112 THE PRINCE OF THE POWER OF THE AIR-A VISION. life, and the whole of his private fortune, to his plans IV. of agricultural and educational improvements. He has not been better treated than the other great bene- And in that dark pavilion slept the wind. factors of mankind, who have had to attack estab- While gazing o'er the ocean far-outspread lished prejudices. At first his attempts drew upon The dreamy moon enchained my passive mind. him the odium of the aristocratic party, which were I saw the lazy billow raise its head, suspicious of his intention and the consequences of his plans, and subsequently the democratic party assailed him, thinking his plans equally hostile to their interests. And then sink down as if it sank with dread— V. In the appendix our author gives a short but interesting account of an agricultural school for orphans at Fearnhead, near Warrington, Lancashire, in which the Swiss model has been successfully followed by Mr. Cropper, a member of the Society of Friends, whose efforts in this direction are so laudable. The little volume is exceedingly well timed, and will tend to give a proper turn to that excitement and inquiry which now exist on the subject of national education. We again and again claim our reader's attention to the whole book, which may be read As though his restless spirit semed to say through in a single evening. His hair was white-his ample forehead high; The inward agony was too intense For her controul-too fearful for her sufferance. VI. From the Dublin University Magazine. And then his features changed; a sudden fear, THE PRINCE OF THE POWER OF THE AIR. With chains of ice-for now did he's appear THE PRINCE OF THE POWER OF THE AIR.-A VISION. For now the rude waves, wakened by the gale, X. I turned to where he pointed; crying "See;" 113 Thou shalt for ever be, for we reserve save." XV. So spoke my weird companion where we were Then howled the winds-the shores cried out aloud, Of strange and distant worlds, and still we saw And, like a vast, innumerable crowd, The frantic billows rose to grasp the cloud, As if the hosts of hell came bursting from her doors. XI. And then, retiring, all the waves deplored, XII. The thunder rose, and gave his mandate-then ΧΠΙ. Again the thunder rose-the lightnings came, The red round moon before us, and were brought XVI. Throned in the moon one sat, while clouds fell round I felt my senses stunned, as with a blow, XVII. That was the King of Torment; fearful name! When Fear's dark form, while nations dread to Stands in the shadowed moon and awes the world beneath. XVIII. Recovering now, I thought I saw a star Beneath, the earth seemed throbbing through her But some elysium shone there free from storm 114 ON SEEING A MANIAC SUDDENLY SMILE.-TO THE EARTH. XX. And all the majesty of earthly thrones, XXI. And surely never did the morning break When years and years were spent in longing to be free. XXII. As when from far, beneath the glowing sky, O'er the low ruins, as o'er the dead, to mantle all. XXIII. So did the distant moon appear, as now And lives with me as strong as passion or regret. xxiv. And now we stood upon the moonlight beach, XXV. It was a lovely hour; the mild moon flung The worn-out west-wind in his slumber sighed ; From the Metropolitan. ON SEEING A MANIAC SUDDENLY SMILE. BY MRS. EDWARD THOMAS. WHERE are those poor thoughts wand'ring now? Almost a sunny gleam Broke o'er that melancholy brow, To light its cheerless dream! The transient joy it brought! O! was it borne on Future's wings, It cannot of the Present be, Wrapp'd in the fearful gloom Of dull and drear insanity, Which antedates the tomb! Ah! sure it was of that fair sky, Where reason lives againIn holy calm reality, Releas'd from folly's chain! An angel, from that bright abode, To light the maniac's brooding dreams From the Christian Observer. TO THE EARTH. SPEED on, thou ancient bark, Through æther calm and pure: To pining sense a prison dark; To patient faith a sheltering ark; Charter'd with heaven's own royal mark, In covenant blest and sure! Around the Isle of Light, Thy beacon-tower, the Sun, Trace, like a bird, thy eireling flight; CHRISTIAN ASPIRATIONS.-CONVERSATION. Wrapt in cool shades, or flashing bright, Tell how thy course hath run. Haste; for thou bear'st the dead; Of youth's gay dance; and hope hath spread Launch'd in Creation's morn, Through Time's majestic portals; Unanchor'd and unmoored, On thee is risked our all! Haste ruin round thee raves; Time's ancient arches shake! Haste for no home in thee, Our heaven-bound spirits find; Our wistful eyes no anchorage see, In time or space, or earth or sea; No rest in all immensity For man's immortal mind, THE PRESS. Hail Messenger from land! Sent from those shores unknown, By Him whose scarred, yet conquering hand Around his Father's throne! From the Sunbeam. 115 F. M. S. CHRISTIAN ASPIRATIONS. 'Tis not that earth affords no pleasures Which he may taste with pure delight; It is that brighter far the treasures Known to faith but not to sight. 'Tis not that there are none around him "Tis not that he would bear no longer 'Tis not that here, in darkness shrouded, CONVERSATION. One thing that occasions our finding so few people who appear reasonable and agreeable in conversation is, that scarcely any one thinks less of what he is about to say, than of answering correctly what is said to him. The most artful and complaisant people content themselves with affecting to pay attention to what is said, whilst it is evident, from their looks and manner, that they are little attentive to it, and impatient to take up the conversation, without reflecting that they thus offend others, and fail to convince them on any point. Listening attentively, and answering to the purpose, is the perfection of conversation. THE PRESS. The press is a messenger of truth, the herald of science, the interpreter of letters, the amanuensis of history, and the teacher of futurity. Like the sun, it dispels the gloom of night, irradiates the shade of ignorance, and pours a flood of knowledge on the world: it dilates the perceptions of man, extends his intellectual vision, inspires his heart with sensibility, and his mind with thought, and endows him with past and present omniscience; it directs his way to the temple of fame, and discovers to him the path by angels trod to Zion's holy hill. From the Dublin University Magazine. Jed my pronunciation, and sung ballads for my amusement with all the good-humour and simplicity imagi nable. Then, they had a pet bulfinch, which was THE THREE WIDOWS OF FRANKFORT. mightily taken with my whistling of the Irish melodies, which he would sometimes echo with a truth MANY years ago, whilst travelling on the continent, I was attacked by a slow fever, which, after and we looked into the garden, ten to one there sate that was really surprising and if it was evening, clinging to me for some time, and baffling all my old Carl Openheim in the arbour, with his pipe in his efforts to shake it off, fairly got the better of me, and laid me on a bed of sickness at Frankford-on-the mouth, and by his side, filling up the rest of the narrow bench, might be seen his wife, the roundest, Maine. The inn at which I put up was clean and neatest little housewife that ever existed, in her orderly; but an inn, in its best estate, is a desolate and uncomfortable halting-place for an invalid, and Then, towards twilight, we often heard the heavy small, close cap, and her knitting in her hand. as soon as I was sufficiently recovered for the exer step of Herr Steinbach, followed by the entrance of tion, I applied myself to find private lodgings, as my his somewhat burly person,-when I considered it medical attendant declared that it would be still some only prudent to beat a retreat to my own apartment, weeks before I could safely travel. which, (it is no wonder,) seemed rather solitary. The apartments I engaged were in the house of a tobacconist named Openheim, who kept a small shop time Amelia, having taken me aside for the purpose, So six weeks passed away, and, at the end of that in the town, and had his private dwelling in a narrow informed me, with much blushing and giggling, that street, near the outskirts. I was so pleased with the the ensuing Monday was fixed for the celebration of neatness of the dwelling and the quietness of the her sister's marriage, and that she was commissioned situation, that I unhesitatingly engaged the rooms to give ine a formal invitation to be present. for the whole term of my intended stay. 66 All our relations and friends are invited;" said The family with whom I sojourned, consisted of a she, even my little sister, Roschen, is coming from father, mother and three daughters-the eldest of school on purpose, for it is the first wedding in our whom, named Gertrude, was twenty-five years of age; family, and as it is a far better match than any of us the next, Amelia, twenty; and the youngest, a little could reasonably have looked for, my parents wish girl of twelve or thirteen, called Roschen; she re-to do Herr Steinbach and my sister all possible sided, principally, with a distant relative, who kept honour." a sort of school at some distance, and, at the time of my arrival, was absent. The two elder sisters were to the ensuing Monday with much pleasant anticipaI gladly accept the invitation, and looked forward smart, merry, dressy young women, not remarkable tion. for beauty, but still sufficiently pretty to be belles on Here I must just observe, that though Gertrude a small scale, and flirts on a large one, whenever Openheim was about to marry a man much older they found opportunity, This latter quality, indeed, than herself, plain enough, and very rich, there was had deprived Gertrude of no less than seven lovers nothing like a sacrifice in the whole proceeding. Her six of whom being neglected, in succession, for each parents were, undoubtedly, much pleased that she other, were finally revenged by the seventh, who should marry so respectably, but they loved her too neglected her. But, at the time my story commences, dearly to attempt any restraint on her feelings or Gertrude was in possession of an eighth, and he no actions, in so important a matter. She had accepted less a person than a banker, from Cologne-twenty Herr Steinbach of her own free will; her previous years older than herself, it is true, and not particu- flirtations had left no very deep impression on her larly handsome, but supposed to be possessed of no affections, and, amidst all her gaiety and good-huinconsiderable share of that unfailing beautifier-mour, she possessed worldly wisdom to be quite gold. Perhaps Gertrude might not have found Herr alive to the advantages resulting from a marriage so Steinbach quite so charming as she upheld him to much beyond her expectations. Herr Steinbach's be, had he been unprovided with that marvellous offer she considered as a perfect god-send, which it cosmetic. But she was poor; and his choice was a would have been worse than foolish to refuse. disinterested one, at least, which was enough, in Fraulein Gertrude had chanced upon a party, given itself, to win him some share of favour. by a distant relative of Herr Steinbach's, who reThe Openheims were possessed of very limited sided in Frankfort. means, but they seemed, on the whole, a happy of her wealthy relation's arrival, and, though its The fete took place in honour family. They were forced to let their first floor, in- giver stood a little higher in the scale of Frankfort deed, and the daughters took in fine needle-work, society than the Openheims, she was not insensible but they sang their old German songs over their of the value of attractive belles, on such an occasion, tasks, with such cheerful, happy voices, that it did and invited the smart daughters of the tobacconist one's heart good to listen to them. accordingly. Here Herr Steinback met Gertrude, German manners are simpler and less formal than was much struck with her appearance and her gaiety, ours, and almost without effort either on their part or -inquired who she was, was introduced,—and, my own, I became domesticated with them as part forthwith, became her devoted admirer. They had of the family. My sitting-room, commanding a view been engaged a few months, and for the last six of the street, was, for far the greater part of the day, weeks of the period, the somewhat elderly lover had untenanted. Their's, on the ground floor, at the back managed to let his business detain him in Frankfort, of the house, overlooking a pleasant, old-fashioned and at length observed, it was not worth while to garden, was infinitely more agreeable, especially return home till after the wedding. So Gertrude, when those two merry maidens were its inmates. who, to tell the truth, was not yet tired of parading There they laughed at my bad German, and correct-herself amongst her young friends as the betrothed |