stranger in the house, and had come to see him, | limbs now tottered under him; and instead of the but how much was I shocked and surprised when hale hearty man of fifty, that he had been, he beI beheld Henry Fitz-Maurice-his cheek sunken came prematurely old, and seemed sinking rapidly and pale, his eyes red and swollen, his whole frame into the grave. emaciated; and, alas! how much changed from what I had last seen him. 66 It was at this time that he received my letter, announcing the illness of his son, and informing Henry," said I, "I am hurt to see you here him of Henry's determination never to be carried and in this state." "It is now too late, the lot is cast, and I must die. Life had but one charm for me, and I must die. But amid all my sufferings, I did not think this would have been added to them; I did not think my Mary would have proved unfaithful." I saw what was passing in his mind, but I was amazed at his last words. "And why do you fancy Mary unfaithful," said I. "Is she not Lord Abingdon's bride ?" "No." home, till he had received from his father overtures to a reconciliation. Sir Thomas, ill as he himself was, ordered his carriage, and taking his physician with him, set off for Mexington, the village where his son was lying. 66 My poor son!-pardon me, my son. Your father asks forgiveness of you, my son, for it is his cruelty that has brought you to your death-bed." "Speak not thus, my father, it is I that should ask forgiveness of you. Give me your blessing, and 1 die happy." "Then his paramour," cried he bitterly. "No, you wrong her; she is still faithful to you; though she is almost dying, never once having heard from you." "Nay, speak not so; I cannot bear to hear it. "Never heard from me ?-Day after day have II leave my thanks and my gratitude for all your written to her, but no letters ever came from her." "There is some mystery here," said I, for I began to suspect Lord Abingdon of intercepting the letters; "but you must not talk longer; you must recover; your Mary is still constant-and Sir Thomas has repented of his cruelty." "The blessing of an old man, your father, be on you. I have killed you; may all your sins be on my head." kindness to me; and now that I have obtained your blessing, let me think of death. But how pale you are-you too are ill, my father." "The sorrows of the old bear heavily on them; but, if youth cannot bear up under these afflictions, your aged father must expect to sink beneath them. "It is too late-it is too late; this might have Our calamities have been grievous to both--may saved my life before, but, No, my dear Henry, it is not too late; you may yet be well enough to lead your bride to the altar." we meet in a brighter world," and the old man sobbed aloud. The physician motioned me to take Sir Thomas to his own room, saying, it might be fatal to "It cannot be--would to Heaven it were pos- both parties to continue the conversation. "So sible." Sir Thomas Fitz-Maurice was not naturally a bad man or a cruel father; but, his passions were most violent and had always the mastery over him; and, having been long in the army, his ideas of discipline and propriety were somewhat of the strictest. The intelligence conveyed by Lord Abingdon's anonymous letter enraged him at once, and the denial of the charge exasperated him still more; his passions were thus worked up to their highest pitch; and, you have seen to what results they led. But the first heat of his anger was no sooner over than he began to repent of his severity, and to wish for the return of his son. He fancied that it was only the first excitement of rage that had induced Henry to depart, not knowing the deep-rooted sensibilities of his nature that had been wounded by his father's treatment of him. Weeks passed on, but Henry did not return. Months passed away-Sir Thomas thought no more of his eldest son who was abroad, but he thought much and silently of his Henry-he thought of the son he had lost, and vainly endeavored to conceal the grief that was consuming him. His meek-so forgiving," soliloquized Sir T., as he entered his room, "and to die thus early-it cannot be; God will have mercy on him and me. He will spare my son; for it is I that have caused his death." The old man fell back on his bed, and exhausted nature sought repose. Again it was evening; such an evening as the poet delights to fancy, and the painter to realize on his canvass. The sun had just hid his golden orb behind the blue mountains; but, the feathery clouds were still tinged with all his setting glory-the deep purple of one part of the heavens melted away into the delicate blue, that hung its veil over another orange and violet; in fine, all the colors of the rainbow mingled their beauties to adorn this fairy sky. It was at this calm and pleasing hour, that Henry, leaning on my arm, strolled for the first time, beyond the precincts of the garden. He felt better than he had been the evening was warm; the gentle breeze fanned his fevered cheek; and he fancied it was good for him to inhale the fresh air at such a time. "How beautiful are nature's works," said he; Adieu. H. M. S. "but, I must leave them all. Yet there is some- | fresh in my mind-so clearly pictured before me, thing sad in quitting this world, when beauty like you cannot be surprised at the melancholy that any this is here. I had hoped to have lived till fame mention of them always casts over me. and honor circled round my name; but, now I must leave all these aspirations which I have so fondly indulged, for the grave yawns wide before me. Yes, I come-not many more suns shall shed their lustre over the world till their rays, unfelt, warm the cold tomb of Henry Fitz-Maurice. "See," cried he, breaking off abruptly, "see the glorious prospect opening before me. See those bright immortals through whose heavenly ranks I press forward to eternity-See the golden harp is there, and the palm bough awaiting the end of my labors. Ah! what do I feel? my brain whirls-it reels, but oh, how pleasant; 'tis the intoxication of delight 'tis the dream of coming glories; its brightness dazzles me-there is a film upon my eyes-a dewy mist is on me. Farewell, lovely earth; I go to brighter climes. Adieu, my Mary-and myfather." As he uttered these last words, he sunk exhausted on the ground. His eyes closed, the hectic flush that gilds the portals of the tomb rushed to his pale cheeks-it died softly away, and the spirit had fled forever. He lay before me in the icy stillness of death, and the calm, the angelic sweetness of expression that rested on his features at the last moment of existence, still hovered there-the soul had left the body, but seemed still to keep guard over it. What a melancholy picture of the vanity of all human happiness had I witnessed! Often we fancy that we can perceive its excessive vanity in the world, but the last touch of the pencil must be given by the hand of death-Cut off in the prime of youth, Henry had entered in the glories of the future. LINES. BY MRS. E. J. EAMES. 1 What bearest thou on thy Southern wings, Are "orient pearls at random strung," But our hearth-fire blazes, clear and ruddy. The lay, that lulls its little cares. Then come, Old Friend, and charm for me When 't suits my mood, some worthier measure. Thy pure and polish'd pages over, THE HERMIT. A TALE OF EAST ROCK, NEAR NEW-HAVEN, CONN. Our tale is quickly told. Poor Mary!-every morning with the rising sun, she culls the sweetest flowers and bears them to the grave of her lost one; but, the rosy freshness that formerly bloomed on her cheek has changed into a vacant paleness-her eyes are dilated and seem to be starting from their sockets-her lips are compressed, as if to confine the choking sobs-her intellect once so About two miles to the north of the beautiful fine, is now a wreck-she is fast following her city of Elms, the two branches of the Green MounHenry to the tomb. Every morning at the earliest tains oppose their lofty fronts in majestic grandeur hour, she may be heard singing her sad ditty as to the little city beneath them. To the surroundshe bears her flowers to the tomb of her Henry. ing inhabitants, they are familiarly known as East Parnell. Old Sir Thomas did not long survive the loss of and West Rock, the former of which has now be his son; he sunk into the grave within six months come a place of favorite resort for parties of pleaof Henry's death. Lord Abingdon, the cause of all this misery, died alone in a foreign land, without one near him to smooth his pillow-without an eye to weep over him as he descended into an early grave. He fell wounded in a duel, and breathed out his life in the open air. This is the conclusion of the story of Henry Fitz-Maurice; and, as all the circumstances are so sure during the warm summer months; forming a striking contrast to its situation half a century since. Its top was then covered with the thick wood of the forest, and over the spot where many a fair foot has since trod, the wild beasts, retreating before the rapid advances of the white man upon the more productive plains below, roamed the undisputed lords of the soil, and there, among the protecting shrubbery of the mountain, had taken up their abode, as their last abiding place, prior to for the venerable personage who stood before me, their final extermination. Access to it was, at that I immediately arose, and bowed to the old man's time, extremely difficult; and, indeed, the summit salutation, who thus addressed meoffered but few inducements; a few acorns and "Young man, the seat, from which you have such like fruits, together with the chance of en- just arisen, is a favorite one of mine. For many trapping some of the game with which the place long years, have I sat upon it, and gazed with rapabounded, were the only rewards for climbing a ture upon the lovely prospect that meets your view. rugged and almost perpendicular ascent. Conse-But now my eye begins to grow dim; its sight quently, it had but few visitors. Now and then a falls within half its former distance; and the destranger, attracted by the romantic and picturesque light I once felt in sitting there is fast receding appearance which the Rock presents at a dis- from the reality of the present into the memory of tance, found his way to the top; or perhaps a band the past. It gives me great pleasure to find anoof hardy students connected with the college loca-ther interested in scenes which have so long ented in the vicinity, ventured to climb the steep gaged my attention; and I should like to see more ascent: sometimes, for exercise merely, but more of you. But I will not now intrude upon your frequently in quest of game. With these excep- time. The sound of that bell,* (which I never tions, it was rarely visited; and many were they, fail to note, for I was once obedient to its call) adwho for scores of years had seen the first rays of monishes you that you have delayed beyond your the sun, as they fell upon the Eastern summit, and time. Go then, but meet me here this day week. watched them till they died away and disappeared Till then, my son, God bless you." behind the Western hills, who had never felt a curiosity to visit these two romantic spots, although familiar to their eyes from earliest childhood. Thus saying, he immediately disappeared among the thick shrubbery, which soon concealed him from my view. As has already been observed, a party of stu- Too much occupied with my own reflections, dents would sometimes find their way to the sum- to have any desire to rejoin my companions, I mit. On one occasion, I composed one of the wound my way slowly down the Rock, and pronumber. After much exertion, we succeeded in ceeded home alone. Many were the conjectures reaching the top; when, more fatigued than the I formed concerning the strange being with whom rest of my companions, and leaving them to con- I had thus so singularly become acquainted. His tinue their way in search of the object of their pur-marked eccentricity, and the evident pleasure which suit, I seated myself upon a slight projection of the fact of my having taken his favorite seat had the Rock which commanded a most imposing view given him, besides the interest he had manifested of all the surrounding country, together with the toward me at first sight, all conspired to fill me smooth sheet of water stretching for miles to the with an eager curiosity to learn more of his hisSouth. My thoughts were soon absorbed in con- tory. But I was compelled to remain another templating the great map of nature, which lay week, in suspense, before I could obtain any furspread out before me, and I became lost to myself ther clue to his character. I indeed related my and to every thing around, until aroused by the adventure to some in the city, and although all sound of a strange voice apparently near-by. On seemed to be aware of the existence of a person raising my eyes, they encountered the figure of a such as I had described, yet further than this, they man, whose very appearance told but too well, that knew nothing. old age had not passed by in vain, while his withered face plainly showed, that care had left no wrinkle unformed. A few snowy locks, carelessly scattered over his high commanding forehead, and his long frosty beard, resting upon his now sunken breast, gave him quite the appearance of a "patriarch of the olden time." A long garment of coarse On arriving at the place, I found him quietly grey cloth, which encircled his shoulders and ex-seated upon the very projection of the Rock already tended to his feet, was his only covering. His described, and so engaged was he in contemplating bead was entirely bare with the exception of a few the prospect before him, that my approach was unscattered hairs, of which time had not yet robbed heeded, until I aroused him from his reverie, by him, and even these, the rude wind seemed delight- the salutation, "Good morning, Father." On heared to ruffle in sportive mockery. A soft melan- ing my voice, he arose, and extending to me his choly smile played upon his thin, pale lips, while long emaciated arm, seized my hand, and said— his mild blue eye sparkled with a meek benevo- "Good morning, my son, you have kept your lence, that entirely divested him of that misanthro-appointment well. I have been here sometime, pie appearance, with which his general bearing but was not expecting you so soon. I am howwould naturally strike the beholder. * The College hell can be heard distinctly from the top Time dragged slowly on; every hour seemed a day, and every day a week, so impatient was I to learn more of my strange acquaintance. The appointed day at length arrived; and, with my curiosity excited to the highest pitch, I set out to meet the old man. Inspired with a feeling of awe and admiration of East Rock. ever glad to see you. abode." Come with me to my seated," he threw himself on his bed of leaves, and commenced as follows He then led the way by a long circuitous path, "You, my young friend, are the only person with until we came apparently to a large heap of stones, whom I have exchanged a single word since I first well concealed by the surrounding shrubbery. But came here to live. The world I have shunned, on a nearer approach, they appeared to be thrown and it in turn has avoided me. My only compatogether with some slight regard to regularity. A nions have been the wild beasts, with whom I have square was undoubtedly the form in which they lived in perfect harmony. The spontaneous fruits were originally intended to be placed; but the scale of the ground have been my only food, and the pure and the plummet, had evidently never been called water from yonder spring, which never dries, my into exercise, in the structure of the pile. As only drink. Thus have I lived for more than nearly as I could judge, the walls were about five three-score years, neither knowing nor being known. feet in height, enclosing a space of ten feet by But I now feel the infirmities of age coming over twelve. The crevices between the stones were me my pulse is becoming daily more feeble; the filled with leaves and turf, so thickly applied as to sands of my life are fast ebbing away, and I wish entirely exclude the light from without. Over the before I die, to communicate to some one my past top were placed branches of trees rudely thrown history. If you have the curiosity to listen to me, on, and over these, leaves and turf the same as on it is well; if not, go, and leave me to myself. I the sides. A single opening in the top served do not wish to impose any tax upon your time and both to admit the light, and for a chimney through patience. But if you are inclined to remain, and which the smoke might pass. On the south side, was a narrow entrance, only wide enough to admit one person at a time. As we approached it, the old man remarked listen to my narrative, which shall be very brief, for the events of my life have been but few, and those but little varied, you will afford me much gratification." He paused for me to reply. Thanking him for thus honoring me with his confidence I assured him that it would give me infinite pleasure to listen to him, and that nothing which he might say could be in any way uninte resting or tedious to me. The old man seemed pleased and proceeded : "I will not trespass upon your kindness, by wearying you with a recital of the earliest events of my life, but will pass over the time until the period when I became connected with yonder institution of which you are now a member." "This is the only shelter I have had for the last sixty years; alone and unmolested have I lived three-fourths of my days under that rude mass. No other human being has ever seen the inside of these walls. Many have stood and gazed upon the exterior, but no one has ever ventured within. The course which I have adopted, has seemed to inspire all intruders with a sort of mysterious dread; and even to me, the place appears charmed. But now, as I am about, for the first time, to admit a stranger, the spell seems to be breaking away. It is well; sooner or later I must leave this earthly "At the age of sixteen, I left my home in the tenement; and I already feel that the time for which far South, to become a student in Yale College. I am yet to occupy it, is fast drawing to a close. My first two years there, were the happiest of But I had long since determined that ere that period my life. Naturally fond of study, I felt my colshould arrive, I would hold converse with at least lege exercises no task, while my recreations came one of my race. Fortunately I met with you, to me with a deeper relish, after the hard study when this feeling was strongest in my mind-and which had preceded them. But at eighteen, folI then resolved to commit to you, some circum-lowing the fashion of most young men of that time, stances of my life which have, hitherto, been known I began to go into society,' as it is termed, where only to myself." We were now at the entrance of the hut; and the old man, falling down upon his hands and knees, dragged himself slowly through the hole. Following his example, I soon found myself within his abode. I was kindly welcomed by the good people of the town. I soon found it an agreeable, if not a profitable relaxation, after a day spent in hard study, to unbend the mind and consume the evening in conversation with the other sex. Having previously mingled but little in ladies' society, I had My eyes instinctively wandered throughout the retained control over my affections, for a much lonwhole apartment. In one corner, lay a heap of ger period than young men generally do. I was, dry leaves, which I took for the bed of the solitary however, no stoic. It required but the elegant inhabitant; in another was a spring of living water, graces and fascinating charms of Gertrude Bfrom which the old man slaked his thirst; and im- to overcome a heart, which, for eighteen years, mediately over it hung a gourd-his only drinking had been closed to every tender impression. The cup. In the centre, and directly under the opening first time I ever saw Gertrude I felt a new and in the roof, lay a heap of burnt embers; near by peculiar sensation pervading my whole frame. I was a large flat stone, which served for a seat. knew not what it was at the time. Alas! I afterTo this, the old man pointed, and bidding me "be wards knew too well. She was a creature all Monday Morning. loveliness:-such an one, as no man, however occurred to my mind; with rapid steps I hastened destitute he may be of the sensibilities common to thither-there, on the table, in the very spot where our nature, could look upon with indifference. In I had first seen it, lay the note unopened. Snatchmy boyish dreams, I had often fancied to myself a ing it eagerly from the table, I broke the delicate being closely resembling her. But when my eyes seal at the corner, and read as followsactually encountered a figure most exquisitely moulded, of about the medium height, with a face surpassingly lovely, shaded by ringlets of jet black hair which partly wandered over her marble forehead, and partly hung in raven tresses down her neck, I almost doubted the reality of what I saw. Thus did Gertrude appear to me at first sight. She was at the house of her aunt, with whom I had recently become acquainted. I saw her then but a few moments. But, alas! too long for my future peace or happiness. For, from that hour, I felt that I loved Gertrude B. Henceforth, her image was destined to be my constant attendant. It haunted my very dreams. If I attempted to study, her figure was ever before me. Determined at last to disclose my passion, I sought every opportunity to throw myself in her way; but, for a time, my efforts were unsuccessful. I visited her aunt's much oftener than I had before done, but could never meet Gertrude there. Despairing at my want of success, I entirely deserted my books: shunned the society of my former associates, and either confined myself closely to my room, or strolled abroad over the neighboring hills, and once, even, scarcely aware of what I was doing, or whither I was going, I found myself on the top of this very rock, where I had never before been, and as I stood gazing into the deep valley below, I felt more than half inclined to cast myself from the dizzy height, upon the rugged rocks beneath, and thus end an existence, which was daily becoming intolerable. But the thought of Gertrude restrained me. The hope of yet seeing her, prevented, perhaps, the only rash design I had ever conceived. 'Mrs. C. -'s compliments to Mr. R., requesting the pleasure of his company on Thursday evening.' "The note dropped from my hands, and I remained for several minutes, stupified with astonishment. But soon a feeling of indignation took possession of my frame. I swore, I raved, and stamped upon the floor, exhibiting more the appearance of a maniac, than of a rational being. I was angry; but who or what could I blame? The fault was all my own. Had I then, in my indifference, suffered the very opportunity which I had sought for in every possible way, to pass by unimproved? Yes! Fool that I was. After trying every method which my imagination could devise, to obtain an interview with Gertrude, I had now rejected what chance had placed in my reach. "In this state of mind, I remained for weeks. When, on returning to my room one afternoon, from one of my solitary walks, I found a note lying upon my table, and supposing it to be from some one of my classmates, I did not even open it, for in the state of mind I then was, I could endure to think of but one subject. "This violence of feeling, however, when it had a little subsided, served to alleviate, rather than to increase my wretchedness. My mind became calmer than it had been for weeks, and the foolish frenzy, which had kept possession of it for sometime past, seemed to give way to more sober reflections. Still my love for Gertrude was in no degree diminished. The violent passion I had felt for her became changed into an holy adoration. "I again turned my attention to study; anxiously waiting in the meantime for another opportunity, like the one I had just lost, to present itself. "I had not long to wait; about a fortnight after the above occurrence, on returning to my room from recitation, I found a similar note lying upon my table. My heart beat quick as I took it up, and with trembling fingers opened and read it. When I found that it contained an invitation from Mrs. S to her house, on the evening of the day but one, to the date of the note-my joy knew no bounds. Although Mrs. Swas not a relative of Gertrude's, still I felt confident that she would be there-for what circle would be complete without her presence? "Oh! how long did the two days yet remaining, seem to me-longer, I sometimes think, than all the rest of my life as I now look back upon it. "A few days after, a friend says to me, I was quite surprised at not meeting you at Mrs. C's the other night, as I knew that you visited there. "The appointed evening found me, in my impaGertrude Bwas the belle of the evening.' tience, one of the earliest guests. As one after Muttering something in reply, I turned abruptly another entered the room, I watched among them away, unable to suppress the violence of my feel- for Gertrude-but she did not come. I began to ings. Had I then been slighted by Mrs. C, grow quite uneasy: nearly all the guests had arriGertrude's aunt? Did she know anything of my ved, yet Gertrude was not there. The old fiddler sentiments towards Gertrude, and had she refused in the corner began to tune his instrument, and to invite me to her house, lest I might again be the gentlemen to select their partners for the dance, brought in contact with her niece? No, it could when, as I sat listening with breathless attention, not be! Suddenly the circumstance of the note if happily one more should yet come, I heard the having been left at my room a few days previous, knocker fall heavily, and the large hall-door creak VOL. IX-32 |