the dew-drop, when the morning sun flew, and calling on the name of shines upon it. "Now tell me, fair daughter,”said the holy man. "What aileth thee? and what is the cause of thy mourning? that I may administer to thee the consolations of religion, and restore thy soul to peace." The maiden answered not; but stedfastly gazed on him in unbroken silence. "Since then," continued the Father," thou refusest to reveal the cause of thy sorrows, I will draw a bow at a venture, if haply it may be successful. Have the authors of thy being, been taken from thee? And are thy father and mother no more? Yet mourn not as one without hope; for the Lord will take thee up. Thou shalt be admitted among the neighbouring sisterhood. They will rejoice to receive thee to their habitation; and if thou continuest faithful, thou wilt find also a place in their hearts."-Still she replied not,still she gazed on in unbroken silence. "Have then," proceeded the Father, "the blasts of calumny withered thy fame? Yet abandon not thyself to woe: if innocent thy record is on high, and the reward of thy suffering shall be glorious. If unhappily deserving the censure of men, then grieve for thy folly; but be encouraged, for the Deity is far more ready to forgive thy aberrations, than a severe and ungenerous world." Still she replied not-still she gazed fixedly on him, in unbroken silence; and again her bosom heaved with a sigh, which in its struggle to escape renewed her agitation and her tears. HAFEZ! April, 1827. MODESTIA. 'A MA GRAMMAIRE. Tu amuse avec utilité Je ne sais s'il est avengle ou borgne, But once more did the Father strive to ascertain the cause of her sorrows; for his benevolent heart longed to administer the needful consolation. "Hath then,"-continued he, "the beloved of thy soul, the youth of thy choice, proved false, and deceptive as the mirage of the desert ?"-Ah! he had now touched the right chord and it instantly vibrated; for the damsel, as the words were falling from his lips, had disentangled herself from his embrace; and springing from the spot where they sat, she darted like the roe from the pursuit of the hunter, into an adjoining thicket; shrieking as she Falmouth, April 1827. A. BROKEN-VOWS. (MIRROR.) -Thus I weave myself Into this willow garland-and am prouder Than bride to any other." THERE is in the neighbourhood of the Metropolis, a little cottage, built in that style so fashionable at present in England-combining all the elegancies of life with an affectation of excelling simplicity. This affectation, however attaches not to the present inmates of the dwelling-for a more truly simple, estimable and virtuous family it is not easy to find about London, There is one member of the household in particular, who has frequently attracted the attention of the casual lingerers around the place, This magnet has been set in the form of a young girl, about eighteen or nineteen years of age, with something, perhaps, rather too finished-too perfect in her siyle of feature and figure for a subarban cottage beauty. She was a few months since to be seen at all hours of the day, through the vines that clustered around the low parlour window, seated at her tambour-frame-her hair sometimes clustering about her temples-sometimes nursed in paper, like the half-ripened-grapes that hung around her at all times surpassingly beautiful. She is now, however, seldom to be seen-and not seen such as she then was. The cottage, vines, and improvements, are precisely the same, but the window is now always let down, and the tambour-frame has been removed from its old place to a darker corner of the apartment. The little deity of the retreat is no longer visible at least, to the nameless pilgrims who used to offer distant worship as they passed slowly along the railing in front of the abode, and these have become fewer and less punctual in their visitations. But at the gray of the morn-and towards the even close -you may observe, gliding along the silent alleys and beautiful wooded lanes with which the neighbourhood abounds a light attenuated figure, wrapped in a silk cloak, leghorn bonnet, and veil, the ghost of the beauty that was. It is time, however, I should say something of the causes which have led to this change, and give a name as well as a local habitation to the fair cottage dweller. Antiphila she should be--but that's "such a hard word!" as lady Froth says. Well, then, let my heroine be Helen precisely because she was most unlike that naughty ancient in character and fortune. She was induced to believe, (whether with or without reason having the fear of Chalk Farm and best glazed before my eyes, I shall not undertake to say,) but she imagined at one time, that little more than the license lay between her and the head of my young friend Darvell's table. And although he and lady P-T—, (a match the most unforeseen of all that were ever made) are now beyond honeymoon on the banks of the Boorempooter, or some such place in foreign parts, I am inclined to imagine that some idea of the kind frequently, mingled itself up with his contemplation. The first I learned of his acquaintance with this Miss Helen, was on the occasion of his taking leave of her previous to his departure, which took place on the very day and hour of his marriage with lady P. -. Darvell was then precisely in that situation of life, which more than all others presents the most powerful temptations, to gentlemen at all predisposed to behave like scoundrels. He was a needy member of a noble house. I had just laid down the morning paper in which I found an announcement of his approaching ma riage, and an India appointment, when he dashed into my room, and, throwing himself into a sedia d'apoggio, began to indicate symptoms of boring; which, however, [ cut short by two or three rapid queries, a plan which I have always found efficacious on similar occasions. Darvell is one of those who are brave only in the field, or so far as their persons are concerned. He wants, le courage de la societé-a kind of civil bravery, which, as the world goes, is more generally useful in the concerns of life than the military. I saw at this moment that there was something on his mind which he wished to get rid of, "Indeed," answered I, "then it appears that she is one of the people who fancy that a promise was made." Why," said Darvell, a little staggered, "there's no knowing what she may have taken into her head. We talked and walked together, and said a deal of nonsense between us-but promise!-no-I know I made no promise-'Gad!-these girls-there's no saying a word to them without a sharp look-out for man-traps. If you hand one of them out in preference to her mother, she sets it down as a plain intimation; and if you venture any thing in the shape of a compliment, you are set down at once for a good orderly husband, or a treacherous villain. No-no-I am sure nobody can say I was ever particular. There was no promise-could not be-seeing me still motionless] in fact it would have been the most imprudent thing in the world on my part.-[Pause; and a glance, as if he expected a nod of assent, which was not forthcoming]In short I am determined to break off all such silly suppositions-and I hope you don't suppose Suppose -Me-I have no right to suppose any thing. I am sure-I dare say, it is all very proper." "And if you did suppose, it would be too late now; for I have signed and sealed." "Has this young lady any natural protectors?" I asked. A flush passed over Darvell's cheek, and the family estates and the family honours all gathered together upon bis proud forehead to build up a frown. And she had a legion," said he, "my conduct would be precisely the same as it shall be; except, perhaps, that it might not be marked by the same tenderness, and respect for the feelings, however unreasonably excited, of the girl." "Then she has none?" "She lives with her father." Well, I am sure you must be acting very honourably, and am ready to serve you as far as I can." "Then step into my cab, and come with me to the spot. I am no great Nol Bluffe on these occasions, and require something more than right on my side to withstand the artillery of blue eyes in sorrow." We drove away, and soon arrived at the place. As we pulled up at the little gate, a number of sunny faces presented themselves at the window, and disappeared again like a fluttered dove-cote at the sight of my friend, whom (I should have mentioned) they had seen nothing of for a considerable time. In an instant the door was opened, and two very young girls, with one (the lady in question) a little more staid and full formed, made their appearance, all beaming welcome from the prettiest lips and eyes in the world. There was a tenderness in Miss Helen's manner of greeting Darvell which led me to suspect very strongly, that his conduct to her had been more particular than he seemed willing to to allow. She placed one hand in his, and laid the other on his shoulder, looking in his face with an expression which seemed to call for a more affectionate greeting on his part, than he would, under the circumstances, have been justified in using Without seeming to caress, he took her hand hurriedly from his shoulder, placed it under his arm, aud led her quickly into the house. On following him into the parlour, I found the father, an old, feeble whiteheaded gentleman, who was unable to move from his chair to accost us, and seemed, indeed almost unconscious of the cause of our presence, even after, (during the absence of the family)Darvell had gone into a long detail about the rumours afloat, and the circumstances of his new engagement. "I dare say 'tis all very right, gentlemen," said the poor old man, "Helen is a good girl. I dare say you will do every thing that is proper, Mr. Darvell." I glanced at Darvell in a manner that was intended for, and taken as, a reproach. He felt too much abashed to resent the action. He left the room, in order, as he said, to speak with the young lady herself. She was entering at the moment he reached the door; and he took her hand, and led her out -while she gazed with astonishment and concern on his countenance. In a little time afterwards, I heard a low murmuring of voices in the next room; and, presently a quick pattering of feet running to and fro, as if some accident had taken place. What that accident was, I suspected, but never could sufficiently ascertain-for, in a very short time, Darvell re-entered the apartment, where I sat. He took a hurried leave of the old man, and ran out of the house as if he thought it would have fallen about his ears. As long as we remained within sight of the cottage, he observed a heavy silence. At length, when the last faint trace of the dwelling had faded in the distance, he turned round, and began to relieve his mind," oppressed with too much thinking," by giving utterance to a number of detached and incoherent sentences: "I did not think," said he, "that it was possible I could ever cut so mean a figure in my own eyes as I did this minute.... What a sweet-quietpeaceful blessed place that little cottage is!....That girl is the most perfect being on the round earth.... Ah, my dear friend-how happy might I be, if.... Pish! what's o'clock? I sha'n't be in Leadenhall-street in time to pass muster." Darvell was right in saying, that he cut a mean figure on the occasion; for I found since, that, after the first shock was over, the lady not only abstained from all reproach or entreaty, but placed within his hands a packet of papers, (of what nature I don't pretend to say,) which he had the manliness and generosity to put in his breeches' pocket Ile has, to be sure, gained considerably by his breach of faith, (for I cannot but think there was something of the kind in question.) He is now scorching beneath a Calcutta sun, with an ugly, ill-tempered, and fut (Bengal! think of that !) lady; and yet I scarcely can believe, that he is much happier than he might have been in this paradise, and in the love of the little beauty, who is now pining away the remnant of her still life among the "Dingles and bushy dells of these wild woods." TO ZEPHYR. Mild Zephyr o'er the verdant grove, If e'er deep plaints have reach'd thine ear, Louisa once my fondness knew I hide the pang that rends my breast. O go,--and yon refulgent Sun, "Yes," said I, ekeing out the apostrophe which he had left unfinished, "if you did not, like all sanguine and unexperienced men, prefer the hope of what most likely will never be, to the certainty of what is." It is strange -it is wonderful to what vile uses the noblest capabilities of our nature may return, when once this murderous ambition has shook her maddening dew upon our souls. Honour fades-virtue withers before it-peace dies-and hope itself is no longer felt as a healthy influence, but a restless, feverish, and April, 1827. And where thou wav'st thy airy wing, No chilling rains will patter there; No driving hail deform thy Spring! Go, sigh my sorrows, GENTLE AIR! PEDRO. THE HOUSE ON THE MOORS. nocent gratification to himself and his (By Mrs. Hofland.) "A wounded spirit who can bear.” A YEAR or two before the death of Lord John M***** in 1787, he built a house on the borders of his Yorkshire estate, where it skirts the high moors of Derbyshire, intended to unite with the characteristic conveniences of a farm to which it was attached, that of a place of public entertainment. The idea was a good one; for, as the house stood high and in a lonely place, it might serve as a beacon to the benighted traveller in that mountainous country, and could scarcely fail of being at times a welcome resting-place to numerous petty farmers, condemned to carry their produce for many a wearisome mile where human habitation never cheered their view, to the first populous town which offered them a market. It will be evident that a house of this description was more likely to be beneficial to him who occasionally used it, than profitable to him who kept it; and although it was within a short distance of a manufacturing district, and in a manner surrounded by collieries, many circumstances combined to render it improbable that it should ever become that bane of society, a popular public-house; and the respectable couple who were placed in it, were evidently of a description to forbid, rather than encourage, the visits of the idle spendthrift and the dissolute tippler. The man was considered an excellent farmer, and the woman a good manager, of which evidence was given in the appearance of all around them; since, notwithstanding the bleak situation and the stone fences, every thing looked in a thriving state, and within their dwelling there was an air of comfort and propriety, which denoted industry and taste. Every room possessed one attractive elegance, being decorated with choice plants; for the landlord understood gardening, and finding that the bleak winds from the high moors forbade the cultivation of Aowers in his garden, supplied this in wife, by choice myrtles and gay geraniums. I well remember him as a handsome man of three or four and thirty, who was always seen at church, well dressed, with a sprig in his buttonhole, accompanied by a little girl, who wore a gay bonnet, and a long dimity cloak, as white as snow, on whom he often cast looks of tenderness and pride. She was, indeed, a lovely child, his first-born and his darling. But the time came, when the landlord of the " Rising Sun" ceased to occupy his seat at church, to saunter about his door when the hours of labour were over, and (what excited still more attention in so industrious a man) to rise with the lark, and partake the toils of a plough boy. He sat in silence on one seat, and when roused by the reiterated demands of his temporary guests, would start as from the reverie of the studious, or the slumbers of the lethargic. The chance passenger would naturally condemn the lazy landlord, who sat in apparent stupor, as an inebriated sluggard; but the unhappy wife and the curious neighbour alike knew that he was at this time temperate to abstemiousness; that his manly form was wasted, his ruddy complexion changed to cadaverous paleness, because all appetite had forsaken him, and that his nights were subject to a restlessness which medicine could not quell, entreaty sooth, nor resolution control. Hay time and harvest passed unnoticed by the once active farmer; and the wife, reduced almost to despair by the melancholy supineness of her husband, became unable to avert the ruin which hang around her. Their guests forsook the house; their servants deserted it; and the neighbours moved to compassion, or excited by curiosity, busied themselves with investigating the cause of a change so entire and so unaccountable. They recollected, that, although sober in his habits and orderly in his conduct, the landlord was wont to sing a hunting song and tell a merry tale to the circle he liked; but it was also certain that he was both proud and passionate to others; that he had an aversion te |