. Then vening with a single swan, like a huge bravely as une may step forwards, taking snowball, sleeping on its transparent and accomplishing each duty as it comes surface, and the music of the fall ringing there are times when the spirit sinks, and in my ears.
the wearied mind refuses the stimulating I have occupied that seat, or the spur, when life seems a burden, and we bench under the willows, when the moon blindly wish for death. As we grow older fung its golden light upon the water, in we become harnessed, as it were, to the daily round of duties; their monotony the mansion with the morning sun gleammakes them welcome. We crave and care ing upon its windows, the old grey mill, for less change; but, oh! the harnessing ! and departed with the echo of the fall Happy the spirit whose equanimity, is ringing in my years-ever, ever! certain, who, though it does not enjoy Is it possible to look up to heaven any of the sublime flights of the more without catching somewhat of its subgifted, is at least safe from the abysses of limity! Can one contemplate eternity despondency so common to the latter. without experiencing the expansiveness
The water rippled over the fletcher and of soul engendered by such thoughts? fell. The spray sprang into my face, and who shall say that the Spirit of the Fall the silver voice sang
had not caused the bounding hghtness of “I have seen generations come and go. my step as I sped homewards, nor the I have seen the babe grow into the man, bright eyes that betokened the light and the man become grey and ripe for heart with which I set to the duties of the sickle of death Season after season the day! To those who object to the has renewed the foliage on these banks, fancifulness of my sketch, let me say that and they are ever alike to me. In the by the spirit I meant but to embody the contemplation of the march of time, what the idea of the waterfall. are mortals and their petty thoughts and
MAGGIE SYMINGTON. feelings! What are the griefs of those who died a hundred years ago to you? What will yours be a hundred years
AIM IN LIFE. hence! Revelling in the blessed con- We were pleasantly seated, some halfsciousness of immortality, what will seem a-dozen of us, towards the close of one the trivial joys and sorrows of this cold November evening, round the blazexistence! They are wise who, with their ing dining-room fire of the ladies eyes fixed stearifastly upon that future, working, the gentlemen looking on, adwalk forwards with their hopes anchored miring our industry, occasionally teasing upon the great Spirit of Life. Faith is us, or bandying witticisms with each sublime! Dependency glorious !" other; thus keeping our risible faculties
The colour leaped to my face, the tears in constant play, and making cheerfulness to my eyes.
the order of the hour. “Oh ! blessed spirit, teach me resign- Not that we had been long thus occument, meekness to trust, and courage to pied, for games of all kinds had beld us, not go forwards with unshrinking steps." unwillingly, captive. Only a glance at our
The misty shade rose hovering over the old-fashioned, square oak table, would infalls.
stantly bespeak our former occupation; “ Draw your sunshine from whence scraps of paper being indiscriminately mine falls, ouly from Heaven. Lean on bestrewed thereon, with small pencils, the blessed hope vouchsafed only to some pointless, others rather dilapidated, mortals, which we spirits can but recog. from having been applied to the lips, nise and worship. Even as I sing, ever, with the seeming vain idea of sucking ever grasp the knowledge of eternity, and thoughts into their tips. hold fast to it as the drowning mariner to Papers with hieroglyphical characters the plank, it will make small troubles traced upon them were seen; some with vanish and great ones less; live but to die. nonsensical rhyme, squared words, quotaCast perplexities over your shoulder ; go tions met by and rhymed with other forth hoping."
quotations, a brain-racking puzzle. I buried my face in my hands. There sequences had been tried, from which was more moisture on my face than that no serious corisequences accrued, but occasioned by the spray from the falls. such as to call forth occasional fits of fun, As I lifted it a sunbeam darted forth; laughter, and frolicsome mirth; pleasing the mist vanished, and the spirit was paradoxes had last employed us, till we gone.
all professed ourselves tired of “a feast I looked my last upon the falling water, lof reason,” so throwing pencil from hand,