Herbert; "he talked very cheerfully to me this morning. I have no doubt he has plenty to say to Kate." "No, indeed; you are mistaken. Kate agrees with me. Why, she waits upon him, makes all his drink, prepares his medicines, reads to him, and humours him in every way she can think of, and he never even says thank you, cousin."" "This son of mine is a strange compound," thought Mr. Herbert, as he walked into the next room to see for himself. But Mrs. Herbert's forebodings proved illfounded. Philip's recovery, though slow, was very sure, and a little time found him able to ride out, and recover somewhat of his old look. He still remained rather quiet, however, and Mrs. Herbert would now have been very glad to hear one of those whistles which formerly had so annoyed her. Mr. Herbert recommended that the old plan of the journey should be pursued, and offered to accompany him; but Philip declined going he preferred staying at home, he said; and as he soon returned to his old habits, all anxiety ceased about him. One evening towards the latter end of August, as the family still lingered round the tea-table, a servant brought Mr. Herbert a letter from the post-office. "From your brother, Kate," said Mr. Herbert, and commenced to read the letter aloud. Tom wrote to inform his uncle that, through an influential political friend he had obtained a desirable office at Washington, and in brief but manly terms thanking Mr. Herbert for all his kindness to his sister, informed him that now being able to support his sisters himself, he would relieve him of his charge, and place Catharine at the head of his establishment. It would be impossible to describe the dismay painted in every face by the contents of this letter. Kate became very pale, and when her aunt with emotion rose and threw her arms round her, she burst into tears. Mr. Herbert walked quickly up and down the floor, and Philip hastily left the room. In a little while they were more composed, and could talk it over. Feelings the most gratifying on both sides were elicited during this conversation; and it was finally agreed that, if Tom's plans were fixed, which they hoped was not the case, that there was no alternative. It would be clearly Kate's duty to go. Some hours later, Kate sat alone upon the broad steps of the piazza. It was a warm, sultry night, and she had sought the open air to relieve the heavy feelings which oppressed her. The moon shone brightly, and the peacefulness of nature seemed to calm her troubled thoughts. She had sat there some time, when she was aroused by an approaching step, and the next moment Philip stood beside her. "Where are they all?" he asked, in a hurried voice." Kate rose; he drew her arm within his, and they walked on for some time in silence. At length, as they emerged from the shade of the trees, and stood in the broad moonlight, Philip paused abruptly, and turning to his cousin he gazed fixedly in her face. "This letter, Catharine," he said at length-"are you glad to leave us?" "Oh, Philip!" she replied, in a tone of pained surprise, "how can you ask me that?" "Then you are sorry?" "Yes." "But you will go?" "Is it not my duty?" she asked in a low voice. Perhaps it is. But it will be a pleasant duty. Washington is a gay place, and you will find many there to follow and admire you, and make you happy." Kate hastily drew her arm from her cousin, while with a voice tremulous with wounded feeling, she murmured, "Ungenerous!" "Ungenerous! Am I ungenerous?" he cried, as if electrified by the feeling which her voice betrayed. "Look at me, Kate; see, I am at your feet. Is this ungenerous? Is it ungenerous to tell you that I would rather die here, than live to part from you? Is it ungenerous thus to pour out all the madness of a despairing heart? Oh, Kate," he continued, "if you but knew the wretchedness I have endured for months-if you could see the agony of the last few hours, you would surely pity and forgive me!" Kate did not speak, but with trembling hands she obliged him to rise. "I know I must pain you," he continued, in a voice still struggling with agitation; "but you will forgive me. I brought you here under a strong impulse of hope, to tell you all my folly and presumption, to implore you to stay with us -to accept my hand-to permit me to endeavour to win your regard. I believed that feelings so powerful and resistless to myself must, in time, affect you also. I felt as if I could pour out the very depths of my spirit in your ear, and make you love me at last. But now it is gone. I only feel my own unworthiness-I only feel how impossible it is for one like me to recommend himself to you -I only feel my very heart crushed by the knowledge of the dreary future that is before me." Kate stood motionless by his side, her hands clasped, her head drooping, and concealing the expression of her face. One would have supposed that it was to a statue those wild, passionate words were addressed. At length the silence was broken by Philip. "And have you nothing to say to me, Kate ?" he asked-" not one word to soothe the heart that has been laid bare to you?" Kate slowly raised her head, and in a voice scarcely audible, replied, "What shall I say?" "What shall you say, dearest Kate!—ah, if I might but dictate to you." Philip drew nearer, and bent to hear the reply, which came so broken and faint-"You may, dear Philip, you may!" The next morning, when Philip descended to the breakft-room, he found his mother alone, looking very sad and depressed. In reply to his cheerful " good morning," she exclaimed, “Oh, Philip, this is a dreadful business! Í hove "What nonsense you talk, Philip-marry a woman that you don't like!" "But I do like her." "I mean love." "But I do love her, mother." "Well, if you do which I don't believe a word of-she don't love you; so do talk a little more rationally." "It is a very hard case not to be believed when one tells the truth. I assert, ma'am, that it is a fact; and, moreover, I can assure you that Kate is very much in love with me." A servant now entered the room, and breakfast was ready, and in a few moments they were joined by Mr. Herbert and Kate. When Mr. Herbert had finished his breakfast, he turned to Kate, and said "I am going to town, my dear: have you written to Tom, or would you like to accompany me?" Kate hesitated, blushed, and looked at her cousin. Philip stirred his tea, coloured a little, smiled, and then said in a tolerably composed voice, "I will go with you, sir: I am to speak with Tom for Kate." Mr. Herbert looked from one to the other in the most profound surprise, till Kate's embarrassment becoming too painful to endure, she fairly jumped up, and ran out of the room; and then Philip told his parents all. We must not pause to dwell upon the deep heartfelt joy of Mr. and Mrs. Herbert, nor describe the emotions which swelled Philip's bosom, as he beheld her he loved clasped alternately in the arms of his parents. The deep humility with which he asked himself, "Am I worthy such a creature?" tested the sincerity of his affection. The aspect of things being now so entirely changed, Mr. Herbert and Philip, after a long day's absence, were enabled to return with everything satisfactorily settled. Tom behaved admirably, they said, and Kate had had the happiness to obtain the approbation of all her family in the important step which she had taken. "I forgot to tell you, my dear Kitty,” said Mr. Herbert," that we met Mr. Hufneagle in town." "Indeed! and did you speak with him?" "No, I did not; but I saw Philip shaking hands very cordially with him." "Philip!" exclaimed Mrs. Herbert, in a tone of surprise" and how did he seem, Philip?" "Very much as usual, ma'am; full of airs and graces, bows, and civil speeches, and all those little ornamental prettinesses which used to fascinate you ladies so much;" and Philip looked mischievously at Kate. "This is a curious communication," said Mr. Herbert, looking archly over his spectacles, holding a note in his hand, which he had been reading for the last few minutes. "Let me read it to you, Kate: perhaps you may understand it. 666 "Sir,--I have the honour to give you the information that I have arrive again in good health. The badness in my throat is recover entirely, and I shall have much gratification to recommence those lessons in the dance, by which you have so much improve, upon the first moment of your convenience. Very respectfully, &c., "ALPHONSE DUPRE. "Mr. Philip Herbert, Philadelphia." "Dear me! that boy will frighten me to death, some day," cried Mrs. Herbert, looking all alive, as if she had touched the nerve of a tooth. Philip had rather hastily jumped out of the window! MY PORTRAIT GALLERY. BY CALDER CAMPBELL. No. VI.-CYTHRIA. Believe me, all those fears are vain! To drive thee from my bosom's home, I own my faults, and see, with grief, That bids too oft the reckless tongue On him who crouches low the knee Of all a courtier's lying creed; But thou wilt deem them minor crimes; Then, trust me, thro' the changing times, Thy image still shall grace my breast! THE SPIRIT'S ENTREATY. Founded on a Hebrew Apologue. BY GRACE AGUILAR, There was a pause in the courts of heaven. Seven times had the voice of the Eternal resounded through the vast realms of space, and from the very centre of chaotic darkness a world of beauty had sprung forth. Thousands of angelic spirits floated round and round the new-born globe, tending the innumerable sources of loveliness and life, which had burst at once into perfected being, at the all-creating word. With every new creation, an increased effulgence flashed over the angelic hosts; and richer tones of mighty harmony proclaimed the power, and the glory, and the mercy of their God. Deep in the unfathomable abyss of formless space, hung the new-formed world, suspended from its parent heaven by chains of diamond light, visible only to the pure spirits, who on them ascended and descended, in performance of their newly assigned employments. Myriads of celestial beings stood in dazzling files without the veil, which in unapproachable and indescribable splendour concealed the throne of the Creator; whence issued that Eternal voice which spake, and creation was! None, not even the highest and the purest, the most etherialized amidst those spiritual ranks could gaze on the ineffable glory piercing through the effulgent veil; nor dared approach it, without covering his face with his glittering pinions, and falling low in prostrate adoration. In their several ranks they stood, the glorious archangels to whom the ways, clearly as the works of the Eternal, were revealed. Hierarchs, who had penetrated deeper and deeper the mysteries of infinity, and by long tried obedience, and faithfulness, and love, had won the glorious privilege of commune with the Ineffable Majesty of the Supreme. Even to the young seraph, commencing his heavenly career, satisfied to labour and to love, till he should pass through the intermediate ranks, and rising higher and higher in angelic intellect, and the beatified nature of his tasks, at length attain the arch-angelic goal. hush sunk on the rejoicing myriads; for, darting at the same instant from their respective ranks nearest the Eternal's throne, three glorious spirits met together before the resplendent veil, and prostrated themselves in supplication. They were of the highest order of the archangels, each entrusted with an attribute of his creator to uphold its glory and its beauty amidst the celestial and spiritual worlds. And one spake, and his wings of sapphire, his dazzling brow, his radiant eye, before whose single look the mists of error passed; his crystal spear, before whose slightest touch, falsehood fled trembling and self-abhorred; alike proclaimed the gift of which he was the guardian. The spirit of TRUTH implored : "Father, create him not-life will be overshadowed by deceit!" And the spirit bowed his effulgent brow upon his wings in grief. And then the second spirit spake,—akin to Truth but sterner. His glorious brow was shaded by a glittering helm, and his right hand grasped an unsheathed sword; a raiment, resembling an hauberk of golden light, clothed his graceful limbs, and the rich full voice, in its entreaty, breathed his name. "Father and Lord, create him not! He will destroy yon beautiful world by his unrighteousness; and I, unto whom thou has entrusted thine attribute of JUSTICE, will seem to him, in his darkened light, as the avenger. Father, create him not!" And then spake the third archangel,-bis pure white pinions fluttered tremulously around him, and the exquisite beauty of his youthful face seemed disturbed by the intense ardour of his supplication; a wreath of amaranths bound back his flowing hair from a brow of such transcendent loveliness, that one look upon it filled the soul with balm; he held a bough of emerald resembling the olive leaf, but radiant with a liquid lustre unknown to the plants of earth. "Create him not, oh, Father!" implored the spirit, and the brightness of his meekly expressive orbs was dimmed; "create him not! he will chase me from the earth. PEACE will be but a name amidst the awful scenes of internal and external war, with which man's passions will devastate yon beautiful world. Father, create him not!" The spirit ceased; and, hushed to a solemn stillness, the listening myriads waited the answering Word. The effulgence piercing through the veil appeared slightly shadowed, as if the Almighty presence had withdrawn his immediate glory, and the entreaty of his favoured angels would be granted. But far, far, in the unfathomable Seven times had gone forth the Omnific Word, and seven times had the Eternal pronounced it good; and each time of that approving Word, had the resplendent pinions of the hosts of heaven fluttered in irrepressable rejoicing, till space itself seemed lost in one vast flood of glistening and iris-distance, a resplendent star seemed floating towards coloured light, and music, soft, spiritual, and thrilling, marked every movement of the radiant wings, and filled up each pause of song. And then, midst the deep stillness which succeeded, again spake the Eternal voice: "Let us make man!" and the mandate with the velocity of light rushed through the angelic peopled courts; and every spirit of every rank, and every host, caught up the Omnific Word, and, in the full song of adoration, testified their joy. But suddenly a the veil, and faint, yet thrilling melody proclaimed the rapid advance of angel wings. On-on-and the semblance of a star gave place to the form of a beatified spirit, whose dazzling loveliness irradiated space itself, and heightened the glory all around; and every rank he passed hailed him, even in that awful hour, with an irrepressable burst of song, and drew closer and closer round; and watched him with such love as only angels feel and he smiled on them, but paused not in his rapid course, and the smile kindled hope anew, and confidence | following particulars, so saturated with marvel, so and joy banished the momentary shade. It was the spirit of Love; the best beloved of the Eternal; the guardian essence of the whole angelic hosts; angels and archangels, hierarchs and seraphs, alike acknowledged him, and bowed before his sway, as the representative of the Supreme. And on he floated in his indescribable beauty, and every court of heaven sent forth increased effulgence as he passed. He neared the veil, and bowed down before it, and then he spake, and his low soft tone penetrated the farthest limit of that immeasurable space. "Create him, oh, Father!" he prayed; "create him to love, and be beloved! What if he err? what if he sin? Thou wilt pardon him; for thy love is greater than his sin!" A burst of bewildering glory flashed through the veil upon him, as he knelt, and darted its dazzling rays through the thousand ranks of heaven at the same moment. It was the assenting sign of the Eternal; and again the Omnific Word went forth : "Let us make man!" and millions and millions of voices swelled the glad chorus, that another, and yet mightier creation should bear witness to the loving mercy of their God. And TRUTH, and JUSTICE, and PEACE joined in the thrilling strain, for the SPIRIT OF LOVE had touched them with his quivering breath, and they felt his words were true. Man might still err, but, created in love the immortal spirit breathed into the shell of clay-the angelic hosts gave vent to the full song of rejoicing, for the spirit of love hovered over the new-born world, as over theirs, endowed by the measureless compassion of the Eternal, to purify and pardon. JEMALAH CASTLE, IN CAPPADOCIA. BY T. M. RUSSELL. "I know not how the truth may be." SCOTT. enveloped with mystery, that I feel compelled to give : I omit our usual disclaimers to this stale charge against our supposed avocations. "I have pastured in these valleys nearly all my life, and I know all about that castle and the head (spring) of deleterious water on the summit, whereof if a man drink he shall surely die." The living disproofs of this fact sat before him, but that's a trifle. "The Osmanli did not build that Castle Bey, nor did the Turcoman, nor the Sarahceni (sons of Sarah, Saracens). It was built by the Roum (Romans). They were Ghebres, every one of them, or little better; they worshipped the sun." The old gentleman knew better than this, but he thought to have thus a sly hit at us, having noticed our taking solar observations at morning and evening. "We drove them out of the country Bey, and their children are still at Moscow, hoping to come back again. Marshallah! that shall never be Timour Bey, took that castle and destroyed it, and crushed it as you see; but Jaffa, the son of Hosein Khazi, he was the first of the faithful, who took that strong hill from the Romans, and, by the prophet's help, he did great wonders." The Turcomans, not being Osmanli, though under tribute to the powers at Stamboul, delight much in the exploits of the inhuman Timour, whom they regard, notwithstanding the boast of descent from Sarah, the lawful wife of Abraham, as a sort of Ishmaelite, or dweller in tents, like themselves. To hear him, therefore, in this jumble of history, praise the captor of Bajazet, and rehearse his triumphs on one of the actual stages of his atrocity, did not surprise me; but the name of Hosein Khazi, or his acts, I had never heard from Turcoman before; wherefore, having no naOn the summit of a precipitous hill that closes ghali to induce slumber, I begged to be favoured a commanding range of mountains hedging in the with the detail of the prowess of this hero lost to valley of the Halys on the north and east, I mea-fame, and the obliging and talkative Turcoman sured, planned, and did my humble utmost to rescue from oblivion the crude heaps of ruins that pass by the above name: wherefore it was and is so called, history sayeth not; though, as possess ing a gorge, traversed by the great road from Casaria to the interior and Constantinople, it must have ever been a strong-hold of importance. When history failed us in elucidating our researches, we ever had recourse to local tradition; although, it must be confessed, the very imperfect light afforded through its distorting medium gave us but little satisfactory information. At the foot of the hill of castle Jemalah, in the Oda, or traveller's room, of the village of the same name, picked we up the | | proceeded to the following purport, and pretty nearly in the following words: "You come from Angora Bey? Doubtless you know of the mountain, still called Hosein Kasi. I will tell you why they named it so. Hosein was a mussulman general; his brother was Seraskier of Meliteni, on the Euphrates. Ankyra then belonged to the Romans. Ah! the dogs, they fortified it strongly. Hosein marched an army of the faithful against Ankyra; the Romans sallied unexpectedly from the town, as though my lambs should pursue a wolf; and, dishonoured be their graves for ever, cut off the head of the besieging general, Hosein Khazi, mussulman, Hosein rose from the ground, from the field of the slaughtered | absurd, but always delivered with the most divertheadless. It pleased Mahomet--very great is the ing gravity. greatest of the prophets of Allah!-that the head of Hosein should be saved from dishonour. As much strength and as much life was given to the body as served to enable it to bear the head to that very cave which you have seen, doubtless, on the mountain's side?" (I nodded.) "When within that cave he died."- "And his head?""Yes, his head died too."-The Turcoman frowned. "Jaffa Seraskier, eleven years of age, with much wisdom, though no beard-great courage and little height-exceeding strength but weaponlessmarched against Ankyra, before which his father had fallen. But this time the tent-men cared not to besiege the town. Jaffa sent a message to the governor, and made offer to visit him. The governor gladly consented to receive him; and why? surely he intended to make Jaffa and his escort drink -may the trippers fall!—to drink and be slain, that was his design; but the son of Hosein declined the Rhaki (an ardent unrectified spirit of course unknown at the time), but happy company was he to the Roûm governor who drank much, very much, at Jaffa's persuasion, and he and his household, "But the story of that prodigy and miracle, Marshallah! that lives still, and is believed by mussulman and giour, in proof of which Bey"continued the old shepherd, getting warm, as a man very often does when he feels sensible of having uttered something hypothetical, not to say hyperbolical, though no sign of dissent had been given-blind dogs they were! they fell into the pit they "in proof of which it happened that an eagle winged its way, in sight of all men, to that cave, and there, even in that cave, laid an egg!" had digged for the mussulman. When completely intoxicated, the governor and his staff were easily persuaded to stagger into the court-yard, and Jaffa found no more difficulty in putting them to death than I do." "The Roum unbelievers, though they are, were struck by this circumstance, and their aged men thought that it augured that that mighty chief should rise again, and yet dispossess them of An-rested in an oriental Oda, I need not explain how kyra, aye?" This interrogative intonation is given in such manner as may serve either for, do you understand, or do you believe me. I deemed it a matter of courtesy to subscribe to the more difficult of the two, so joined in with "Very naturally." "Yes, they very properly judged it ominous, and they well knew the might of that warrior; so they forthwith, in great numbers, took every man a stone and blocked up the entrance to that cave, so that, had he arisen, he could not have come forth--is it still closed, Bey?" "No, not at present; but very many stones lie scattered about on the side of that mountain." "Ah!" interrupted my friend Ainsworth, who, being the head of our expedition, occupied, as the post of honour, the very part of the chamber appropriated to naughty boys in England, namely, the most remote corner-" Do not afford him fuel for his fictions; you know very well the debris on the mountain side was never placed there by man, or ever put to any such purpose." "Never mind, Effendi; any thing to prevent that headless man making more than his premier pas." "But why should the prophet bring Hosein Kazi to life again?" continued the aged goatfeeder, with increased energy, as if he anticipated some scepticism. "Had not Hosein a son, Jaffa, the brave young Jaffa, also doubtless a favourite of the prophet? at the age of eleven years, he assumed the command of the conquering armies." "I never heard a word of this before," remarked I innocently. "Because, though you Franks read many books," added he pointedly, "they are only those you write yourselves; a man will not lie unto his son, and the history is as I gave it." I cared not to discuss the diffusion of knowledge question, so on with his tale went the Turcoman, the relation becoming more and more oriental as he proceeded; that is, extravagant and To those who have tarried, I had nearly said the wool-clad old man practically exhibited the slaying of thousands; and to those who have not, I had better refrain from motives of delicacy. "Thus and thus, Beys, he rid himself of all his enemies, sending," quoth he, shaking his sheepskin fraught with matter far less valuable and valued than that of Colchis, "I know not how many heads to Melitenè." "But Jemalah castle ?" said I, for I liked not the fashion of his garments, and all that dwelt therein, himself excepted. "To this castle he turned back, which being still in the hands of the Rûom, and half-way between Ankyra and Cæserea, he resolved Mashallah to take immediately. Shamas was the name of the Giour Bey, who held this castle for the emperor at Stamboul, he was a brave soldier: of him Jaffa asked-and he stood at the base of the hill, so mighty was his voice-what do you here? and the governor replied. "Is there not some discrepancy here? had they both mighty voices? or had Jaffa supernatural aurical, as well as vocal powers? Pray inquire.” This I addressed to my friend Rassam, who was kindly translating; but he shook his head, so I have been ever since unable to get at the bottom of the mystery. "I hold this castle for the emperor; and you, what do you in this country?" "To visit you," said Jaffa, with much craft. "Ouch golden" (a thousand welcomes), said Shamas; but knowing of the fate of him of Ankyra, he did not admit the son of Hosein, nor did he go forth himself. "Just tell that venerable chronicler," put in Ainsworth, who had suspended his notes for an instant to partake in traditionary lore, “that we Franks have a great distaste to the method of taking towns, as practised at Ankyra, and perhaps he will reduce this castle in some other way, if only for variety sake." I know not how much of this intimation reached |