jj itftitint 4:lstrriliti, Tro,pridots, iit tLlttrp., THE Yo tr2V - *, ) g WIDOW. BrAtonswr . JOSSELI'N She is modest but not bashful, Free and easy, but net bold, Like an apple, ripe and mellow, Not too young and not too old; Half inviting, NU repulsive, Now advancing, and now shy. There is mischief in itor There is dingo in her eye. Sho has studied 'human eature; She is sctietiled in all her arts; She has taken her diploma, As the mistress or all hearts. • She can tell the Very moment . When to sigh and when to stile; 0, a maid is sometinies charming, • But a widow all the while. Are you sad! , bow very serious Will her handsome face become; Are you angry! she.is wretched, Lonely, friendly* tearful, dumb. Are you mirthful ! him; her laughter Silver.sounding, will ring ont, She can lure, catch and play - you, . As the angler does the tront. Ye old bacheto - rs,of forty, , Who bare grOisr, so,bald,and wise; Young Americans of twenty, With the 14ve-looks your eyes; • You may practice all the lemony,- Taught by Cupid since tho But I know a little widow, , Who ran Win and fool you all. 'Hz Jso ,VG OF THE ArEP10.4..47 GIRL. Our hearts sre . with our native land, Our tong is for her gtory; Her warrior's Vrel.th is in our hand, 4 3ur lips brentlyout her story, ilerlofly hills And valleys green, Are smiling biight before as;. And Me a rainbow sign is seen, . Her proud flag graving o'er as. And there ate milks upon our lips, For those who, meet her ibetnen; For glory's star knows no eclipse, When smiled upon by women. Far those who brave the mighty deep, • And scorn the threat of dang,eir; We've imiles to cheer—and tears to weep For every ocean ranger. Oar hearis are with our native land, - - Our song is for her freedom, Our prayers are for our gallant band. = Who strike where honoint - teaa"..- -- W e l ove t h e ta i ni t,:-- %I , breathe, 'Tis tre4rrt's boundless dower; Well twine for him a fadeless wreath, Who scorns a tyrant's power. 4' ; They tell me of Frances beauties rare, Ot Italy's proud daughters, pfScutland's lassi&—England's fair, And nymphs of Shannon's waters: i. , We need: tot all their boasted charms, ThOu,gh lords around them hover; Our glory lies in Freedotnis arms, A freeman for a lover, Listtitaitonts. BROOCEL I have in my possession an article or jewelry which cost me many aouncoinfortable twinge though it was certainly not ,stolen. Neither was it begged, borrowed, . given or bought ; yet looking at it, I often fee: Myself in the position of the old man in the nursery tale, who,having speculated from some.church yard a stray ulna, or„ was perpetually haunted by the voice of ita defunct owner, crying in unearthly tones, 'Give me my bone.' Now the ornament that had unluckily fallen to my lot—l picked up in the street—is a miniature brooch, set with small garnets, in heavy antique gold. 'l It isevidently a portrait orsotneboody or other's great grand mother, then a, fair - damsel, in a nch peaked boddice and btomacher; and 'it _heavy necklace of pearls- her hair combed over a cushion, and adorned with a tiny wrestli—a sweet looking creature she is, though not. positively beauti ful. I never' wear the brooch (and on princi ple I wear it frequently in the _hope of find ing the real Owner.) but I pause and specu late on the noiy attached to it and its origi nal, for I ani sure ,that both had ,a story. = And one night lying awake, after a tonversa zime, my ears still ringing with the din of ma ny voices—heavens I How these literary peo ple do talk !--there came to me a phantasy,a vision or a dream, whichever the reader choos es to consider , it. It was moonlight, of course; and her silvery majesty was so powerful that I had the '-Azira periertof my couch" quite close to - shut her out; te4vertheless, as I looked on the white curtains.at thafoot of Ile bed, I saw growing there-4 can find no fetter word—an image what shall I say t—like the , dissolving views now so:much the rage, It seemed to form ittse,lf out of nothing, and gradualy assume a distinct. shape. Ltd it was ozy miniature brooch; enlarged into IL goodly sized appari tion; the setting forth glimmers of light, by which I saw tha figure within,. half-human, half-etheriai, waving to and fro like vapor, but still preserviug the attitude and likeness of the , portrait. Certainly, if a • ghost, - it was prettiest ghost ever seen: • I believe it is etiquette - for apparitions only /o speak wizen spoken to; so I suppose I must have addressed mine. • But my phantom. and Jiaeld no district conversation; and in all remember of the interview the speech wasen tirely on its side,communicatrd by snatches, like breathings of an 4olian harp, and thus j4kronicled by me. . • How was! created and by whom I _Young gentlewoman (;•bonor Sou by using a 'word peculiar to my day, when maidens- wetniztel-. ther "misses" Dor •'yourtg ladies," : but essen tially gentiewonwa,) I - 43erived my birth from the two gre.atfatpowerion cartb- -, Geolos and Love ; bat 1,, will speak more plainly. It was sinzuzieell 4tty•r-such iminmers one "war sees now=—that I came to life wider say orlgi pator's hand. He sat painting ins quaint old library, and'ila;,.)Mago before him was the origival 4 . Oit you see.,• • '' A lookat'in if 'll . I . * th " . t' ~ myself ist, . esp SID muc h ; the 't my creator , was a young : self-talight, and ea' jet . ottry ball -taught artist, ivlro, charmed Witl the 'expression, left acurate drawing to take Amite. His Atter's character and foritrn'e are indicated too; though he was not ,beautilial,. swittness . and dignity-am in the 'finely • rentl:ed , tye-broWs; and white the pearls, the velvet, and the lace, show wealth and rarik, the rose in her bosons implies rim- }sly maiden tastes. - Thus the likeness tells its own tale--she was Mt earl's daughter atd he , was a poor artist. . , Many a time dadathat first day pf my exist ence 1 heard .1 he sweet .N..( ? i c er. of Lady ' Jean talking, in kindl , courtesy to the painter as i t, he drew. tSlie Wailialfasbanied that her fa ther had asked him terpaint only a miniature ; he Whose genies and'ioclination led V him to the highest , e - allS of art." But the artist an- _ ,slivered somewhat odefusedly, "That having - beep brought , up near her father's , estate, and hearing so i tuuchr Of her.goodness, he was only mo, happy to paint any likeness of the. Lady Jean." 'And Ido believe he Wis. "I also have heard of you, ?it: Bethune," Was the answer ; and the lady's aristocractie ally pale cheek was tinged with a faint rose color, which the observant artist would fain have immortalized but could nut for the trem bling of his hand. "It gives me: pleasure," she, continued, with - a quiet dignity befitting her,rank and woruanhootl," to not only make the acquaintance of the promising artist, but the good man.' , Ali! me, it was a mercy Neiman. 13ethime did not annihilate my airy F existence altogether with that berried dash of his pencil; it made the month somewhat aw ry,as you may mee in me to this - day. There was a hasty sununotrafroin the earl, "That hiinself and Sir Anthony desired the presence or, the Lady Jean." An expression of pain, halfof anger - crossed her (Ate, as she re plied; 'Say that latt .:e ...rdeti ?my father. 1 be lieve,' she added, 'we must end .the sitting for to-day:. : Will you leave the miniature here, -Mr. Bethune? , , .. The artist muttered something about work ing on it at-home, with Lady Jean's pennis sion ; and as and of the attendants touched me, he - snatched %tr.e up wtth such anxiety Abet he had very nearly destroyed his 'own work. • ' `AU %would be once tike her tionnieu face gin she were r as With as she was this worn. But that/canna' be, a dour father Irka the earl, and an uncomely,wickeo wooer like Sir .11rthonj% llech sir,but I ain was for tle.Ledtiv Jean 1' : . I know not Why gorm an sbnuld hare lis tened to the auld wife clarers,' nor why, n 4 he carried me borne, I should have felt his heart beating against 'ate to It degree that fadly endanftered my young tender life. I suppose it was bis sorrow, for baring thu; -, spojj e d_ rnst „ imat..arsurenl.a r a rirstmtuler him no t. him, and also for the same cause 'that be sat half the night contemplating the injury h., had done. • Again and again the young artist *eat to ' the c:Wle,and my existence.akiwiv grew from day to day : thoug,h.never was-there a paint ing whose infancy - lasted no long. Yet I loved my creator, tardy thOuch he was, for I felt that he loved me, and that _in every touch Of his sou). Often they came.and stood togeth er, the artist, and the earl's daughter looking at me,. They, talked, - she dropping the aristo cratio hauteur, which bid a somewhat imma- Lure mind, ignorant less from will than from circumstance and neglect. While he forget ting his worldly rank, rose to that which na tore and genius gave him. Thus both uncon- - sciously fell into their true position as man and woman, teacher and learner, the greater and, the less. “Another sitting, and the miniature will lie cmnplete,•l fear,” murmured Norman, .with conscience-stricken look, as he Lent over i me. his fair hair almost touching my ivory. caress, swett,.thoucr.h . no longer new to Me for many a time his lip:-4Mt_this la telling tal e s, so Oo more! •My p a iul . o ) ,,yet not soul le4 eyes; looked at_ my mattitr.as did others. •of -which mine were but.the poor shadow. Both eyes. the living and the life!eas, were now dwelling on his countenance, which I hay', •not "yet described, nor reed L Nese!. yet was there.- beautiful soul that did not I,stamp upon the outward man some reflex .of itself; and, therefore, whether N6rman -Beth une's] face •*andfigure .were' perfect" or not, matters not- • "It is nearly fioi.bed," mechanirallv said the Lady Ja Wi fr e looked dull tha t . day. and her r eyelids were heavy as with tearr— (as,l beard. many a whisper say) ti hnrsh fa titer gave ber just cause to - shed.• "Yes, yes, I ought , to fini.h it," hurriedly replied the artist, as if more in-answer to his own thoughts than to her, and be began.to paint; hut evermore something was wrong. He coeld not work well ; and then the lady Jane erns summoned away, returning with a weary look; in which wounded feelings strug gled with pride, .onee too we plainly heard (I know my master'did, for he clinched his bands the while).-the earl's angry voice, and Sir Authottv's hoarse laugh ; and when the Lady Jean came back,.. it was with a .pale stern look. pitiful in one so younj. ' As she resumed the sitting, her thOughts evidently were wandering, for two great-tears stole into her eyes. ana!dowtt het Cheeks. Well-a-day ! my master maid not paint them; but he felt them in his heart. His brush.fellbis chest heaved with emotion—he advanced a step. Murmuring '"Jean Jean," 'without the "Lady;" and then recollected himself; and. with a great struggle remmedlis brnskind went palntiing on., She had never once looked or stirred:' The -ink sitting came—it was hurried and brief, for there seemed• something not trite right in the house. and as we - came - to 'the castle, Nonage and lifor be had got% in the habit of always tak'sg me borne with him.) heard something about'' a marriage:' and !Sir Anthony.'. 4 . I felt my poor patter-elit:l -.der Jobe stood:.::. Thelady Jean. rose to bid-the artist' adieu. She had seemed; agitated during the sitting Alia:lei, but was quite are-now. " Farewell,' she said, and stretched vet 'hen hand to - him witha.,looki - fint af:. the esti% Am:Titter, theu'ottbor‘orriens Only tile 'no inanc , gentle, kindif,aren binder; liet.'never fOrrecticg her maidelair reserve. Lthault you' she added, - tot. then* ft - 0 ibialabe laid her bandattieneYbut for your companionship.; and she paused as if she Rheum, 'ltsrlitqatita otcfuntg, Venifa, •g,nrsban Eterning,liegteder 10, 100. . *raid have said friendaldp, Ytt . feared. You' _ •I have dons rue good . ; 'you have', elevitted nip tmind; and from yon I learned; • what else I might never have.viOne; reverenee. for I Ulan. - 'Pod Les yob with a . life of horror. and fame, and what is rarer still, happiness she half sighed, eitended . her' hand without looking toward him;' he clasped a Mot:tient, end then•---she was gone, • 1•• master stared 'dizzily around/ell - on his I:dees beSide me and groaned out the anguish of his spirit Ills - only wort; were, `lean, Jean, so goof, so Pure the' earl's. daur e , rdire and I the poor *artist Its he de parted he.monneel'them out - once, more, kiss ed passionately'My unresponsive image, and fled; but-not ere , the Lady Jean; believing him gone; and coming to catch the Precious likeness, had silently entered and seen' bile thit. . . . . She "stotdsilence, gazing the way he had t h'er arms folded on her heaving breast. She• Whispered to herself, 'Oh ! noble heart ! Ohl noble heart !' and her eyes light ed, and a look of rapturous pride • not:pride of rank, dawned in the .face of the earl's dauglf.-r. • Then .he too knelt and kissed me, but soleriMly even with tears: The next dr4y, 'which was to have been that of her forced marriage with Sir Authonv, Lady Jean had fled. She, escaped. in the night, taking with her her' old nurse and me, whom she hid in her bosom. You Will 'Trot follow the poor artist to wed him P said . the none. ' Never P Answero the Lady Jean,: "I would lire alone by (he labor of my hands ; but I Will keep true to hitu till my death. 1:or my father who has cursed the, and cast me off, here I renounce my lineage ; and am no longer an Esir9 daughter!. So she went forth, anti her places knew: her no more. Foi months, even years, lay shut •up in l. 71 1 •1. 1104;, .4:.:llCi!ry over oxiice , e.l to the light of day t but I did not mut mur ; I knew that I was kept as you mortals kesp your heart's best treasure in the silence anti secrecy of love. Sometimes 4te at night, a pale Wen- rieil hand would - unNasp . tur oov.oring,.and 4 face, worn iudv.d, but having a sweet .re-. nose, sash as I had never seen in the form e r lady Jean, would '-coins and bend over me with an intense gaze, as intense as that of) Norman Bethune, under which I btu] glowed into life. Poor Norman if be had known. All this. while I never heard my mastet.'s name. Lady Jean (or Mistress Jean, as I- now called her) never uttered it, even to - solitude • and me. But once, when she had shut lier self up in her poor,chantlAr„ she, bat reading' some tapers with smiles, oftener with lovin• tears, and. then placed th 4 fort/pnents with . the in my hiding place; and seS—soine magic bond existed between my masted.- and rue, his soul's child—Lsati shining, in the ()silk,' the name of Neiman Bethune, and read all that Lady Jean - read. ,lle had become theiptirktri.. ClllolateiMo- -- ; ---- - - net - ut=ine face Norman had loved 7s . the face which more than any in the wide world would de ighteu at theecho of Lis. fame — even my 'faint being became penetrated with an almost human joy. One night Lady Jean took me ont with an agitated hand. She had doffed her ordinary dress, 'Which. now chatiged the daughter of . an earl into the likeness of a poor ,gentlewo man. She looked So:mall - rig like. her olden self—something like me; the fonts of the dress was the -aide; I saw she had m tde it sertipulously like; but there was neither eel: vet, nor lace, nor pearls, only the one red rose, as•vou may see in me, was- once more. - p'avied in her bosom. _lad to find Any child won out into society, said the nurse hobbling in; though the folks she will meet, poor anthers, artists, to usicians, and Such like, are unmeet com pany for the lady Jean. . 'But not for the birunle Jean Douglass,' she answered, gently smiling—the smile not ofgitlhotisl, but. or malureitwomanhood,-tliat has battled with and. (.onquered adversity t and•w hen the nurse had gone, slie - took me out again, untimeritig, • I mntvel will he k no w; me now 1"• I heard ber come home that night.. It was late; : but she took mu up once more and looked at me with a :sttohge joy, though mirOerl :with tears ; yet the only Wonis I heard ber say : were those .she had - uttered once before In the d to years . past=' Oh f •no ble hervt—ltirive Doble heart !' and the fell on .her knns And prayed. . . My dear master I—the author of my be ing 1 I met his eyes once rnos , e*. Ile took me in his hand' and looked at me with play- Tul compassion, not criie free from emotion. 'And this bow I painted it I It was scarce worth preserving., Lady Jean,' • •: ',Mistress Jean,' pray yon; the"name best suits me now, Mr. Bethune,' silts !aid with gentle dignity.. - . . I knew my master's race well. I had seen it brighten with the most passionate roimira :;ion as it turned on the lady Jean of old ; but never did' see a look 6111:h as that which- fell on Jean Douglass now—.earnest, tender,dahn — . its boyish idolatry changed into that rev erence with which a man turns to the woman who to hitt is above all women. In it one could mace the whole life's history of Nor ' man Bethune. , . • 'Jean,' he 'sAid so gently, so naturally, amt she hardly started to hear biro use, the name, 'hare you in truth given. tip alt V , • . , Nay. all' Inds forsaken me, but I faar not; though I stand alone, heaven has protected n3eand will, evermore: • . Amen said Norman Bethune: Par don me, but our brief acquaintance—a few Weeks then, a few weeks now---sectiti to 'coin 'prebend a .rit4- I tim - e. * lie topic her hand, hut titnorouslv` • she were again tte,earrs tlauiliter .aud :be the poor artist.' too trembled and ehang ed color, less like the'pple:;seiene . lass; thin the bonny lAdyliesin, whose'grylisli portrait he once drew.. Norrnau spok‘ again ; 'and' speatifig,7lfis grave thanhood seemed to concentrate all its ,passion in the words' - •. 'tea - rshsti:e-,cbittiedia some meastite. my fortubes IstleariC though tiut • MC: the .unknown artist—now sit at pri , ncely ta bles, and visit in aolyle ;I am glaa l ; , for honor tome is honor to.my art,) t as it should he.: And his fees was lifted 'with noble pride. rtdded, rzleautiful 4hough leis unworthy tOwerds- rues, ; I writ still unworthy towards you. If were - 16 woo you, I should do so not u an artist who- cared to sC.:k an, earl's deughler, but as a * man *ho felt that his best'der.ieits Vire, poor, compar:ed to those of the wolian to las lon eed all his.•lice,. and honoted , -abOire all the world.' ~~ , Very calnAhe stood—very still s until there , run , a quiver over face--over her whole - If -acne. " I J, an--4i.an•l cried N'orman Bethune, as the forced composure of his speech 'tidied from it; and lyzcanie transmuted' into the pas sion of a man who has thrownhis whole life's hofe upon oue chance, 'if you do not.seorn 1 tne--nay, that you cannot `do--but if, you wil ribt repulse me-if y`ou will forge( your 'liable Dame, and bear that whieh, with God's blessing, I•will, make noble- ay, nobler than any of your earl's!—if you,will give up all dreams of . the halls where you were born, to lake refuge in 'a lowly home, and be cherish ' ed - in a poor man's loving briatstthen Jean I)oug lass, come' ' I will !' she answered: , I.le.took tier in his fell arms; al the strong =IA pride fell from him, be lean ed over her, and wept. For . 'wee , litk. months ,ifterwatirs; .nobody thought of me. I might ; have expected it ; yet suruchoiv it was sad .to lie in, tny :still ciailini?sl=, and never hel9oked at at all. But I had done thy work,,and was content, • At last I was bniught frthn rev till hiding piaci?, and indulged , with the light of (1115%- 1 snide(' beneath this touch of.. Lady Jean, evs n now Lad a lingering teruderneEs in it—inwe for me thin for , any other of her best treasures, Look, Norman, look 1' stretehinz ont.her left hand.' AM I lay therein,. I felt :Its golden. . wedding-ring preas against my t.mooth. ivory. Narrnati put down .his brush, and came mining. to his young wife's side: • What l—do you keep that still t' Why, Jean, what.a boyish job it is! The features nearly. approach to Queen Elizabeth's-- beau ideal of art, as she commanded her ovVit por trait to be drawn, 'tis one broad lied, with out a single shadow. And look how ill drawn the shoulders are, and what an enor mous awkwaid suing of pearls' • Jean .snatetpd me up and kissed me. 'You shall not, NOrman—l will hear no.blame of the poor miniature. I love it, T. tell you— and -you love it too. there.'-. And she held me playfuly to my maker's lips, which now I touched not for the first time, as he knew well. 'When we grow Italian be set in gold and garnets, and I will - wear it even time htis!bAnd teases to - remember the - days when he first tahght roe to love him and in loting•him to love all that it noble in um . 11 ., And then Norman-- - -.::_ But Ido not see hat I have any business to reveal further. I did attain to the honor of 2.0 . Id and gam es, and fortned into a bracelet, I fig ured centricity laughed, and said that she did oce the self that her husband loved, for his sake. So years went la, until fairer things . than bracelets adoined the arms of the painter's wife, and she eatne•to . see her own likeness in deattr tyres than my pcor iv, ry. So her oru• atrimis—my , elf among the rest—were slow ly pit b:; and at last I used, to, lie for months untouched iiave by. tiny baby fingers, which lOW And that poked into ihe • casket to see ' mamma's picture.' At . `.ength• there came a change in my des tiny. i wls worked by one of those grand est of revolutionist-I—A-a yelling lady in her teens. Mamma. %it:at is the Use of -that ugly bracelet V I beard ore day. `Give me the miulature to hare made into a brooch. lam ,:ixteen;-- . quite old enough to wear one, and it will be eo nice to have the likeness of my U inainsua: Mrs. Betitune could refuse nothing to her eldest, dittighter . =-lier hope—her comfort-- hertdsterlike companion.. So, with many an anxious charge concerning me, I was de spatched to the jeweler's. Ihrtte to be touch ed by stringers, and durin g the whole time of my sojouin at the jewelefs I shut up my powers pf observation irLa dormouse like doze from which I was only iawakened by the ca m' fingers vf.Migs Anne Betht:n., whO had rusbed with me into the Tainting room, call ing on papa . and. mamma to admire an old friend in a new face. lis that the dtar old miniature r aaid the • The husband and wife looted at me then at one . another, and smiled, . Though both now - glie.Ol into middle age, ytit in that. af fectionate4Anile I saw revive the faces of - No:- min Bethune and the Lady . Jean. I do Lelid've there is someth , ng talismanic in that . portiait,' , said young Anne,. their daughter tTo day; at the jeweler's, I was stopped by a di-agreeable b!d genueinari,wll6 stared at ma and thew at the niiniature, and finally: questioned ude „shout my . name, anil my parent..., until .I was fairly wearied of his impertitience. A contediptable, malicious. .eyed creature he loOke'd ; brit the jeweler paid him all attention, since, as I afterwards learned, he was Sr,l • Anthony A.-;---;1, who succeeded to all.the estates of his . tiolisin, the earl - - Bethune put me down on the table, and leaned her - tend on 'her hand ; perhaps dome mernories of her yeah eame'over heron heating those leursilentintmes. tier }Unhand glanced at her . with a restless doubt—same men will be so jealous over the, lightest tho't of one they love. But jean put bar , aim in his, with; a look , so serene. so clear, that he stooped 4own and kissed her yetisearce faded cheek. 00, my own wife--go tell our , daughter all.' - _ . 'Jean .Bethune and her child both went.oUt 4ogither i t, 'and - 46 hen they returned;,there was a protid'glaw ou Anne's cheek- - -IThe looked sa like her mother, or rathei so likinte , . She calked down the stud,,io; WWI'S a large room where bang piettres that might well , make the fear` I to ehiitn" ;broti.herhood With them, though the same htrid created them and `me. Amur turned Ur - radiant eye*frorreotia AO the other, then went up lathe arthst - and "emlikse ed him.; i s. rither, I would rather be .your daugh!er that shire the honors of the Ifonglesiei; Anne' Beth doe' were me 'veir' 'after 'year, until, the fashion ming 4itughtein, if; their min; begin 'to lanfei' at my ancient,-wetting, 'and-L•nelforays mock at the rude art of "grand miimmesrdayL But this was newa in gianclmamma's pres- .. . . .... . . . . . . . , . . . . . .. . c:. - •- --- • - . ~. - c ' ~...., .-. ~,: . .c. .....:.. -... ~ • ~.---.• • . . .. . . .. . ... _ . , . ....miw .../ . . , .. . ..... .. . . .... . ; • , ...- - ...... : ~.,-. ,; :.,....;. -,..:',, ~...:,,., - ence, ivhere still I found 'myself at tithes; my . pale 'eyes beheld the_ face of *bicb my own 'bad been -a Mete btidow—:-but of which the-shadow - was new left As the only. tnethorial. " And was this indeed Foy, krincimammar many an eager voice would ask, when my poor self was calla into . itte;tioit.- "Were you ever this vonm; girl; end, did you really wear these 'Ewa utiftil 'pearls,: and live in a' castle, and hear yourself called 'the lardy Jean l' tr And tralidattithina would lay down her spectacles add.look pensively out with her calm beautiful eyes. Oh I how.doubly beau tiful they Seemed in.age, when all other love liness had gone. , Then she would gather her little, flock monad her, and .tell for the hut% dreth tinari, the story cf herself and Norman Bethune---leaning geitly, as with her parent- . feelings she had now learned- to do, on the wrongs received from her own father f - and lingering with ineffable tenderness on the noble nature of Lim who Lad won her heart, More through than ever by the futeiniattons of his genius. She -dwelt oftener on this; when, in her closing years, he was taken be f,rre her to Lis retst; and while the memory of the great • painter was honored on earth, she kncir that the pure soul of the virtuous man awaited her,`Lis lieloved, in heaven. "Ancl, yet, grandniarnma," Said the most visitive of the little winsome elveS whom' the old lady loved, who, with me in her hand, had lured Sim. Bethune to..a full hour's con verse about olden day s-'--"grandinarn ma, look ing back on your ancient lineage! and would you not like to have it said of you that you .were an earl's daughter l" "No she.answered. "Say, rather that 1. was Norman 13etta re's wife." T waked, niad found myself gasl4.bn the blank white curtains from whence the fantas mat, ima ge of• the Lady Jean had melted away. Ilut stilt, through the mystic stillness of the - dawn, t,seemeJ w have a melancholy ringing in my ears—a sort of arylkyn's cry— " lost—lost—lost!" Surely it wag the unquiet ghost of the miniature thus beseeching resti tution to its original - on nerr. "Rest thee, perturbed spirit I" mid I, addressing -the , or nament that now. lay harmlessly on the dress ing-table—a brooch, and nothing more. "Peace! Though all other means have failed, perhaps thy description going out into the world of letters mny procure thy indenti- Ocation. !—I have it—l will -write thy autobiography." • Reader,it is done. I have only to add that 'the miniAure was- found- iu Edinburg, in 'August, 1i349, and will be gladly - restored to the right owner, lest the unfortunate author I should be again visited •by the phantom of Lady. Jean. THE 3IUSICIA S- MARRIAGE, tkitoVeT; un.4 , • The day after he came, his apartrnent - was entered by a stranger—an old man, whose appearance indicated' misery and buffeting. The.great musician received him with a cor diality which he - would not, perhaps, have shown.. to a nobleman. Encouraged by his kindness, his visitor said I come to you, sir, as a brother. Excuse me if I take .tbi notwithstandiog the distance that dig sides us; but formerly I could boast of some still in playing on the piano, and be givipo instruction I gained a comfortable livelihood." Now I am old, feeble, burdened with a large family, and destitute of pupils. I live at Nu- 1 remburo,,, but I crime to Prague to seek to- re cover the remnant of a small ,property which belonged to my ancestors. Although nomi nally sueztesful; the expense of a long lid ga tion has more than swallowed: up the trifling .sum I recovered. To-morrow I set out fur home—penniless?' 4 And you -have- come to tool- You have done well, and I thank you forthis proof of your esteem. Tu atssist a brotht:r professor _is to--me more than' a duty—it is a pleasUre. Artists should have their •purse.in common ; and if fortune neglects, some in order to treat others better Viso they de-serve; it only makes 'it more necessary to _preserve the equilibri um t y fraternal kintine-e. That's my system; so. don't speak of gratitude, for I feel that . 1 only discharge a debt?' As he utteied that. gentrons words, Lisiz opened a drawer in his writing case, and starttd when be.saw that his depository fin his money contained but three ducats. _ Ile summoned his servant. " Where i+ the money !" he asked '• There sir," answered the man,' pointing to the open drawer. " There! -Why there's scarcely anything!" I know it; If you please Et remember, I told you yesterday that the cash was near ly exhausted." " You see, mY dear brother," said L;stz, smiling, " that for the moment, I am no rich er than you ; but that does not trouble me ; I have coedit, and can mane mhuey start from the keys of my piano. However, as you are in haste to leave Prague and return - home you shall not be delayed by my present want of funds."- - Sti.sayibg, ke opened another drawer, and taking ont a splendid medallion, gave it to the old.tnan. "There," said be . 4 that will do. Itvasi,a present made the by the Emp eror of Austria—Lis own portrait set in dia monds. ale painting is nothing remarkable, but the.‘totieS are fine. • Take them anti 'die tidie of thekind whitlaiet they biing shall be Yours." - .'rise old musician fried sit rain to decline sef richlt gift.' ' Listz would not hear tir a re fusal, and the poor Wan at length withdrew, itiO4ing,the choicest blessings of Heaven on his generous benefactor, lie then. repaird to the shop of 'the principal jeweler , in the city, in order to Bell thit diaruondi. geeing a miserably-dressed Mari' nniious. to dispose of mignifieentjewels, the master of the shop naturally,suspected hoesty ; and while, appearing to,eaamina the diamonds:with (dote attention, he whispered a few words in, the ear%of eae' of his assistants. The latter Went Mit-arid speedili - aceotniwinietl by stwitraPsoldiers of the police i who--arrested :the, pahoppy,artist, is spite of :his prokeatio; ti9l l 9f: • • p -.. '!'tots Must first icon, to p riaoti; tey . aaia; arterial& yop can give an explanation to the Magistrate' - = ' 't • Theprisoaer 'trete st few line* to his bete= factor, imptoting his ,assistance.-- Lists has tened. to the jeweler. `Sir,' said. Comb he,..•,you have... Caused theaarret arm innocent man. -to 'wii-h me •_ itnine- Alierely,.ariti let us have hirii released. Lte is the. Lawful owner of the jeleli: in . preitien, .for I.gave khem...te • aii"..asked the merchant,'' who' are .you 'Afy namo. is I.dou't know any-rich men of that name.' . That may be ; yet; I ;am tolerably well known 2.. . - 'Ate you.awa.c that the:As dismonla are .worth six. thousand ilorins .1' . So much the better for hint on'whom-I have bestowed them:„ - . But, in order , to make such a prosent,you must be very wealthy:. . , • My actual fortune consists of three du• cats: - . Tintryou are a magician I' 'By no t, means; and yet, by just MOving• my fingers; Ireatr obtain as much Indney as wish." ----- • • You must be a magician 'lf you choose, 11l di:seiose yoti the mu gic I.employ.l Listz had been a iano in the parlor be. hind the shop: 1J opened it and ran his fingers over tho ley° then, Seized •by sudden . inspiration, he'improvised one. of ilith;e soul Couching symphonies peculiar to Eiruself. As_he sounded the first chord; a be:jutiful_ young lady entered the' room. While the: melody continued she remained . .ipeecbless Ind-immovable ;" then, as the last .note died away, she cried, with irresistable enthusiasm, `Bravo, Listz 'tis wondrous Dost thou know hito,then, my daughter r 'asked'the jeweler. .• `This is the first time I hive had the i;kastire — Of seeing or hearing him,' replied she; 4 bat-1 know that none living, save Listz . can draw siich sounds from, the piano. •-•., Eipreised . with grace and modesty, by a fouu persou of remarkable ..beauty, this; ad miration could not fail to be Mere than flat tering to the artist. 'However, after making his best acknovrtedginerits, tisti tbithtliew i in older to *liver • tlfe prrsetel. and was ac companied by the Merchant: • • • Grieved at his mistake, the *artily met , chant sought to repair it by inviting the Oto musicians to 'supper:. Thelionors of the table were done by his amiable daughter, who .up-• peared Mr less touched at the generosity Of Li4z, thawastonished at his talent. • • _ .That night the musicians of the city sere- . naded their illustrious brother. The nest day the nobles and Most distinguished inhabitants, of Prague presented themselves: at his door. They entreated :him to give some concerts, leaving to himself to fix any sum hepleased as a remuneration. Then the jeweler per- Orived that talent, even in a - pecuniary may be more valuable than theimost preciotN Diamonds. Listz continued' to go to his house; ard, to the merchant's -great joy,. \he erveived that his daughter waS the .cause of . . point with erman ran. has, rat How do you like my daughter?' 'She is an angel !' ' What do you think of marriage !' think so well of it that I haW.s the great est possible inclination to try it.' What would you say to a fortune of - three million of francs?' would willingly accept it.' Well; we . undetatand each othcr.'_;My datgliter plexuses you, you please lily d-augli• TAT'. 'Her fortune is ready; be my son-1n- With a' my heart' 'The marikage was celebrated the-following wek. And this; accordit.g to the chronicles or Pra!nte, is a true account of the marriage of the great and good pianist, Lista. - Tag SILR!kICE or AN ARTIC following eloquent description of the lecture Of an Artic night occurs in Dr. Hays's on the Attic Regions.. We. have, at least upon one occasion, when eight or nine miles wider ground in the Marrimoth Cave, seem ed to fed the darkness,butve never imagined that other negative attribute of nature. silence, Could be On intense as to be heard. • Yet" the Doctor's description: makes this strange pare d:lx a reality. lie says: •!. "The moonlights of this period (winter) are the most grand awl impressive of anything I have witnessed. The clearness. of the the white surface of the snow and ice give..it fin effect monotonous and cheerles;, but truly grand. But there is 'a new eliment which makes this mid-winter moonlight seem almost terrible in: its impressiveness—it is silence. "I have often, to escape from the trying monotony of shipboard life,-gone off six or eight miles irk the inferior in search of novelty, and itilorder that I might be alone. There, seated;ugort a tock or snow bank; I look around melnd see a great uneven coun try, rocky bills'and glaciers, covered with snow, Myriads of chrystal gems.sparklin4in the light of tlio pale moon, which shoots its rays down through the crisp air, making it almost as light as day. I look seaward, and Pee n: long - plain of ice, nielting into the,hor rizon, -dotted , all' over, with huge totvering bergs—iiothing more., . "All nature is in the repose of death. I am too far from the, shore to Gear the crunch- ing of tlus cable s as they rise and fell lazily with the tide, or the rear; ike distant thunder, as some lame. crack ;opens through the heiiy does. There is no 'animal to cross My path, no tree among whose branithes the, wind can sigh and moan. _There. is no song Of bird, to enliven the scene, no wild. beast to howl. I stand 'theist alone, the oniy'repre sentative of God's - living world--tho ,only be int , that has life or can move. EVe.ry sound that I hear, every motion that,see, is made;, by Myself. I hear nothing but the pulsations 'of my own heart; nip own footsteps, and .now a nd tb(in, pMeiblv; in the distance, tW deep rumbling of a falling snow tank: Vaitatesa-. tion'ofiutter - loaelinesi and iselatiOu creeps : over !nil,' ity heart beats as rughtia the, blood through -the sensitive organ,oriliu ear;, m lam oppressed with discordant Silence has ceased to be negative'; it has be , I hear-we and fuel it. ~ltti'.presne to nendurabli.. ipring,to my l'eet_l Plint them. 'heavily . in' the brio,' to drown - its, presence, red ` I rush hack to the vessel, glad — even to find :refuge: iii its-dull, dull life of hOrrid insult/Atli:ft sarWhat's to eap o d maids from des pairing." "Pairing." V . gititnte. i1:1-: •V,ii:!4:ii.,,,4-4:•; ILLY 1.4 I , beard a ' rich_ :.stiaf,y,• a.. t wo .. - since,.(says. the . Iktroit...:Advertiser;): by victiur himself , hicli we: think tee'' good :16 1 keit!, and we.therefore take'-the'vliberty . of . laying it before our readere: art near. ae may ire,.in our.frierit're •-' "Spoitkiig of this.litacli prOtinse curse," - said Sreitb, after some conyeation „had ; heen carried cn -by , ' th ertal•rd 11; the attlir--" speaking tillA breach of promi4t, CASV, reminds 'me tr. t'l.ira~'e alittlas: experience in 'that - natter, ;Myself: don't mean to pay -that 1: was - ever 'situated as this fellow ie, but I. hkre,fult zitrout'ar4:ildac he would, audit' you- *Gold likelo - hettrit; I wilt tell you -low it wri.r." _ .;, . . All haying sig4ied. a wishtelioar,h4ro ceeded - - ... Well, as near a. -I can -remember, fifteen years, age thi swinter, that I,Attetided a dancingsehoolin Detr6ft, with ilairaght-' . - dy.tbea . residing lit the city. I I had made rig - mind so:ire...years .thtt never would get married ; .but -it was .5u0,1445-. ant bthsinesS that I couldn't find in my.. heart to,let rho - girls' alone . altogether, so - I paid- -herttrition - fee' arid * itteirdial . : the class in • her-. company . ereery . " night. - Aunt,: the middle of tiro- term, SeVeral of the young peo • pie, ourselves included; 'were;talking .z in the ball-roori x on.the 1,-of-ederSe, beeame intere4ted, as..wellas the • others . .. • Ou going Immo 'that evening 4 told my coMprr tripe rintd..deterntined to get mar= • t i e d in the spring'aud asked her , advice is regard to making a selecticrnfor it Wife. Ske made no.reply for. 4, nsomerif.:;-and I told her if she didn't know any, body atter fitted for me I would like to liare,fier, think; the mat; 'ter 'river, - and it>ll me -by the last.schlatiftyhnt - slintheugbt Oflnsarrying me irerw.:4lll.- , ' ' Wit:* ng . all the, time...you -:test tler•ta - nd, and had . no mare thoughti of inar:•.! rying her thhal bad of marrNinghaueen She pr °wised to think nfit, iowever, :and :I • returned rify - fitla rdi trglou, ,, e,. ando*e the . sutpct,ni farti4 , theught, until abate weeks later-and would cia the-last eserring"tif tae sehool, ,the Subjeet ives - itgain brought up-in conyentation,just: Rs; Wei were preparin g 1.9.• return to, our Irom"..forlhe I night: — After, leaiittg, the gall, we:talked and chatted of different - Matters and on different subjects', 'till We • renei: e d ber residence. It was latc-, and '1 .did, not enter the. hoise; • thoug,h she Strongly=-,urged e to do :ao. • had bid, tier geed "night, ,41,4 ...v.fts turning • away; when' I recolle c ted the .liron:rise -she - had made Me,and I said:. " YoLi . promised to let , . ins knew; to-night, whether you would marry me thia • sprin Hare you made - np your.rnind ; '•said she,. " have Wert thinking about it, but .t guess I am too young; If it for. that I would _have nonbjection.7 IVO! . good pikht, • then," . 'said - I. expect you would