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smoked, and gambled, and fought. Never was tavern “In my plan to overthrow Simon Morris, to place more disorderly, more riotous. Formed of huge logs | Paolo in his place.” of wood, it was only kept from being burned by great And Paolo assumed one of his most ferocious looks, precautions on the part of Mother Meg, the old woman “I am willing,” said Smith, after a pause. who kept it.
“Good !” exclaimed Paolo; then listen. Am I It had a bar-room, a parlour, a garden, and, at the not beaten out ? ” bottom of this garden, a small cave scooped out in the “Certainly." rock, where the head men of the band met of an • Might I not naturally be son-in-law ? ' evening
“Quite possibly." Two persons sat in it on the evening of the day of “And what more natural than for the son-in-law to the brigantine's return.
succeed his father-in-law ? One of these men was a Spaniard, the other an Eng. “Quite natural.” lishman. The Spaniard was Paolo, the lieutenant of “We have first to marry the daughter, and then the pirate crew. The Englishman was Smith, the car- kill the father,"continued Paolo. penter.
“Exactly,” said Smith, with a look of stupid admiPaolo was a yourg man. He looked more than ration. thirty, but he was hardly so much. Crime, debauchery, “I have made up my mind these two years," added and vice, had set their seal upon him. He had been a the ruffian; “ but I waited my time. It is come. pirate since the age of fifteen, and for six years had Genevieve is a lovely young woman. Simon Morris been second in command. No inward monitor drew has brought us to the verge of ruin. The daughter him from his trade. He revelled in it. The battle, is marriageable—the father is killable. We must now the struggle, the capture of prizes, the booty, the spend. act." ing it on women and wine, were to him the pleasures
“ We!” of existence. Daring, cruel, and audacious, he kept "Exactly. You will kill the father; I shall marry the worst crew in order, and his ascendancy was so the daughter. I can't do both.” great that Simon Morris was compelled to keep him in “I kill Simon Morris !” said the carpenter, with his rank of lieutenant, despite his dislike for the man. a look of alarm. Paolo had gained his position at first by the most con- “What are you afraid of? You will have backers summate hypocrisy. He had devoted himself like a enough. Bill Smith, Jacopo, Andrè, Joe Potts, Abraslave to Simon Morris, had watched him, and soughtham Levi, and a dozen others, will be behind. Rely on to please bim by every subtle and cunning art. Once it, the danger is imaginary. I must be behind, to come installed in his rank, he had shown so much energy
and thus secure audacity, that he had made himself necessary.
the thanks of Jenny. Smith, the carpenter, was a sly, droll, sneaking fel- “But I'd rather let Bill Smith do it," said the carlow, with a dull, stupid look, which generally deceived penter, shaking his head; “I'm afraid.” the most acnte.
“You're a coward,” replied Paolo, contemptu"A bootless journey,” said Smitli, sipping his ously, and Bill S.nith shall do it.” But you must liquor.
back him." "Bootless enough," replied Paolo, dryly. "But I “ When shall it be?" am not surprised.
“ To-morrow night. Listen-It is Simon Morris's "Why?"
birthday. He is wont, on that day, to send away his “When mercy presides over piratical expeditions— || daughter to the hills, and receive us in the bower where caramba ! one must expect to get but small ofling.” I have so often seen this pretty Jenny. You will go
Captain Simon is a little chicken-hearted,” cried up to make the usual speech, and while you are speakSmith.
ing, Bill Smith will blow his brains out. I will rush “ Madre de Dios! he is as brave as a lion, and as up in a great passion, storm, rave, and order Bill Smith strong as a bull; but his squeamishness about blood into irons, and take the command. Jenny will thus be will make us swing one of these days.”
sure I have had no hand in the affair, and once back "Luff! luff !” said Smith, “no falling-off lieutenant. here, Bill will be free.” The
rope was never yet made that will hang me." "A capital plan, and I approve of it wholly," said "Dom Smith is very confident," replied Paolo, sneer- | Smith, filling his glass. ingly; “but I am not. When a freebooter lets his “And won't we have a grand wedding ! caramba.?” prisoners escape, instead of walking the plank, he gives
dance ? " said Smith, laughing. up his neck. Do you think I don't want to see the
“ And you? world, friend Smith? How can I, if I meet living And Bill!" proofs of my trade at every corner?”
Won't Jacopo laugh,” added Paolo, "when he sees “ True! true!" muttered Smith.
old Simon cold?" “Now, if you had a less merciful captain, things “lle gave him a tremendous licking yesterday,” would go on better, and we might take a safe tripplied Smithi. twice a-year to Jamaica, Hispaniola, or the Main, to “And he cowed me before the men," cried Paolo, spend the rhino-not that I'm afraid to do it now
_" || sullenly. “That is, if we had you,” said Smith, laughing. “He did haul aft your foresheets," replied Smitli, "Well, you might do worse," replied Paolo, coolly. Il with a laugh. “But when is it to be done?” asked Smith.
“Curse him ! I hate him!” said the Spaniard, “Do you join me?
“Fie! hate your father-in-law ! " continued the car. “ In what ?" exclaimed the carpenter, starting back || penter.
“Father-in-law be hanged. Call for more drink, and Towards dawn, Paolo and Bill Smith tottered home let us send for Bill Smith.”
to rest an hour or two, while the carpenter fell heavily More drink was sent for, Bill Smith came, and the in a corner to sleep off his debauch. trio passed the night in laying their plans to murder the pirate chief.
(To be concluded in our next.)
DRYBURGII ABBEY.—THE SEPULCHRE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT.
Mighty, mouldering heap of ruins !
Sepulchre of ages gone;
Lofty mass of sculptured stone!
Roofless aisles of art and beauty
Turf-green floors, no longer trod By strict Abbots, when their duty
Was to do the will of God.
What has brought my steps so near thee?
'Twas to see thy wizard's grave! This, alone, makes me revere thee
This alone thy name might save! There he lies, the greatest spirit
That e'er trod thy sainted ground; Nothing do thy courts inherit
Craving worship so profound ! There he lies, with those beside him
Dearest to him when in life; But these slabs of stone divide him
From his honoured son and wife.
Skeleton of perish'd ages!
Where is all thy spirit now ?Where conceald are all thy sages
Of the proudly mitred brow! Here I view thy faded glory
Here I tread thy crumbling halls ; Sacred is thy hall-lost story
Ivied now thy tottering walls.
Broken images of old-
Wasted, worn, decayed, and cold!
When thy music, swelling high, Cheer'd the noble, tranquil-hearted,
And illumed the brightest eye! When fair ladye-love was burning
With its soul-subduing art; And fond cavaliers, returning
Glance for glance, consumed the heart ! Gone, gone, gone! and all forgotten,
Save a few of glorious name;
Few writ on the roll of fame.
Planted seven hundred years ; By thy lawn the Tweed is flowing,
Yet in these no age appears. The acacia and the cedar,
Cypress, walnut, weeping-beecli, Sombre ewe, and oak gigantic,
All their ancient story preach.
High the arches span above him ;
Hallowed is his place of restDistant realms send those who love him,
Bending fondly o'er his breast.
When the radiant sun ascends,
And a pensive languor lends.
Dismal owls his requiem sing-
Brings no terrors on its wing.
Flowers may ope their varied hues; Tweed may rush o'er pebbles gleaming,
Nor re-animate his muse.
All the loveliness of nature
Stretching far as eye can scan,
Cannot reach this mighty man.
Well thou shield'st him now when dead,
By which pilgrims oft are led.
Silent in his sainted bed,
ANDREW PARK. + One of the aisles is divided into three burial places, that are now fenced in front with strong iron railings. In the middle square compartment lies Sir Walter, between his lady and the late Sir Walter, his son. This place was assigned to him in rigt: of his grandmother's family. The tombs are exceedingly recurs, but very clumsy, being four confined slabs of Peterhand granita with a lid of the same, free of all ornament, and exch bearing is name of the parties so closely pent together.
• Close to the old Abbey there is a splendid yew-tree, planted in 1150, now 700 years ago. It was planted there when the cemetery was consecrated. It is perfectly entire still, and in full umbrage; the head is round as a ball; and its trunk, 6 feet from the ground, is above 10 feet in circumference. There are also many fine trees of nearly a similar age, still more in girth. This, at least, opens an idea on the longevity of trees in good soil.
THERE AND BACK AGAIN.
BY JAMES AUGUSTUS ST. JOHN,
Author of " History of the Manners and Customs of Ancient Greece,"“ Margaret Ravenscroft,” “ Egypt and Mohammed Ali,” &c. &c.
CHAPTER 1. -TII E DEPARTURE.
THERE AND BACK AGAIN! Will you accompany || to him by others have little weight with me. Perhaps, me, reader? If you do, we shall converse by the way || indeed, the facts which provoke their anathemas conon many subjects besides the picturesque. The journey stitute the principal reason of my preference, namely, altogether was a strange one for me, because, not hav- || that he was the great apostle and father of the Revoluing been a great traveller, I had not, and, indeed, lavetion, that he wrote the “Contrat Sociale," and disturbed not yet, learned to view men and countries as common- the political creed of all noble and imaginative minds place because many other persons before me had be throughout Europe. Let those persons who are really held them. In moving about the world, it is not al-wise take all due credit for it. I make no pretensions ways what we see, but what we feel, that is productive of that sort. I came to Switzerland, as I have said, of most delight both to ourselves and others. Nature out of partiality for Jean Jacques Rousseau, fully exsupplies the canvas, but we must bring along with uspecting to find at Vevay and Clarens the representathe colours, if we would call into being an original tives, in feature and figure at least, of Julie and or even a true picture-true, I mean, for all those Claire. who have the same organization and sympathies with us. We used—my wife and I—to discuss these matters
Every man has his own peculiar motives for travelling, || seriously, because it was a rule with us never to reand, therefore, of course, I had mine; though you will main long in any place where the women were other probably become incredulous when I endeavour to ex-than handsome, or at least tolerably pretty. This plain what they were. It was not to behold lakes, | may be set down to our love for the picturesque; for, glaciers, and mountains whose heads touch heaven, || after all, there is no combination of earth, wood, and that I had come into Switzerland; it was not in search water, which can claim to be regarded as half so beauof poetical or other inspiration; neither, being per-| tiful as a beautiful woman. Lakes are very magnificent, fectly well, was it with any view of improving my | and so are forests and mountains; but if, with Milton, health, or acquiring animal spirits, with which, at the we were deprived of the power of beholding external time, I was literally overflowing. I had come purely | things, it is the human face divine that we should most out of love for the memory of Jean Jacques Rousseau, earnestly desire to look upon again. Neither sun, nor and that I might stroll about at my ease over the scene moon, nor day, nor night, would awaken within us reof the Nouvelle Heloise. But why was the memory | grets so poignant as the faces of dear friends now of Rousseau dear to me? Probably some one had for us blotted out for ever from the aspect of nature. breathed it into my ears before the dawn of memory, Ever since our passage of the Jura, I had been and rendered it familiar to me in that period of life visited by the suspicion that we had got among an inwhen to be familiar is always to be loved. The day onferior race of human beings. France, heaven knows, which I first became acquainted with his writings I is not remarkable for female beauty, and yet one does remember most distinctly. It was in the midst of occasionally in that country see lovely faces and bright summer, when July had covered all the roads, and eyes flitting by one, especially in Normandy, and cersprinkled all the bushes in their vicinity, with dust. A tain provinces of the south. But in Switzerland, the cousin, who lived some five or six miles off, had just imagination immediately begins to flag for lack of exwritten to me, to say that he had got a copy of the citement. Rocks, and snow, and forests you have, no “Confessions,” which, if I would fetch them, he would doubt, in abundance; and, if you can be satisfied with lend to me. I started early, with one of my sisters as these, you may fancy yourself in Paradise. Nothing is a companion, all the way amusing myself with imagin- I wanting but a finely and delicately organised Irumanity. ing what manner of things those“Confessions” could be. It seems, however, to be a general law, that, wherever We walked through shady lanes, over meadows strewed nature puts on gigantic dimensions, man is intellecwith wild flowers, crossing many a brook by the aid of || tually dwarfed, for mountainous regions have seldom or a plank or small rustic bridge, and at length reached never given birth to great minds, or stamped a poetithe house in which the treasure lay. All clse con- cal character on their inhabitants. A seaport town, nected with this circumstance has faded from my me. embosomed in low hills, and a flat wool-combing place, mory but the book and my sister, and the way in which on a sluggish river, have produced the two greatest poets I read as we returned home. I sat on stiles, I reclined that ever lived ; and if we traverse the whole earth in on green banks, beneath the chequered shade of oaks search of beauty, we shall find it chiefly on plains, or and elms; I devoured the “Confessions.” The names of || in modest hills and valleys, like those of Great Britain, Geneva and Chamberi, and Madame de Warrens Italy, and Greece. and Claude Anet, became engraven ineffaceably on my It was night when we arrived at Vevey, and, there. mind; and with the whole, the dust, sunshine, greenfore, we were compelled to defer till morning our meadows, shady groves, sparkling streams, and melting search for the Julies and the Claires. Then, however, heat of July, were inextricably associated.
it being market-day, on which economical liabits bring From that time to the present, Rousseau and I have out nearly the wholc female population, we went forth been on good terms. The objections commonly made early, in the hope of realising Rousseau's delightful
vision. But let me not dwell upon the sequel. Goitres, in indifferent drapery to the public. I wish, however, and cretins, swollen necks and hideous idiotic faces- to be somewhat frank in this place, and to reveal a some from Savoy, who had crossed the lake in boats, | little of what passed in my mind when about to quit others from the surrounding villages of the Pays de Europe for Africa. Nothing can be farther from me Vaud—met our eyes on all sides, with here and there than the desire to impart undue importance to a joura woman of passable aspect, but nothing like beauty, || ney which many liad performed before, and some withdelicacy, or grace. We were disgusted with Vevay at out encountering any very formidable obstacles or danonce ; nevertheless, in consideration of the exquisite | gers. But the question was one of prudence or imscenery, the walks up the slopes of Mount Chardonn, prudence. All my fortunes were mysteriously bound the views from the chalet at the summit, the meadows up in my gray goose quill, which, to the seven urchins along the banks of the Veveyse, the stroll to the | before me, stood altogether in the place of Aladdin's Chateau de Blonay, the rocks of Meillerie, the Dent de lamp. Heaven, for ought they knew, rained cakes and Jaman, and the vast amphitheatrical sweep of grandeur bread and butter upon them from the sky, and would from Clarens to St. Gingoulph, we prolonged our visit || continue to do so, whether I happened to be on the to a month, after which we returned to Lausanne, || shores of the Leman lake, or in the Mountains of the where the Swiss seemed more tolerable in appearance. Moon. But my faith was not quite so boundless, and
This place we for some time made our home, and therefore my almost irrepressible buoyancy of spirit I selected it to be the home of my family during my sometimes flagged a little when I reflected that the absence in the east. If you have been at Lausanne, || poke of an Arab spear, or Moggrebin dagger, might you will remember, a little way out of the town, on the turn the world into a wilderness for those joyous little road to Berne, a fine house on the right hand, called ones, and leave my bones bleaching among those of Johinont, standing in the midst of a beautiful shrub-camels in the Libyan or Arabian Desert. bery and gardens. There it was we lived; and there, However, in the sphere of parentship there are two in the evening, as I watched my children playing upon human providences; and, therefore, it was not without the terrace, or appearing and disappearing among the great confidence that I determined on my expedition. trees and plantations below, I used to enjoy the pro- | Most persons endowed with fancy have, probably, from spect of the Alps, terminating with the summit of Mont || childhood, nourished a longing to visit some distant spot, Blane, relieved like a pale spectral cloud against the hallowed, if I mayso express myself, by early associations
of history, poetry, or romance. My imagination's land Poets talk freely, and without offence, of their chil- of promise, divided into two parts, lay on the banks dren, wives, and mistresses; and why may not prose of the Ilissus and the Nile, where great nations had writers take the same liberty ? Mothers at least will flourished and faded—where great men had speculated forgive me if I become a little more familiar and com- on life and death, and toiled unceasingly to unveil the municative than is usual in a formal tête à téte with || mystery of this vast universe. I by no means resemthe public. But I am fond of children, of my own bled that honest man who hoped to become possessed especially; and having just then seven of them, all full of Epictetus's wisdom, after his death, by purchasing of health and animal spirits, big and little, it will his lamp. I hoped for no philosophical or religious readily be believed that they formed the most pleasant inspiration by visiting the birthplaces of philosophy and part of the landscape, notwithstanding that Mont theology. But I knew, at all events, that I could not Blanc, and the other Alps of Savoy, constituted the fail to increase my experience and knowledge of manbackground. What added greatly to the interest was kind, by taking a view, however cursory, of Italy, Greece, the consciousness that I was about to leave them- and Egypt. I was, besides, desirous of solving for myself
, perhaps for ever. They were of all ages, from nine or ten at least one problem, namely, whether the arts of years to six months; and when their mother, with the baby || Greece were derived originally from the Nilotic valley, on her lap, formed the centre of the group, they used | which I could better do by studying the remaining to circulate around her in wild and never-ending gyra-monuments themselves than by trusting to the repretions of deliglit. In my mind's eye, I see them now,sentations, seldom faithful, given of them by artists though time and circumstances have distributed and and travellers. located them far apart, from the extremities of Insular With these views, I determined, about the middle Asia to the banks of the Nile and the Seine. But an of September, upon quitting Lausanne, and took my invisible link of brotherhood binds them together still;|| place in the diligence for Milan. My wife and chiland, doubtless, there are moments when, from the dren came down to the Buceau to see me off; and, most distant parts of the world, the minds of all revert though I hoped my journey would prove one of pleato that beautiful spot where, in days of unmingled hap- sure, my feelings at parting were far from enviable
. piness, they laughed and sported before me in the Strong doubts of the wisdom, or even morality of the shadow, as it were, of Mont Blanc.
step I was about to take, came over me. Around me It is an exclamation of Byron, “Oh that I could were the proofs of my multiplied responsibilities cling wreak my thoughts upon expression!”
ing to their mother or me, and shedding such tears as I have a thousand times uttered a similar wish; not only children shed. My own feelings, or hers, I shall not that my ideas are too big for language, but that I have attempt to describe. I shall only say that, overtaking never yet had the courage to turn them out of the the group again as they were ascending the steep street spiritual into the visible world. Many and many are leading up from the Place St. Francois, I felt the the thoughts that crowd and nestle about our hearts, strongest conceivable desire to leap out of the diligence, and exist only for ourselves. Perhaps we love them and return home with them; but while I was revolving this the more, because they are exclusively ours, and would thought in my mind, the vehicle attained the summit seem to lose their maiden purity and beauty, if exposed of the acclivity, and rolled on, while through the win:
dow I looked at them as long as they were visible. || appeared to draw forth and illuminate, as it were, all Presently a turn in the street bid them from my sight, the hidden beauties of the Alps. “From crag to crag and away we went, rattling and jingling over the stones, | leaped the live thunder ;” and, as night came on prethe driver cracking his whip, and the conducteur laugh-maturely, perhaps, from the dense clouds, the whole ing and chatting with the outside passengers as mer- surface of Lake Leman was momentarily converted rily as if we had not contemplated proceeding beyond into a sheet of dazzling fire. Perhaps in the whole the next village. It was eight o'clock in the evening system of nature there is nothing so beautiful as lightwhen we quitted Lausanne. The gloom of night was ning. It is in the physical world what irresistible pascongenial with the gloom of my mind, which, for a sion is in the moral. It is nature emerging from her time, seemed to be completely stunned and bewildered. normal state, and putting forth her powers and energies If there are those who can leave home without a pang, i visibly. Passion, too, which is the lightning of the whatever amount of enjoyment they may be looking mind, obliterates by its brightness all the littlenesses forward to, I cannot pretend to envy or congratulate and weaknesses of the character, and enables us for a them; for, being always enveloped with uncertainty, moment to soar far above the earth and everything we cannot say whether or not we have looked on the earthly. Lightning, though a physical process, is old familiar faces for the last time. And how pregnant something analogous. Gazing on it makes the heart with painful meaning are those words, the last time! | swell, and sends up the imagination far above the visi. In them lies the chief sting of death, when, leaving ble diurnal sphere. As I looked down, from my lofty the warm precincts of the cheerful day, it is the con- | position, upon the clouds, charged heavily with elecsciousness that it is for the last time that depresses, | tricity, I now and then obtained glimpses into someand all but annihilates our souls. The clustering, lov- thing like a new world. Immense caverns opened up ing faces round the bedside would lose nearly all their | a vista into the bowels of that vapoury creation, laysignificance if we were merely going to sleep; but whening open long sinuous valleys, fantastic mountains, that sleep is to know no waking—when, come whatchasms and precipices, glittering plains and heaving will, we can never with our mortal eyes behold those seas, all sheathed with the brilliancy of lightning. faces and those tears again—the pang of parting rises Then followed intense darkness, and then another fit of to indescribable agony. All separations of families have revelation, after which the eye descended to the lake, an infusion of this bitterness, because it is felt that what and beheld tracks of blue light spread over it like a is meant to be temporary may prove
pattern, quivering, palpitating, and expanding towards each other till they met, and became co-extensive with the surface of the water, converting into one sea
of flame the whole distance between Switzerland and When you desire to be silent, you would also be Savoy. During a lull in the storm, I reached home glad to be solitary. The presence of companions is with the children, after which I sat up during half the irksome, especially when their tone and manners night with my wife, admiring, from an open window, indicate a state of mind the very antipodes of your the most glorious of all visible created things, for own. Of course it is highly unreasonable to expect neither sun, nor moon, nor stars, have for me half the sympathy from strangers, especially where they are fascination possessed by lightning, when loud thunder ignorant that you require any. But we, after all, are accompanies its birth-pangs, ushering in its short exunreasonable both in our hopes and expectations; and istence to the world. I remember experiencing extraordinary disgust with No contrast could be greater than that which the my neighbours in the interior of the diligence for lake now presented. Calm and still, with something putting commonplace questions to me, in the hope of like a soft breath breathing over it, I gazed towards the drawing me into conversation, at the moment when I rocks of Meillerie, whence St. Preux wrote one of his felt more than a Trappeist's fondness for silence. Pre- sweetest letters to Julie. The very rocks, in the starsently, therefore, they drew their travelling-caps close light, seem still luminous with love, so completely has over their ears, and dropped asleep, for which I was the genius of Rousseau amalgamated itself with nature thankful. I then put my head out of the window, to in this neighbourhood. gaze upon the dusky panorama around. No lake, not We halted about an hour at Vevey, which now apeven that of Mæris, in the Lybian waste, is set in so '| peared far more romantic than when we lived there, rich a frame as that of Geneva—the Alps encompass though it was probably our having lived there that imit like giants, who seem at night to look down lovingly parted to it its chief interest. Everybody knows what on its slumbers. They were now beginning to put on a momentary bustle the arrival of a diligence creates their wintry grandeur, being powdered all over within a little country inn, all the inmates of which invarirecent snows, which, in the increasing and waning ably rush out in search of excitement. Everybody is light, imparted to them the strangest conceivable ap- full of speculation respecting the faces that appear at pearance. The smooth, level surface of the lake was the window of the vehicle, and if there be any in the thickly bedropped with the golden reflexes of the stars, background dimly seen, the mystery enveloping them is, which rose and sunk with that restless impulse always of course, greatly enhanced. A Swiss rustic inn has observed in the bosom of great waters, and reminded always something picturesque and striking about it, with me of jewels heaving and trembling on the breast of its long drooping eaves, wooden galleries, and a wilderbeauty. A few days before my departure, the lakeness of projections and niches where light and darkness and its environs had exhibited a very different aspect. | sport, as it were, with each other, as torch or candle passes I had gone out with my children towards the rock of to and fro beneath. Several of the burghers of Vevey, the Signal, and had reached the shelter of a little wood, with pipe in mouth and tankard in hand, came out and When there came on suddenly one of those storms which I planted themselves on seats beside the door to gaze at, or