the family at the Hall, as heavy punishments as justice warranted awaited his every crime.

The last words of his tutor had made a deep impression on his mind, but he had not the grace to repent candidly. He told the humane Wardlys that he "knew he must be martyred, by their new Queen's hate of the ancient creed, and of all her late sister's partisans;" he made so sure of persecutions that it was with more of shamed surprise than thankful relief he listened to the compromise permitted him, detailed by the legal agent, in presence of Fardel, Wardly, and the Magistrate. Johan sullenly said,

"If my enemies did not know their cause a bad one, they would carry it through, with spirit. It is not in nature to be wronged, as they call themselves, and then act so meekly by the crushed foe in

their power.

"You forget, grumbler," laughed Fardel, "that, easy as is your alternative to trial, beggary, and the stake, merely to sign, not swear, before these gentlemen, then walk from durance, great as you ever had a right to be, and twice as rich as you would have been, had my bold shipmate lived-You forget, I say, that the small price you must pay for all these benefits, is that of writing your name to this parchment, which records you as a coward abducer, and a perjured liar!-Frown not! You have put yourself out of honour's pale; write-Johan de Rohan, or refuse-and be hanged!"

What could he do, but obey in silence? All his personal goods, including his brother's urn, reached him, directly, from the Hall. Guarded, by Glen's servants, against the indignation of the people, this baffled demon sneaked from the scene of his protracted sins; sold his Welsh patrimony, and, with his all, embarked for Spain, where he hid his head in a rigid monastery, and died a raving bigot, not a sincere and hopeful penitent.

The nuptials of Sir Adelm and fair Isabel took place at Court. The Queen's condescensions towards the bride's father guaranteed his popularity with her highest nobles; but the happy party soon returned to Scarborough, as they preferred doing good, in rural retirement, to enjoying the splendid pleasures of town. Craig Glen, the load removed which, for so many years, had weighed upon his conscience, recovered health, spirits, courage, decision, equability of temper, warmth of manner; and, though a peer, still acted as the pastor of his contented retainers. Anthony Fardel, about once in every two years, would pass a month or so at the Hall, to welcome into life the young Vanbergs.

When old Martin closed his blameless days he shared, once more, the resting-place of kind Bettine: and Ambrose Twyford became the head domestic. The Wardlys flourished long, and the Griffin, attributing his mother's "restorance" to his and her "recantatings,' filled many baskets with good works, but no longer for St. Peter, preferring the Protestant Prayerbook to the Catalogue "Predestinant."

Yetlah received, from Lady Vanberg, that unostentatious matronage which a really virtuous wife can afford to grant a once guilty, but reclaimed woman. Sobered and chastened, she was now as the sister

of her strangely loved and injured friend, trusting to be still more so, in a better world. Without running into fanatical extremes, she became, by degrees, a true Christian. Grief had taught her that she could not live without acknowledging, what the whole Universe attested, a God. She longed to pray, and must therefore hope that He was merciful, as well as wise, just, mighty: that honest deeds must please Him. As she became convinced that moral philosophy and practical benevolence conferred pure, lasting peace, she also felt that such harmonious superstructure can only be substantial if erected on the basis of Revealed Religion. That what is called natural, deistical piety, suffices neither to control the passions, nor to solace their woes. The faith, then, most chastely scriptural, most evangelically simple, and free from priestcraft, must, she saw, be best for our interests, here and hereafter. From its source she learnt that Truth is Mercy, for those who, confessing their sins to all men, resolve to "sin no more," with His grace, who condemned not the remorseful one, accused by her fellow culprits. Like Craig, Yetlah, in ceasing to fear truth, could fear nothing. That Elizabeth's creed, principles, and power, restored prosperity to the Glens, made the convert a loyal advocate for monarchy, and titles. She had heard her beloved self-sacrificingly expose, to his mob "liberators," the indirect, unworthy motives that influence unreasoning rioters; she consequently adopted his opinions on that subject, too, and perceived that, in all stations, all parties, a blameless, charitable life, which, by example, may improve those ready to be our friends, is, likewise, our best armour for defeating, and even extorting the respect of our foes.

THE STATUE IN THE BLOCK.

BY WALTER ELLIS.

SHE's there! mine own awaits me. I behold,
Through marble barriers, her unveiled grace,
Her swelling breast, her parted lips, her brow
Of plaintive dignity. She spreads her arms,
She calls on me. How thrilling every word!
"Champion of beauty, wherefore dost thou pause?
How long am I to pine for light and praise,
Imprisoned in this hard, cold stone? beheld
But in thy dreams! Be bold, and set me free!
Fame, wealth, and more, a vision realised
Shall be thy due reward; for thine own sake
Hear me! I live, and ask but liberty,
As did young Ariel from the gnarled oak,
Till an enchanter breathed the counter-spell,
Filling the air with melody and grace."
"Oh artful one! no magic words are mine
With which to call thee, in an instant, forth,
And, if they were, vain, all impatient mistress!

Well as I worship thee, I would not speak them!
Could not forego the months of happy toil,
Of glorious hope, and most ingenious love,
With which I shall be sure to find thee yet.
Yes, thou shalt shine, smooth and immaculate,
To other ages, as now thou dost to mine!
Bless thee, I come! I come! a little while
And I will yet be with thee."-" Still awhile?
Before the Sun rose o'er the Theban plain-
One-he was beautiful-he was untaught-
For years had nourished through degrading toils,
Requited by the laugh of boorish crowds,
High aspirations-He, I say, alone,
Unguided, found his way to one vast heap
Of sand, and, with a lover's haste, removed
The immemorable dust, till he beheld
The features generations past away

Had vainly sought;-then knelt he fervently,
And cried, Oh thou true Memnon! worthy art thou
To welcome the first beams of light with song,
Thou smilest now my welcome in the desert!
Was Memnon fair as I? Memnon, a man,
Or that gigantic fragment."-" Art again!
Is't but a sweeper's task thou settest me?
Can I blow from about thee, with fond sighs,
These natural walls? or melt this snowy heap?
Do I not say thou shalt be? nor alone,
But with a tribe of bright satellites,
Only less bright than thee? Am I not daily,
Ere yet I ply the chisel, studying

The nearest, easiest way, lest e'en a scratch
Should mar one acorn nail, or my rude hammer
Jar on that tiny delicate ear of thine?

My hand is weak, my heart is full of care,
The skies are dim and chill. I must bring thee
My buoyant soul full of its ancient love,
Its daring constancy and tender faith-
And I must usher thee to this world's light
When it is purest, brightest, glowing, soft,
Alive with sweet caprices, like thine own!
My wondrous Goddess, Woman, Sage, and Saint!"

Hush, bark! a laugh? and have I then been watched?
The giddy spies are wearied, and pass on!

In search of pleasures better worth time's waste
Than that of peeping at an idle man,

Of homely features, and of mean attire,
In his poor studio, gazing vacantly
Upon a dingy and mis-shapen block,
Bestrewn with these mechanic implements.

VOL. XCVI.

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For what more could they see? What more see I?
Nay less, while "looking through the gate of horn,"
For, happily, I cannot see myself,

Mine own external contrast to the self

That lives within. That self not mine but thine,
Inspirer of my dreams! Thou wilt be called
My-my Creation-tho' thy presence now

Gilds these bare walls, and turns my tools of trade
To swords, nay sceptres. Those who laugh at me
Before thee shall, with low breathed awe, bow down,
Shading their eyes, and marvelling if indeed

I shall not, at the day of final doom,

Be called on for the soul I ought to add,-
Or pause at less perfection, if unblest

With power to bid it move, speak, think and feel-
Admirers be content!-assured of this-

If in the living world, ye e'er behold
A form, a face so exquisite as her's-
That all within, tho' pure as alabaster,
Like that is hard, cold, and immoveable!

NATIONAL PRIDE.

Or the distinction between Vanity and Pride so much has already been said, we are not about to tax the patience of our readers by entering again on the subject; but intend to trespass a few words upon the Pride that every man should feel who can boast the name of Briton. The triumphs of our Arms, our vast and important conquests, the enormous wealth of our country, its natural resources, our glorious Constitution, and our National Church, are all subjects on which a man may proudly boast;-but there is one characteristic peculiarly worthy of exultation,-the Charities of the land! Look around, and it will be apparent that scarcely one of the manifold ills "that flesh is heir to," but an Asylum is open for the reception of the sufferer, the various Hospitals and Infirmaries, that meet your eye, go where you may, are so many Altars built in honour of the God of all, and where the most acceptable oblation, the alleviation of human suffering, is daily and hourly offered. But we do not restrict our philanthropic endeavours to our own people,-the inhabitants on the banks of the Danube were visited by a severe dispensation of the Almighty, the waters of the great river broke its bounds, carrying ruin and misery in its course; the wretched people reduced to beggary by the fearful inundation, had nothing left but to appeal to the sympathies of their fellow men. Could Great Britain remain deaf to their cries for aid? Proudly we answer, NO. Large sums of money were subscribed and the woes of many sufferers alleviated. We could cite many similar instances, but it is needless; we come at once to the late appalling catastrophe which befel the City of Hamburgh-a con

flagration destroying a vast portion of that fine old Hanse town, and. consequently plunging into poverty and wretchedness thousands of its industrious inhabitants, occurred but a few short weeks ago.Again did England stretch forth its aiding hand, our princely merchants soon congregated together, and from their body a Committee was formed to take the necessary measures for obtaining subscriptions, and disposing of their amount for the immediate and most beneficial relief of the afflicted. The exertions of these excellent men were crowned with singular success. Our gracious Queen, her Royal Consort, and the Queen Dowager, were amongst the first to place their names upon the list of donors; in an incredibly short space no less a sum than £20,000 was remitted. Blankets and bedding were liberally supplied by orders of the Government, and up to this moment exertions continue making in aid of the suffering Hamburghers. We perused, with painful interest, the various accounts which appeared in our Journals, but our attention has been directed to the following letter, a dear friend, who was present during the scene of devastation, assuring us that it contains a most perfect and authentic detail of the calamity. We are aware that it has already appeared in print, but we are desirous to obtain for it a more lasting existence than that usually bestowed upon communications addressed to the daily Newspapers. The writer is an amiable and highly talented young lady, daughter to one of the most influential men in the City of London.

"Hamburgh, 9th May.

"I know not, my dearest mother, whether my few hurried ill-written lines of Friday last, penned in the midst of the most terrible anguish and trouble, and confided to the care of a passer-by who was going to Altona, have ever reached you. At all events, before you receive this you will have heard of what a dreadful misfortune and of what a heart-rending spectacle this poor city has been the theatre and the prey. Before continuing, however, or rather commencing my sad recital, I must hasten to assure my dear papa that his houses in the Neuer Jungfernstieg have remained untouched; for though I know they are insured, this news will certainly be agreeable to him after hearing of the disasters which have reigned here-I may say which still reign, and will for a long time.

"On Thursday morning, Ascension-day, the 5th instant, my sister, her husband, and I, walked to the French church. Frederick, on taking away the breakfast, told us that since eight or nine o'clock a terrible fire had been raging in the Deich Strasse. Papa, who knows the distance between the Neuer Jungfernsteig and the Deich Strasse, will agree that we had no cause for alarm. In coming out of church, the servant said to Madame Parish (who you are aware lives in the country, and had come thence this morning direct) that she could not go to her town-house in the carriage; that twenty-two houses had already been totally burnt; that, in fact, hers was in great danger, and that the fire was becoming more and more formidable. A few hours afterwards came the news that the house of Mr. Parish was no more; and that the flames were spreading every instant.