"Well, its all arranged, Steplein; day after to-morrow, with pistols." "With devils! that's serious!"

"You know I cannot manage a rapier. You'll second me? There goes the bell! little rattling vixen; let's off to our studies."

Thursday came round in due season, and starting off in a wellstocked wagon, we had no occasion to stop more than half a dozen times to feed our beasts and mend their tackle, ere we reached our destination. It was a sweet, secluded spot, perhaps more beautiful then, and in those circumstances, than it had otherwise appeared; but then it was indeed most lovely, so calm, so peaceful. The dark green wood

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of whispering pines, contrasted by the pale waving grass on the opposite slope, the tiny rill merrily skipping in its narrow bed, the warbling of a single bird-it was a linnet, I marked it well-all spoke of happiness and content. My courage failed me; life might be sweet, yet was death not unwelcome; but to die thus, and reeking with sinful passion, to appear before my God! And then the dream which follows death! Eternity, time indefinite, time without end, for ever and for ever, no joy, no hope, but blank, blank, blank despair. I could have wept, nor would I have shamed me of my tears; for if to be devoid of feeling was to be a man, I claimed not to rank with such. “Well, Steplein, let us in," and arm in arm we slowly entered the small door of the house before us. Upon a couple of benches arranged along the sides of the dingy walls of a low, spacious room, were seated some twenty of my fellow comrades; beer bickers were strewn around upon the numerous window sills, and beneath the seats, and many a porcelain bowl sent forth its tiny wreath of smoke. As we entered, two combatants, with faces and bodies slightly marked with blood, were about shaking hands and drinking brotherhood, their quarrel ended, and they were now to be friends; for, after all, the duel with the rapier is but a mere trial of skill, a rough game at most. Well, I suppose we may begin," said Kosker to his second, stripping off at the same time his coat and upper garments. "There now, I'm fairly buckled, hand me the tackle; it is a shame too, that we have nothing but make shifts." So saying, he donned a well wadded cap, and drawing down the visor so as to protect his eyes, he held forth his right arm, which Hardman bandaged tightly with two stout silk kerchiefs, while another student carefully tied around his neck a thick and high cravat. After a few more preliminaries, the word was given, and with a graceful flourish both combatants raised the basket of their long thin rapiers to a level with the eye. Both seconds stepping behind their principals and stooping low, passed beneath their uplifted arms another rapier, to fend the blows which might stray toward the lower portion of the body. Suddenly stepping slightly to the right, Kasker whirled with lightning speed his blade toward the Wurtemburger's left cheek; 'twas parried and returned; blow answered blow, steel clashing steel, resounded sharp and quick, and all four weapons flashed and rung at every turn. Both students with stern fixed gaze and flushed cheek bend forward now, and now fall back, elude and strike, and circle round upon the floor. The strokes fall like pattering hail, and hissing

through the air the bruised steel leaves a train of sparks behind. Suddenly Kosker staggers, and fainting falls. The Wurtemburger's blade had cut through his side as if the muscles were but whip cords. "How fares he, doctor?" cried the victor, as the surgeon reëntered shortly after." Pretty well, its only an affair of five weeks in bed." "Thank God." And now Steplein calmly taking his weapon, passed his finger on the edges, and threw himself in position."Now, sir, Baron Kraig, on!" and hardly crossing swords, each made a feint at the other's head, and fell in guard again. Another menace, and Kraig's rapier heavily stricken gave way, and a long streak of blood from the eye to the chin, proved that the stroke had told. The surgeon here produced a huge black plaster, applied it, and stepping back, again the swords were crossed. After a few more animated passes, Steplein once more darted forward to strike, and as quickly fell back with an exclamation of fury. "Sir Baron!" exclaimed he and his second in a breath, "your point was directed at the face; 'tis foul play! foul play!" The whole room was in an uproar. "Sirs," expostulated the accused, " upon my honor as a gentleman I meant not to thrust, nor had I any intention that the Count of Steplein should run against my point; I beg your pardon most sincerely." And once again the students forced each other, the Baron muttering curses between his clenched teeth, my friend half smiling with irony. During some minutes both struck and parried with equal address, until out of breath and tired, their blows fell more feebly and slowly; but a sudden cut which though not reaching the flesh, slit Steplein's kerchief from the elbow down, recalled his energy, and seizing his opportunity, he sent his steel hissing by the Baron's head, clipping from his cheek a portion of the flesh and plaster. He let fall his guard immediately, and rested the point of his weapon on the floor. But as he did so, Kraig, boiling over with rage and unmindful of all rules, twice, quick as thought, brought his edge to Steplein's throat, and cutting through cravat and beard brought blood from a deep gash beneath the chin. A cry of horror broke from all around, and with eyes shooting fire they rushed forward, the seconds throwing down their swords.* The Count alone remained unmoved. "Back, gentlemen," he said, "I beg of you; the scoundrel does not merit your anger. En garde, sir, en garde !" and drawing back his arm, he struck with mighty effort, his basket-hilt against that of the Baron, until the other trembled and staggered beneath the shock. Then brandishing aloft his arm, he sprang forward and struck his opponent full in the forehead with the hilt, throwing him prostrate on his knee; then with a loud laugh of scorn, he laid the flat of his blade upon the face and back of the prostrate knave, who reeled and fell forward on the floor. "This arm shall never be stained with honest blood again, since it has drank that of a coward, cried the Count," and snapping it cross his knee, he threw the broken fragments through the window. "And now, my friend, let us walk out and finish your affair with Rengan."

* After every wound drawing blood, hostilities are momentarily suspended.

Though little skilled in these affairs, our seconds went through the preliminaries without many very absurd blunders; the ten paces were duly stepped, or rather leaped, for each one measured at least four feet, the pistols loaded, and being posted without reference to range or sky, we impatiently awaited the word. Now when Rengan had picked this quarrel, he had no idea that it would end in aught else but a skirmish with cold steel, and disliking hot lead as much as I, he stood up the very picture of indecision. "Fire!" cried Steplein, and my opponent wheeling his full broad front, directly facing me, raised his pistol, whose muzzle apropos seemed to expand to the size of a hogshead, and pointing it some ten rods from the spot I occupied, immediately pulled the trigger, sending his ball whistling towards the pine forest. Not more murderously disposed than my adversary, I still could not refrain from paying him off for having procured me a couple of disturbed nights, and as according to previous agreement, we were both allowed a minute after the given word, to discharge our weapons I calmly brought my barrel on a range with his head. Then slowly bringing the muzzle to bear successively upon every portion of his body downwards, until reaching his feet, I again as slowly raised my piece, then suddenly jerking it towards the earth, I fired; but the ball, as fate would have it, striking a stone near by, and sped on by some mischief-loving devil, glanced off, and flew whistling through my opponent's ear, chipping on its way a most uncomfortable and unpoetic notch. First, clapping frantically both hands to his temples, he then ran towards me crying out aloud, "Excuse me, V, I have acted like a cursed fool." Just then some three or four cocked hats crowning as many ruby faces appeared upon the brow of the hill, and the sabres and silver medals of the owners soon becoming visible, we no longer doubted that the police was at our heels. Admirable fashion that, of so clothing justice, that the scare-crow is visible at half a league.

"Halloo, the horses! the horses! 'my kingdom for a horse!' this is a prison affair! off, off!" and we vanished into "thin air," or "Scottish mist," just as the reader is pleased to prefer.

V. H.

He has leaped into the chilly flood,—
His arms benumb erewhile,
And the tossing waves in furious mood
Dash him on Fairy Isle.

He rises faint, and, falt'ring on,

His senses scarcely cling,
Till near his foot in brightenss shone

The Fairy's Bridal Ring.

The opal burned with mystic blaze,

Then glowed like ruddy skies: He raised it, and a wild'ring haze Bedimmed his softened eyes:

He pressed it to his throbbing brow,
And age fled from his soul,
While to his ear, sweet whispers low,
In fairy zephyrs stole.

"Oh! weak in faith, heart-infidel,
Dim fancies worshiping,
Go forth! again with mortals dwell,
Thou hast found the Bridal Ring.
Go! cleanse in Love thy fearful soul,

And write with grateful hand
This lesson on that snowy scroll,-
"The HEART is FAIRY LAND!"

THE TRUE AIM OF THE SCHOLAR.

PARDON us if we begin with that common, almost vulgar term, Education. A word in every mouth,—a sound in every ear,—it echoes and reëchoes through every rank of every civilized nation. It is the talisman of the school-boy, the watch-word of his maturer years, the object on which his ripening genius fondly doats, and to which it ever loves to sacrifice. It is the boast of the pedantic upstart: with its badge and title, he proclaims his high vocation to the world, and gains a passport to power, riches, fame. It is counterfeited by quacks and impostors, courted by the gay and fashionable, prostituted by the wicked and selfish, worshiped as an "Unknown God" by the thoughtless and shallow minded.

What means this running to and fro of so many of her hopeful expectants, eager admirers and would-be votaries in our own little world? The college bell rings, but far and wide over land and sea, it has already been anticipated, and crowds have left the pleasures and endearments of home, expressly to attend its calling. Ask them in what they now engage, and they are proud to tell you, "In that great cause to which these classic walls are consecrated, at whose shrine we every morning lift our eyes in homage, and every evening sacrifice our midnight oil," and we question if this is not as definite an idea as most have about it. Perchance their motives are as various, and their plans of life as different, as the dresses they wear, or the winds that wafted them hither. And yet, they come, all, professedly, to be educated.

Now then, we ask in earnest, what is this education? Is it a mere privilege-a sweet something of magic power in the affairs of mento be sought primarily as a means of erudition, usefulness or prosperity; or is it a solemn duty which every man owes to himself, as an immortal intelligence, first of all for the discipline and improvement of his own faculties? We propose briefly to answer this question, with a view to point out the true Scholar.