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The father was a secret man; at best

His breast was a closed temple free for noneOft on a sudden he would leave his rest

At the hour of dead night, and sigh alone
His anguish to the moon, when overprest

With listless wretchedness, and sleep had gone
Scared by the recollection too severe
Of blighted love and her who once was dear.
And he'd steal back and gaze upon his son,

Who lay en wrapt in slumber, till a tear
Fell on the unconscious youth'twould be but one-

His pride forbade a second to appear :
And to the black deep forest he would run

Till the grey dawn recalld him to his sear And leafy couch-none knew his path but he, Or shared the stolen hours of his grief's luxury. Now Valentine one day had chased a deer

A long and weary distance from his cave, Aud come upon an open country, clear

Of wood and thicket, where the sight was brave
And boldly beautiful, while far and near

Lay cultured fields on which rich harvests wave
In a wide golden sweep, and haunts of men,
Which ignorant Valentine ne'er saw till then.
He mark'd the grey smoke from a chimney rising

Of a white cottage, which look'd strange and new,
The walls and windows were to him surprising,

Of men not one appear'd before his view;
He stood stock still, conjecturing and surmising

What could have raised them with such skill, and who
Might be the creatures domiciled within
Such curious shelters from the wild storm's din.
Were they like bim, in shape and colour fair!

Had they legs, feet, arms, hands and heads, or wings
To waft them in the blue serene of air?

Or were they strange and shapeless forms of things
Like he had dream'd of, demi-man and bear,

Fish joined to fowl, or like imaginings
Which he once had of beings in the sun,
In shape like trees, deer-legg'd to walk or run?
Were they scaled over like a crocodile,

Or feather'd like an eagle -Thus he mused
Till fear came on him, lest by strength or guile

He be assailed, kill'd outright, or abused.
Homeward he went, and then began to while

His time with new conjectures, nor refused
To admit absurdities that none but one
In such strange ignorance rear'd could e'er have done:
And entered in the forest, I will say

A hundred yards; the evening cool and fine
Was reddening into death through bough and spray

From the west heaven, bright glorious in its shine;
And he was stepping homeward hastily,
When rich sounds broke upon

his ear-divine In holiness of music, soft but clear, And not of earthly seeming to his ear.

They rose and fell in gushes, as the sound

of the wind-spirit's harp upon the breeze; Now dying like the twilight when around

The purple light goes darkling by degrees :
Now mounting high the lofty notes rebound

In melody's full thunder, prompt to seize
On the last hold of passion, raise, subdue,
Or thrill through every vein with rapture new.
Valentine stopp’d, struck by the hidden spell,

And the sweet influence of that witchery;
Then, confident that danger could not dwell

Where issued such delicious harmony, He cautious stole toward a little dell

Whence it proceeded, and behind a tree
He stood and gazed from whence the notes had come
He gazed, and was struck motionless and dumb.
He saw two creatures such as his free thought

Had never pictured in a seraph blest
With heaven's own beauty,- for he had been taught

To think there was a heaven where he should rest
After life's journey finish’d, and had wrought

Bright fancies of each glory and each guest
That did inhabit there was only earth
Of which he'd been in ignorance from his birth.
But all he'd painted in imagination

Of forms and beings, he now saw outdone:
His heart beat quick, but still he kept his station,

Fix'd as a Phidian statue carved in stone
And looking mute attention-no cessation

His gaze allow'd itself, he scem'd alone
To breathe for vision, and alone to be
Created for one single end-to see.
One of these forms of loveliness was tall,

And seem'd beneath the dark green shade to be
A dream of light; her hand and arm were small,

And with their alabaster, clasp'd a tree
In her reclining; her rich hair, let fall

Over her low full shoulders, to her knee
In fine light ringlets reach'd-her eyes were blue,
Her cheek transparent the blood tinted through.
She smiled on a companion seated low

Upon a flowery hillock—a brunette
With raven locks that waved in graceful flow

Over her skin voluptuous, stouter set
In form, but symmetry itself; a glow

Of fascination round her black eyes met,
As round the charm'd ones of the basilisk,
And not less dangerous to dare their risk.
The blue eyes look'd all languor, faith and love,

Meekness and truth, confiding purity-
The black were of the earth, and seem'd to prove

A temperament inore passionate and high ;
The blue seem'd heavenly, as from above

Looking down hope of mercy—the black eye Inspired a confidence that long’d to say, “ Be mine, and I am thine eternally."

What wonder the youth stood like one bereft

Of corporal existence! Never fear Intruded on him, though alone and left

So near strange beings;- but it was not clear
What was his feeling, for divided, cleft

Into amaze, and something haply near
The mystic power that links the soul of man
To female loveliness—he could not scan-
He could not picture it: but to our tale-

The beauteous creatures rose, and suddenly
Departed from that spot home to the vale

Where they were born and dwelt; the youth each eye Alternate rubbed. Was he awake? appeal

He made to memory successfully,
That he had toil'd in hunting all the day,
And the sun only now had stolen away.
And it was not a vision! Then he gazed

After those beings, where they just had been,
Till his eyes ached intently, and amazed,

As a son looks to where he just has seen
His father's spirit-but he still was pleased

When he reflected on the enchanting scene-
For he had never thought that things so fair
Inhabited on earth or lived in air.
Valentine told his anxious, waiting sire

The sights he witness'd, asking what they were,
Those strange and lovely beings ;---to enquire

Was natural; but the sire would not declare
The truth to his young ear; but with desire

To hold him safe within deception's spare,
Said, “ They were fairy beings, born and bred
In the sun's orb, where they at sunset fled ;-
" That they were foes, the direst man e'er saw,

That led him to destruction, smiled to kill,
Allured but to betray; obey'd no law,
Nor faith, nor honour; while their every

will Was false and hollov, and their art would draw

Him, their sought victim, to perdition's ill
Unless he Aed them, for their voice was death,
Their eyes kill'd peace, poison was in their breath."
Valentine, scarcely credulous, then said, -

“ Evil is even good, if such betray; They are the loveliest creatures ever head

Dream'd into life ideal ; fancy's play
They mock to scorn. Father, these fairies shed

Upon my heart strange feelings ; I'll away
If I can flec, should they descend again ;
Would they were meet companions for us men !”-
“ How sweet this wild wood and this cave would be,

I can't help thinking either,” Valentine
Whisper'd to his young bosom secretly,

Yet check'd himself, as fearing to repine,
Or doubt his parent's caution—" is with me

They dwelt, or sat under the shady vine,
The thick wild vine that spreads above us here ;-
Yet 'ris a wish too dangerous I fear !"

Here I must close abruptly. If he went

Another glance at these fair forms to steal ;
If he, despite his father, ever sent

A sigh towards them, I'll not now reveal :-
'Tis likely that he did not rest content,

And in the woods for life his limbs conceal,
For they were manly, made for woman's eye :-
The sequel shall be coming by and by.

L.

LETTER FROM MISS INDIGO AT WORTHING, TO HER FRIEND

MISS MARIA LOUISA MAZARINE IN LONDON.

“I know very well that those who are commonly called learned women, have lost all manner of credit by their impertinent talkativeness and conceit of themselves ;--it is a wrong method and ill choice of books that makes them just so much the worse for what they have read." Swift's Letter to a Young Lady.

Ah! my dearest Maria Louisa! you who are still enjoying at the Institution the lectures of the most elegant of all professors; you who twice a week have an opportunity of witnessing his ingenious experiments in pneumatics, aerostatics, and hydrostatics, while he explains all the different 'ologies of the alphabet, from anthology to zoology! you who are, perhaps, at this moment inhaling the gas of nitrous oxide or gas of paradise, how do I envy you your sensations and associations ! Most joyfully do I sit down to perform my promise of writing an account of my journey to Worthing, not to indulge in the frivolous tittle-tattle to which so many of our sex are addicted, but to attempt a scientific journal worthy of our studies, and of the opportunities afforded by our constant attendance at so many of the learned lectures in London. Nothing occurred on the road worthy of particular mention: the indications of the barometer, the mean temperature of the thermometer, and the contents of the pluviometer, will be found in the tables which we have agreed to interchange weekly. In the meadows through which we occasionally passed, I observed several fine specimens of the mammalia class of quadrupeds, such as the bos taurus, or common ox; the ovis aries, of Linnæus, or sheep; the equus caballus, or horse; the asinus, or ass, both Jenny and Jack; and the caprea hircus, or common goat, both Billy and Nanny. By-the-by these vulgar methods of discriminating genders are very unscientific, and may often lead to mistakes. Learned language cannot be too precise.

In the hedges, I recognised some curious flowers, particularly the bellis, of the order polygamia superflua, vulgò the daisy; the cardamine, to which Shakspeare has given the vulgar name of the lady's smock; the caltha, or marigold, with its radiated discous flower, to which the lower orders assign a coarser appellation ; culverkeys, mentioned in Walton's Angler; mithridate mustard, or charlock; the primula, or primrose ; violets, you (remember Shakspeare's sweet lines

« Violets dim,
But sweeter than the lids of Juno's cyes,

Or Cytherea's breath ;'') lolium and fumaria, or darnel and fumatory, ingredients in the wreath of the broken-hearted Ophelia ; together with several fine specimens of the carduus, or common thistle.

On our arrival at Worthing, we dined with our friends the Tomkins family, where we had the scapula of the ovis, or a shoulder of mutton, with a sauce of macerated cepe, two birds of the gallinaceous tribe served with sisymbriune, or water-cresses, and the customary vegetables of brassica, lactuca, and spinacia, through none of which the aqueous fluid had been sufficiently allowed to percolate. There was also soup which retained so considerable a portion of caloric, that it scalded my palatic epidermis, and the piper nigrum, or black pepper, with which it was seasoned occasioned a very unpleasant degree of titillation in the whole of the oral region. In the afternoon, the water in the kettle not having been raised to 212 of Fahrenheit, or that point at which evaporation commences, the thea viridis, or green tea, formed an imperfect decoction, in which state, I believe, its diaphoretic qualities are injurious, Mrs, Tomkins declared she never drank any thing herself but the simple element; but I informed her that if she meant water, it was by no means a simple element, but compounded of oxygen and hydrogen; and I availed myself of this opportunity for instructing her that atmospheric air is also a mixture, containing about seventy-three parts of azotic, and twenty-seven of oxygen gas, at which the ignorant creature only exclaimed, “Well, I have seen myself a good many red gashes across the sky, particularly at sunset.” She was dressed in a gown woven from the filaments of the phalæna bombyr, or silkworm, dyed in a red tincture of the small insect called coccus ilicis by Linnæus, which is found on the bark of the quercus coccifera. By way of changing the conversation, which was turning upon Miss T-'s proficiency in music, I asked her, in allusion to the geological controversy, whether she preferred the Vulcanian or the Neptunian systems, when the silly girl replied with a stare that she had not heard either of the tunes !!

But, my dearest Maria Louisa, I may confess to you, that I am daily more and more horrified by the sad blunders of mamma, who has not, like us, received the benefits of scientific instruction, and yet,

while she sits at the window knitting, will every now and then catch a word which she fancies she understands, and betray the most pitiable ignorance in her attempts to join the conversation.

For instance, while I was this morning explaining to Miss Tomkins the difference between hydrogen and oxygen, she exclaimed, without taking her eyes from her work, Well, it's a liquor I never taste myself, but in my time Booth’s was reckoned the best gin.” We had been visiting a house in which I complained of an unpleasant empyreuma ; “Child !" cried mamma, “I think an empty room a very unpleasant thing certainly, but you may depend upon it, there was not one in the whole house." While I was maintaining that bismuth and cobalt were different ores, she imagined in her imperfect hearing, and still more deficient comprehension, that I was talking of the two London coaches, and added with a nod, "Yes, my dear, they start at different hours, the Sidmouth at six in the morning, and the Cobourg at eight in the evening.". After dinner, I took occasion to observe that cheese was obtained from curd by separating the whey by expression, when she told me there was no way of expression, no, not all the talking in the world, that would ever make cheese!! Alluding to a short essay I had written upon the reflection of light, she interrupted me by desiring I would not indulge in light reflections, as I should be only subjecting myself to similar remarks from others; and

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