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We shall see thee when the light divine

Plays freshly on thy cheek,
And the resurrection morning
Hath just begun to break.



Thou wert fair, Lady Mary,

As the lily in the sun :
And fairer yet thou mightest be-

Thy youih was but began :
Thine eye was soft and glancing,

of the deep bright blue;
And on the heart thy gentle words

Fell lighter than the dew.
They found thee, Lady Mary,

With thy palms upon thy breast,
Even as thou hadst been praying,

At thine hour of rest :
The cold pale inoon was shining

On thy cold pale cheek,
And the morn of the Nativity

Had just begun to break.
They carved thee, Lady Mary,

All of pure white stone,
With thy palms upon thy breast,

In the chancel all alone :
And I saw thee when the winter moon

Shone on thy marble cheek,
When the morn of the Nativity

Had just begun to break.
But thou kneelest, Lady Mary,

With thy palms upon thy breast,

Among the perfect spirits

In the land of rest :

Thou art even as they took thee

At thine hour of prayer,
Save the glory that is on thee

From the Sun that shineth there.
We shall see thee, Lady Mary,

On that shore unknown,
A pure and happy angel,

In the presence of the throne;

The NigHTINGALE.—A countryman one day went
to the mansion of a wealthy lord. Here he heard
the singing of a bird in a gilt cage. On approaching
it, he saw it was a nightingale. With a feeling of
melancholy, he stood and leant upon his staff, and
listened to the song.

Then the servants of the rich man came to him,
and said, “Wherefore art thou amazed that thou
standest thus musing there?

“I am amazed," answered the countryman, " that
your master can bear the sad notes of the imprisoned
bird in your splendid mansion."

“ Thou fool,” replied one of the servants, "does

the song of the nightingale seem sad to thee in thy

fields and woods ?

“No," rejoined the farmer; "there its song fills

me with delight and admiration."

“Are its notes, then, different there ?" asked the
man, with a contemptuous sinile.

“Certainly,” said the countryman. "Our night-
ingales, amidst sprays covered with leaves and blos-
som, chant the praises of renewed Nature ; they sing,
under the open canopy of heaven, the song of liberty,
and over their brooding mates the notes of love."

At this, the servants raised a loud laugh, and called
the countryman a simple clown. But he held his
peace, and returned quietly to his cottage and his

Let not any one say he cannot govern his passions,
nor hinder them from breaking out and carrying him
into action ; for what he can do before a prince or a

great man, he can do alone, or in the presence of
God, if he will.-Locke.







LITTELL'S LIVING AGE.—No. 165.-10 JULY, 1847.

. From the Dublin University Magazine. 'sat a little girl beside the open window. Her soft PHILIP ARMYTAGE; OR, THE BLIND GIRL's hair falling in curls, that prettiest fashion for a child,

was of that hue which a gleam of sunshine changes

into gold; her head was turned aside; but her atti"A child most infantine,

tude was full of childish grace, with the little hands Yet wandering far beyond that innocent age

crossed on her knee, motionless, in silent thought. In all but its sweet looks and mien divine."-SHELLEY. Opposite to her was a boy-her twin-brother—a

It was morning—beautiful morning—in that taller and bolder model of herself; sitting carelessly fairest season of the year

on the floor; he was busily carving the top of a

hazel wand. Boy-like, he whistled merrily over “When April has wept itself to May.”

his work, and looked so happy and handsome, with Earth awoke from her winter sleep, fresh and his sunny curls, like his sister's, hanging over a glorious and young, as if it were but a day since face that still preserved the round curves of childshe bore on her bosom Adam and Eve, and shed hood, his deep blue eyes shaded by dark, heavy around them the flowers, and breezes, and sunshine lashes, and the perfect classic profile of his mouth of Eden. Beautiful looked the Eternal Mother, in and chin, over which smiles were ever dimpling. her ever-renewed youth, over which the change, With these young creatures, as with the earth, it and misery, and crime of six thousand years have was the spring of life—to them it was beautiful, passed like a shadow, and left no trace.

hopeful, joyous morning. There is no glamor like that of the pen ; and it The mother entered—a sweet, delicate-looking has this surpassing spell, that the magic extends woman, fragile and graceful, in her robe of pure also to the one who wields the charm. Let us, / white; and then the father came in, like a shadow therefore, in this wet and gloomy day, when a after sunshine. He was a tall man, of middle age; heavy mist hangs like a shroud over the dreary city but the sharp lines about his mouth, and a crown -when under our window sound the plashing foot- entirely bald, gave him the appearance of being falls of tired passers by, and the incessant raitle of much older. Yet, not a single gray hair mingled vehicles—let us, amidst all this, call up to our with the chick brown locks at the back of his head, mind's eye the scene where our story begins, and and his form was unbent. Jlis cold, clear blue linger fondly over that beautiful spot, in the deline- eyes gleamed from under-hanging brows, and his ation of which memory strives with imagination. noble forehead was full of intellect. He looked

It was the breakfast-room of a house that stood like a man in whom mind held a preeminence over alone on a hill side-one of those stately mansions heart. The little ones timidly advanced towards him. that are found in England, far in the country, Why, Edmund—Stella-early this morning?" where generation after generation of the old fami- he said, and stooped mechanically to kiss them, lies of the gentry are born, live, and die; father, son, while a smile like winter sunshine just bent his and grandson occupying, in their turn, the same lips. Edmund, the boldest, and the favorite, stayed abode, and descending to the same ancient stone to show his wonderful woodcarving to his father, monument hard by. Cheerfully came the warm with boyish pride ; but little Stella crept along by morning sun into the room, not stealthily, as in the table, and nestled beside her mother's knee. early spring, but with a glad overflow of light and “What has my little girl been doing?" said warmth, brightening even the solemn oak furniture, Mrs. Brandreth, twining her fingers in the long and contending bravely with the tiny fire that was silken hair. lit through habit, until it fairly put out its puny “ I have been listening to the birds, mamma, and antagonist, and reigned supreme. The Jong low feeling the sunshine, it is so warm and pleasant.” windows, on one side, opened on a formal, dainty A light sigh heaved the mother's bosom. little flower-garden, and then, winding through a “ That is well; I like to see my darling happy smooth lawn, lay a narrow walk that led into the and gay,” she answered tremulously. forest, on whose borders the house lay. In three And now came the pleasant breakfast hour—the minutes one might pass into that beautiful wood, pleasantest meal of all to country-dwellers, and wild as if man's foot had never entered it, and alive visitants. How cheerful, and fresh, and blithe all with the melodies of leaves quivering in the morn- look; how welcome is the balmy morning air; ing breezes. The tender green of the thorn nay, to descend to common things, how fragrantly mingled with the dark holly, that here vied even rises up the steam of coffee, and how grateful both with the oak in size and grandeur; the primroses to sight and taste are the country viands—snowy looking out smiling from the roots of the old trees; new-laid eggs, and golden butter, and cream-rich and large beds of the wood anemone, or wind- and luscious as nectar. Commend us to a country flower, seemed like a white, wavy mantle cast over breakfast. Who could come down with sour looks, the long grass, in recesses so thick that not a stray and bitter speeches, on a sunny morning, and not sunbeam could pierce through. The loud songs of feel all the hardness and ill-temper melt away from the birds reached even to the house, like a flood of his heart beneath its influence? aerial music; the ringing ca of the lark, the deep Merrily the children laughed and talked, making, note of the throstle, the silvery warble of the linnet, at times, even the sedate father look up from his and the soft coo of the wood-dove, all mingling in reading, and winning the gentle mother to smiles sweet harmony.

less pensive than ordinary. At last Mr. Brandreth Listening eagerly, with up-turned face, that did collected his papers, and laid them carefully aside ; not shrink even from the broad dazzling sunlight, he was a learned man, wise in geology and natural CLXV.



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philosophy, and always devoted the breakfast-hour I was sudden—just as an autumn leaf flutters and to the re-perusal and arrangement of his lucubra- futters until it drops at once and is seen no more. tions. The twins received the signal to retire, and Thus did Mrs. Brandreth die-even before her Edmund hastily rose, while Stella moved slowly husband, who, all-unconscious of danger, was on a from her seat. As she passed, her stretched out journey, could reach his home, the wife whom he arms, by which she guided her steps, came in con- had sincerely loved, though hardly with the tentact with the heap of papers so carefully arranged, derness meet for her gentle nature, had passed and they fell in confusion on the floor. Mr. Bran-away. So swiftly came the angel of death, that dreth started up angrily

the mother had hardly time to bless her two babes, “ Careless child—always doing some mischief or and commend poor Stella to her brother's care, in other,” he said, and thrust Stella rudely away. a charge that lingered on the boy's memory from The child fell, and began to weep—not loudly as youth to old age. Then, worn out with pain, she most children—but with the silent tears of advanced kept silence, and lay with closed eyes, still holding life. The mother took her to her bosom, and fast the little hands of her daughter, the thought soothed her.

of whose desolation troubled her spirit, even on the “Do take the child away-Marian,” said Mr. threshold of paradise. It was night, and the wearied Brandreth, in a vexed tone," she annoys one so child laid her head on the pillow and slept. Mrs. much."

Brandreth's elder sister and tender nurse wished to Mrs. Brandreth looked with meek reproach at remove her, but the mother would not suffer it. her husband—“ Hush, hush-you forget,” she “ Do not wake her,” she whispered, faintlyanswered, imploringly, still pressing her little girl" let my darling sleep-I have kissed her and said closer to her bosom, where the tears at last ceased. good-night-a long good-night-until comes the Stella walked, or rather crept, to her father's knee, eternal morning ; let her sleep." and said, gently

No more words passed through those white lips. “ Papa, I did not mean to do harm. Forgive Once or twice the eyes opened and rested lovingly, poor Stella—she is blind !"

lingeringly on the face of the sleeping child ; then It was so—there was no light in those large, they closed forever! When morning came, another blue, limpid eyes, that were lifted so meekly to the spirit had entered the gates of heaven. Silently, father's face. Six years had the little child looked and without tears, the sister unclosed Stella's warm on the beautiful sky, and seen the flowers, and then fingers from those that stiffened round them, and a shadow grew over her vision ; gradually it dark- bore her away, still sleeping. ened and darkened, and the world grew dimmer, Wildly and resolutely the child strove to return until, at last, she saw it no more. Now, all the to her mother. Her darkened eyes could not see visible earth was become to her like a scene once the change of death, therefore she did not believe beheld in a dream, and then shut out forever. Yet, in its reality. An hour before she had heard the but for an uneasy wandering of the eyes, no one voice, had felt the hand; both were the same, could have told that those beautiful blue orbs were though feeble; she could not comprehend that one sightless. The sweet face wore, at times, that short sleep had parted her mother from her. So peculiar mournful look which the blind always clinging to her twin-brother, Stella came and stood have, but this was the only outward token of the by the dead; she called, but there was no answer. affliction which had fallen upon her. AMiction it " Where is she, where is she?" cried the decould hardly be called, for the child scarcely felt it spairing child. as such; her blindness had come on so gradually, Edmund guided his sister's hand to the fingers that Stella had become accustomed to her helpless that had held hers while life lasted ; their marble condition. And, besides, from her very infancy the coldness made her start, and cling, trembling, to child had been quiet and thoughtful, caring little her brother's neck. for the sports attractive to her age; as if with a “ Edmund-I cannot see—tell me how she fore-shadowing of how soon she was to be deprived looks,” fearfully whispered Stella. of them. Gentle and subdued she was, as became “ White-still- with closed eyes and parted lips her helpless condition ; it seemed as if He, who -oh, mother! mother! it is not you!" and the knew how dependent her whole life must be on the boy burst into tears. affection of others, had endowed her with that irre- “No, my children," said the sister of Mrs. Bransistible beauty which wins love, and the meek dreth, who stood behind them. “ Edmund-Stella spirit which preserves it.

-I will tell you what she is now—a white-robed, But now Stella hardly felt her darkness, so illu- glorious angel at the footstool of God's throne-a minated was it by the light of a mother's love. voice forever singing his praise—a spirit pure and More than her own life, more than her handsome perfect, though we know not what form she bears frank-hearted boy-nay, more even than the hus- in heaven, save that it is in God's image, and must band of her youth, did Mrs. Brandreth cling to her be beautiful.' blind child ; with a passionate fervor, an all-absorb- And in the stillness of the death-chamber that ing love, that atoned to Stella for the loss of the pious and gentle woman drew the orphans of her blessed gift of sight. Perhaps her own delicate dead sister to her side and read aloud from the Holy health made this love more intense, from the feel- Book, the words that speak of the immortality of ing that she would not always be with her darling, the soul, and the state of the blessed in heaven; to cherish her in her heart's core, and shield her words so simple, that childhood finds in them no there from all contact with the rough world which mystery hard to be understood—so sublime, that the poor stricken one was so ill fitted to brave. the gray-haired philosopher may feel his heart glow

The mother knew well that every year which with the consciousness that he bears within his frail unfolded, in new beauty, Stella's mind and person, smortal frame a spirit that can never know death! drew her own life nearer towards its close. At The children listened, standing beside the clay last, when Stella and Edmund still lingered on the of their mother ; yet even then they thought of her verge of childhood, the mother was called away. no longer as dead on earth, but as rejoicing in Gently, not rudely, came the summons, and yet it heaven.


and see her mother, with eyes no longer darkened. 1. Are we not formed, as notes of music are,

Then a warble-a perfume would bring back the For one another, though dissimilar ?

dreaming girl to earth, and she would think how Such difference without discord as can make

sweet the world must be to others, and droop her Those sweetest sounds in which all spirits shake, head, and weep that she was blind. As trembling leaves in a continuous air."-SHELLEY.

One gift atoned to Stella, in some measure, for From the time of her mother's death, Stella the loss of sight, and that was, a soul to which drooped and pined. The world had grown all dark music was as its very breath. Her voice had those to the motherless child. Her wild brother, and deep, low tones that thrill from the heart to the her cold, reserved father, alike strove to soften their heart; not a clear, musical, gladsome warble, but natures and show tenderness to the helpless one; a voice that spoke of mind, of feeling, of passion, but man is so different to woman, and all their such as came from no angel's lips, but from a kindness atoned not for the love of her who was woman's heart. We once heard, and from one too gone. Edmund remembered well his mother's dy, who spoke and thought well, the saying—"One ing injunction, and many a time he left the field must always love a woman who sings sweetly;" sports, of which he was so passionately fond, to and Stella's was a voice not to be admired, perhaps, come and talk with his sister, and lead her into the but to be loved, as coming from a heart as pure and beautiful forest, where she could hear the birds' | beautiful and sincere as itself. But now this lovely songs and be made glad with the gladness of nature. voice, was only to her as the means whereby she But not!

could altogether remove the perpetual poured out that overflowing heart in a river of melsadness which now darkened the face of the blind ody; sitting, Ophelia-like, for hours and hours girl. Excluded from the pleasures of childhood, chanting "snatches of old songs” and running her hers passed away like a sorrowful dream. She fingers over that sweetest of home friends, the firegrew up, living within herself, in a world of her side piano, in harmonious revealings. And when, own imagining, over which death hung, like an day by day, the vague sadness of aimless and unsateternal shadow, a mysterious woe which she could isfied youth grew upon her, the blind girl still clung not fathom, and which yet haunted her like a spec- to her ever mournful strains, that made her feel less tre. The remembered touch of that icy hand made the weight of her solitude. her shudder in her dreams; it was all she knew of There are in life crises, distinct and vivid, on the great change. Her mind, undiverted from the which we can look back and feel that they have past by any charms of the present, became dead to colored our whole destiny ; can say, but for that all outward impressions, and alive only to imagina- one year-one week-one day, how different would tion, and most of all to memory:

all have been. Silently, unconsciously are we swept Thus, in this dreamy state of mind, the blind girl on towards these moments, which lie like hills, insensibly passed from childhood into girlhood. She placed here and there, from whose top we can see had attained the age of which poets write as sweet- our whole life, like a panorama, stretched out before est of all, when the bud is just opening into a flower, us; and know that but for such and such events we and life is in its hopeful spring. How little do should not have felt and been as we are. Chance, these said poets know that this is the saddest age fatality, are the words on the lips of the wise proud of all. What woman would ever wish to be again man, in explanation of this; but the humble, loving “ sweet sixteen ?" Childhood's life is a never-end- spirit looks higher for the unveiling of these marvels ing present, a contented dwelling on what is best which pass worldly wisdom. and pleasantest now, without memory to sharpen Thus, nearer and nearer came the blind girl to the past, or anxiety to darke the future. Bi with the boundary that golden shadow which overyouth, soon–oh, how soon! comes the thirst for hangs human life, and ever has done so since the something more-the bitter, unsatisfied yearning time when the first created one wooed the mother after vague happiness, some glorious ideal of human of all men, in the twilight of paradise. Once, and felicity, the same in all, yet varied in form, accord- once only, can come this sunny cloud over mortal ing to the different minds in which it abides. One life. Man may love twice, thrice-nay, even dreams of wealth, another of gayety, another-alas woman's constancy may know the freshness of for her!—of love; and so the young creatures go early fancy, or the calm peace of healed affections ; on restlessly seeking to fathom their newly-awa- but, be it first or last, every man and woman has, kened thoughts and feelings; and, knowing not or has had, some love supreme to which all others their own hearts, nor yet life, they wander about, are as nothing. And this is the immortality of blindly dazzled or groping in darkness, until the love ; falsehood, or death, or change, may intervene; waking comes from that troubled dream, and they the wounded heart may be healed, the fickle vow enter on the reality, the true life of heart and soul, forgotten in other and higher ones, but no other for which woman was made.

feelings can ever be exacıly the same. It is the Stella entered upon girlhood with few or none of idealization of love, which happens but once in a the buoyant hopes of most young maidens. She lifetime, and which each young life that enters earth saw not beauty, and love was to her only a name renews in itself, thus making an ever fresh eternity that brought to her the memory of her mother--the of love. sole love she had ever known. Always thought- Some inexplicable whim allured the retired and ful, she lived more than ever within the dark cham-studious Mr. Brandreth from his home ; and he set bers of her own soul-her only world. But that off to travel on the continent, taking with him his world now became peopled with deeper and wilder daughter. Wearily did the blind girl ask to be left fancies ; every day new chords were touched in her in peace with her birds and Powers, and heavily and heart, the mysterious harmonies of which she could fearfully did she look forward to entering on a scarcely understand. She loved to be alone ; in world that could bring her nought but pain. Stella winter she listened to the wind until she almost fan- did not know that the silken thread of her destiny cied it talked with her; in summer, she sat for was insensibly drawing her towards him who was hours in the still, silent sunshine, and thought of to lighten its burthen, and make all joy and sunshine heaven, of the time when she should go thither, io her. Thus it was that she met him.


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PHILIP ARMYTAGE; OR, THE BLIND GIRL'S Love. As a man of science and learning, Mr. Brandreth amounted to vices; and, young as he was, he had had the entrée everywhere among the gifted, and learned wisdom, and bade fair to become, if he were the patrons of such. Thither he also carried his not already, a talented and good man. Thus far blind daughter, perhaps because he thought to we have spoken of the mind of Philip Armytage ; please her, for he was a kind father, in the main, reversing the general order, and putting foremost and perhaps because he liked to see many eyes rest- what is indeed the highest. Of his face and pering with admiration on the beautiful English girl, son, we may now say, that both were pleasing to and to hear praises of her glorious voice. Rarely a lady's eye; he was certainly not an Apollo, but was it that Stella suffered this gift to be shown he was tall, graceful, and looked, moved, spoke like forth ; but, on one night, wearied of herself, of sol- a gentleman. Such was he whom destiny-what itude, of society, she gave way to her feelings, and can such things be but destiny ?-threw in the way sang, with her whole soul in ihe music.

of the young, beautiful, blind girl, whose lonely " Who is she who sang?" said a clear, low-toned, dreaming heart yearned for an ideal round which to manly voice, whose pleasant English tones ran hang, as a garland, all its flowers of love and fancy. through the Babel of French, Italian, and German And rare as the fact is in the history of most tongues that filled the saloon, and pierced to the maidens' hearts, in this case the shrine was one acute ears of the blind girl. The answer was inau- worthy to receive that purest and holiest sacrifice, dible to her, but then she heard the same pleasant a woman's first love. If this love be so powerful voice again, in tones that were much fainter, and that it is sometimes unchanged—always rememhad a mournful emphasis.

bered—to old age, what must be the feelings of “ Poor girl-poor girl—I had a sister who was those on whom outward impressions can have no blind."

influence, whom outward beauty cannot lure to A deep crimson flushed Stella's cheek, for she fickleness ! how intense-how all-engrossing must was ever sensitive on the subject of her misfortune; be the love of the blind! but that sweet and compassionate voice healed where it wounded.

As she left the piano, the blind girl felt her hand taken by that of a stranger, and a gentle “ Suffer “ Amor che nullo amato amor perdona me to lead you,” fell on her ear, in the same voice Mi prese, del costui piacer si forte to which she had listened before. Ere they could

Che come vedi, ancer non un'abbandona."-DANTE. find Mr. Brandreth, the stranger had time to ask Love, that to none beloved to love again

Remits, seized me with wish to please so strong and claim pardon, as a countryman, for thus addressing one unknown; and by declaring his name, and

That as thou seest, even yet it doth remain.” speaking of some mutual friends, he won upon even The wise ones of the earth may ridicule love's the reserved father. All that evening, Philip Ar- mysterious sympathies, as they do the stories of mytage sat by the side of the blind girl, who felt ghosts and apparitions, but there must be some her heart warm to the sound of an English voice truth in both, or so much pains need not and would in that far land. And his was so sweet, and, when not be taken to prove them to be false. How was he spoke to her, had such a pitying softness, as if it, then, that before Stella and Philip Armytage had he thought of the sister he had mentioned. No met half a dozen times, they began to feel and to talk wonder that when sleep came over poor Stella's like old friends? What was that strange sympathy dimmed eyes, that voice haunted her in her dreams. which made the very words he uttered appear to

Philip Armytage was that darling hero of nov- her as if she had heard them before in some dim
elists, that Pariah of real life--a poor gentleman. dream-as if she had thought his thoughts long
Heir to an old uncle, who would marry and thwart before? And what was it that caused Philip
the hopes of the nephew he had educated with all Armytage, who had basked all his life in the smile
the luxuries and expectations of wealth, young of woman, to feel an irresistible charm in gazing on
Armytage, at twenty-five, was thrown like a stray the sweet face of the poor blind girl, who, as yet
sea-weed on the ocean of the world, with manners, unconscious of the nature of the invisible tie between
mind, and education that only made him feel more them, treated him with the frank regard of a young
keenly his changed position. Ile experienced to sister towards a dear brother?
the full how differently the world looks on a bar- Most welcome is the society of a countryman to
onet's heir and a nobleman's secretary; even the those who are travelling abroad; and Stella thought
fine gentlemanly bearing and richly-gifted mind, it was this reason that made Philip's presence so
which could not be taken away from him, were grateful to her. Then, too, he was so gentle, and
almost thought to add to the category of his imper- talked to her of his lost sister, blind like herself,
fections now.

until she felt that blindness to be less pain. He
Under the influence of these changed fortunes, read to her, and thus opened a new world to her
Philip Armytage ought, in order to become a true view ; his high and cultivated intellect drawing out
novel hero, to have grown cold, sarcastic, haughty, the hidden treasures of hers, and his early ripened
misanthropic ; but he very wisely did no such thing judgment guiding her, until she awoke from the
A good mother--that guardian angel of a boy's life vague, idle dreams of girlhood unto a better and
-had better trained her fatherless and only son. brighter life. Yet all this while no words of love
Philip's mind and principles were too well regulated passed between them.
for one blast of misfortune to wither the flowers, For weeks, months, their life was a long dream
and cause ill weeds to spring up rampant in the of happiness, so sweet, that neither thought of the
gurden of his heart. That heart was disappointed, waking. By slow degrees the truth dawned on
but not chilled or soured; he did not scorn or rail Philip Armytage, and he knew that he, over whose
at the world, but sirove, like a true hero, to brave heart light fancies before had swept like a summer
its frowns, and wait patiently until his own firm wind, now loved, for the first time, with his whole
will and endurance should earn for him what for- heart and soul. And who was the object of this
tune had denied. Philip Armytage was not perfect passionate love? A blind girl, whose helplessness
-who on earth ever was? but his foibles never made her only the dearer; for what is so sweet to

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