flower that is brought out under the open sky after long privation of light and air. His bright spirit and gladness of life refreshed her heart and brain; the respect he paid her revived her crushed self-confidence, and filled her soul with fervent gratitude. Ah! and how delightful it was to feel that she might be gratefuldevotedly grateful. And then, then this evening had been hers-the sweetest, most blessed that she had known for years. He had reminded her of what she had almost forgotten: that she was still young, that she was still lovely, that she had a right to be happy, to enchant and be enchanted-perhaps even to love and to be loved. Her hand was still conscious of his burning kiss as she entered the cool room where the Lady Neforis sat awaiting the return of the party, turning her spinningwheel by the couch of her invalid husband, who always went to rest at late hours. It was with an overflowing heart that Paula raised her uncle's hand to her lips-Orion's father; might she not say HER Orion's? Then she kissed her aunt, his mother and it was long since she had done so as she and little Mary bid her good-night. Neforis accepted the kiss coolly, but with some surprise, and looked up inquiringly at the girl and at her son. No doubt she thought many things, but deemed it prudent to give them no utterance for the present. She allowed the girl to retire as though nothing unusual had occurred, superintended the servants who came to carry her husband into his bedroom, gave him the white globule which was to secure him sleep, and with indefatigable patience turned and moved his pillows till his couch was to his mind. Not till then, nor till she was satisfied that a servant was keeping watch in the adjoining room, did she leave him; and then-for there was danger in delay-she went to seek her son. This tall, large, and rather too portly woman had been in her youth a slender and elegant girl, a graceful creature, though her calm and expressionless features had never been strikingly beautiful. Age had altered them but little; her face was now that of a good-looking, plump, easy-going matron, which had lost its freshness through long and devoted attendance on the sick man. Her birth and position gave her confidence and self-reli VOL. IX. ance, but there was nothing gracious or captivating in her individuality. The joys and woes of others were not hers; still she could be moved and stirred by them, even to self-denial, and was very capable of feeling quite a passionate interest for others; only, those others must be her own immediate belongings and no one else. Thus a more devoted and anxious wife, or a more loving mother, would have been hard to find; but if we compare her faculty for loving with a star, its rays were too short to reach farther than to those nearest to her, and these regarded it as an exceptional state of grace to be included within the narrow circle of those beloved by her somewhat grudging soul. She knocked at Orion's sitting-room, and he hailed her late visit with surprise and pleasure. She had come to speak of a matter of importance, and had done so promptly, for her son's and Paula's conduct just now urged her to lose no time. Something was going on between these two, and her husband's niece was far outside the narrow limits of her loving-kind ness. This, she began by saying, would not allow her to sleep. She had but oneheart's desire, and his father shared it: Orion must know full well what she. meant; she had spoken to him about it only yesterday. His father had received him with warm affection, had paid his debts unhesitatingly and without a word of reproach, and now it was his part to turn over a new leaf, to break with his former reckless life, and set up a home of his own. The bride, as he knew, was chosen for him. "Susannah was here just now," she said. You scapegrace, she confessed that you had quite turned her Katherina's little head this morning.' 66 I am sorry for it," he interrupted, in a tone of annoyance. "These ways with women have grown upon me as a habit; but I have done with them henceforth. They are unworthy of me now, and I feel, my dear mother-" " That life is beginning in earnest, Neforis threw in. "The wish which brings me to you now entirely accords with that. You know what it is, and I cannot imagine what you can have to say against it. In short, you must let me settle the matter to-morrow with Dame Susannah. You are sure of her daugh 211 ter's affection; she is the richest heiress in the country, well brought up, and as I said before, she has quite lost her little heart to you." "And she had better have kept it!" said Orion, with a laugh. physites we are the chief-and we will remain so, and close our ears and hearts against all heretics and their superstitions. What! A grandson of Menas, the brother of two martyrs for our glorious faith, married to a Melchite! The mere idea is Then his mother waxed wroth, and ex- sacrilege-is blasphemy; I can give it no claimed: "I must beg you to reserve milder name! I and your father will die your mirth for a more fitting season and childless before we consent! And it is for laughable things. I am very much in for the love of this woman, whose heart earnest when I say the girl is a sweet, is so cold, that I shiver only to think of it good little creature, and will be a faithful for this waif and stray, who has nothing and loving wife to you, under God. Or but her ragged pride and the mere scraphave you left your heart in Constanti-ings of a lost fortune, which never could nople! Has the Senator Justinus' fair compare with ours-for this thankless relation- But nonsense! You can creature, who can hardly bring herself to hardly suppose that that volatile Greek bid me, your mother, such a civil goodgirl morning-by heaven, it is the truth-as I can say to a slave for her that I, that your parents are to be bereft of their son, the only child that a gracious Providence has left to be their joy and comfort? No, no; never! Far be it from me! You, Orion, my heart's darling, you have been a wilful fellow all your life, but you cannot have such a perverse heart as to bring your old mother, who has kept you in her heart these four-and-twenty years, in sorrow to the grave, and embitter your father's few remaining days for his hours are numbered! And all for the sake of this cold beauty, whom you have seen for a few hours these last two days. You cannot have the heart to do this, my heart's treasure; no, you cannot! But if you should in some accursed hour, I tell you, and I have been a tender mother to you all your life-but as surely as God shall be my stay and your father's in our last hour, I will tear all love for you out of my heart like a poisonous weed-I will, though that heart should break!" Orion clasped her in his arms, and said tenderly; No, dearest mother, no. Constantinople lies far, far behind me, in a gray mist beyond the farthest Thule; and here, close here, under my father's roof, I have found something far more lovely and more perfect than has ever been beheld by the dwellers on the Bosphorus. That little girl is no match for a son of our stalwart and broad-shouldered race. Our future generations must still tower proudly above the common herd in every respect; I want no plaything for a wife, but a woman, such as you yourself were in youth-tall, dignified, and handsome. My heart goes forth to no goldcrested wren, but to a really royal maiden. Of what use to waste words! Paula, the noble daughter of a glorious father, is my choice. It came upon me just now like a revelation; I ask your blessing on my union with her!" So far had Neforis allowed her son to speak. He had frankly and boldly uttered what she had indeed feared to hear. And so long she had succeeded in keeping silence. But now her patience gave way. Trembling with anger, she abruptly broke in, exclaiming, as her face grew crimson: No more; no more! Heaven grant that this which I have been compelled to hear may be no more than a fleeting and foolish whim! Have you quite forgotten who and what we are? Have you forgotten that those were Melchites who slew your two dear brothers-our two noble sons? Of what account are we among the orthodox Greeks? While among the Egyptians and all who confess the saving doctrine of Eutyches, among the Mono Orion put his arms round the excited woman, who had freed herself from his embrace, laid his hand lightly on her lips, and kissed her eyes, whispering in her ear. "I have not the heart, indeed, and could scarcely find it." Then, taking both her hands, he looked straight into her face. "Brrr!" he exclaimed, "your daredevil son was never so much frightened in his life as by your threats. What dreadful words are these? and even worse were at the tip of your tongue! Mother! Mother Neforis! Your name means kindness, but you can be cruel, bitterly cruel !" Still he drew her fondly to him, and kissed her hair, and brow, and cheeks with eager haste, in a vehemence of feeling which came over him like a revulsion after the shock he had gone through; and when they parted he had given her leave to negotiate for little Katherina's hand on his behalf, and she had promised in return that it should be not on the morrow, but the day after at soonest. This delay seemed to him a sort of victory, and when he found himself alone, and reflected on what he had done in yielding to his mother, though his heart bled from the wounds of which he himself knew not the depth, he rejoiced that he had not bound Paula by any closer tie. His eyes had indeed told her much, but the word "Love" had not passed his lips--and yet that was what it came to. But, surely, a cousin might be allowed to kiss the hand of a lovely relation. She was a desirable woman-ah, how desirable!-and must ever be; but to quarrel with his parents for the sake of a girl, were she Aphrodite herself, or one of the Muses or the Graces -that was impossible! There were thousands of pretty women in the world, but only one mother; and how often had his heart beat high and won another heart, taken all it had to give, and then easily and quickly recovered its balance. This time, however, it seemed more deeply hit than on former occasions: even the lovely Persian slave, for whose sake he had committed the wildest follies while yet scarcely more than a schoolboy-even the bewitching Heliodora at Constantinople, for whom he still had a tender thought, had not agitated him so strongly. It was hard to give up this Paula; but there was no help for it. To-morrow he must do his best to establish their intercourse on a friendly and fraternal footing; for he could have no hope that she would be content to accept his love only, like the gentle Heliodora, who was quite her equal in birth. Life would have been fair, unutterably fair, with this splendid creature by his side! If only he could take her to the Capital, he felt sure that all the world would stand still to turn round and gaze at her. And if she loved him-if she met him open-armed. Oh, why had spiteful fate made her a Melchite? But then, alas, alas! There must surely be something wrong with her nature and temper; would she not otherwise have been able in two years to gain the love instead of the dislike of his excellent and fond mother? Well, after all, it was best so; but Paula's image haunted him, nevertheless, and spoiled his sleep, and his longing for her was not to be stilled. Neforis, meanwhile, did not return at once to her husband, but went to find Paula. This business must be settled on all sides, and at once. If she could have believed that her victory would give the invalid unqualified pleasure, she would have hastened to him with the good news, for she knew no higher joy than to procure him a moment's happiness; but the Mukaukas had agreed to her choice very reluctantly. Katherina seemed to him too small and childish for his noble son, whose mental superiority had been revealed to him unmistakably and undeniably in many long discussions since his return, to the delight of his father's heart. "The water-wagtail," though he wished her every happiness, did not satisfy him for Orion. To him, the father, Paula would have been a well-beloved daughterin-law, and he had often found pleasure in picturing her by Orion's side. But she was a Melchite; he knew, too, how illaffected his wife was towards her, so he kept his wish locked in his own breast, in order not to vex the faithful companion who lived, thought, and felt for him alone; and Dame Neforis knew or guessed all this, and said to herself that it would cost him his night's rest if he were to be told at once what a concession Orion had made. With Paula it was different. The sooner she learned that she had nothing to expect from their son the better for her. That very morning she and Orion had greeted each other like a couple of lovers, and just now they had parted like a promised bride and bridegroom. She would not again be witness to such vexatious doings; so she went to the young girl's room, and confided to her with much satisfaction the happy prospects her son had promised them, only Paula must say nothing about it till the day after to morrow. The moment she entered the room Paula inferred from her beaming expression that she had something to say unpleasant to herself, so she preserved due composure. Her face wore a look of unmoved indiffer ence while she submitted to the overflow | of a too happy mother's heart, and she wished the betrothed couple joy, but she did so with a smile that infuriated Neforis. This was of old.—And even now, She was not, on the whole, spiteful; but, face to face with this girl, her nature was transformed, and she rather liked the idea of showing her, once more in her life, that in her place humility would beseem her. All this she said to herself as she quitted Paula's room; but perhaps this woman, who had much that was good in her, might have felt some ruth if, in the course of the next few hours, she could but have looked into the heart of the orphan intrusted to her protection. Only once did Paula sob aloud; then she in- Amsterdam, March 16, 1581. His taste was formed by dignantly dried her tears, and sat for a long time gazing at the floor, shaking her pretty head again and again, as though something unheard of and incredible had befallen her. At last, with a bitter sigh, she went to bed; and, while she vainly strove for sleep, and for strength to pray and be silently resigned, Time seemed to her a wild-beast chase, Fate a relentless hunter, and the quarry he was pursuing was herself. Translated by CLARA BELL. THE STATUE OF MEMNON. ANACREONTIC. [Pieter Cornelis Hooft. This writer, one of the fathers of the literature of Holland, was born at the study of the ancient classics, and by his travels in Italy. As a literary man, he distinguished himself both in historical composition and in poetry. In the former, Tacitus was his model, and the translation which he published of this great historian holds the rank of a classic. He wrote the Life of Henry the Fourth, the History of the House of Medici, and the History of the Netherlands. The last is considered his most important work. As a poet, he is regarded as the cre ator of tragedy and of erotic poetry in Holland. He died at the Hague, May 21, 1647.] Three long years have o'erwhelmed me in Since the sun veiled his vision of gladness; On my brow a new sun is arisen, [Jacob Cats was born in 1577, at Brouwershaven, in Zeeland. He studied at Leyden, and afterwards held several of the most important offices in the state. He was Ambassador to England, and afterwards, during five years, Grand Pensionary of Holland. He died at his estate in Zargvliet, in 1660. His poems consist of fables, songs, allegories, etc. They are distinguished Flowingly shines it within and without me: for purity and simplicity of style, a rich fancy, and We read in books of ancient lore, And bright is its glance o'er my prison; Gayly and grandly it sparkles about me, Why, why should dejection disarm me,— Laughing light, lovely life, in the heaven To me are a dawn which Apollo is painting; Where sadness and folly sit darkling. Lovely eyes, then the beauties have bound them, And scattered their shadows around them; Stars, in whose twinklings the virtues and graces, also devoted himself much to the modern languages, Ile showed early an inclination for poetry. His first Sweetness and meekness, all hold their high- attempts appeared in 1802, and gave an earnest of his places: But the brightest of stars is but twilight, Fragrant mouth,-all the flowers spring is wreathing Are dull to the sweets thou art breathing; The charms of thy song might summon the spirit To sit on the ears all-enchanted to hear it: O, how blest, how divine the employment! How heavenly, how high the enjoyment! Delicate lips, and soft, amorous glances,Kindling, and quenching, and fanning sweet fancies, Now, now to my heart's centre rushing, And now through my veins they are gushing. Dazzling eyes, that but laugh at our ruin, Nor think of the wrongs ye are doing,Fountains of gladness and beacons of glory, How do ye scatter the dark mists before ye! Can my weakness your tyranny bridle? O, no! all resistance is idle. Ah! my soul-ah! my soul is submitted; Thy lips, thy sweet lips,-they are fitted With a kiss to dissolve into joy and affection The dreamings of hope and of gay recollection: And, sure, never triumph was purer: I am bound to your beauty completely, I am fettered and fastened so sweetly; And blessed are the tones, and the looks, and the mind, too, Which my senses control, and my heart is inclined to: While virtue, the holiest and brightest, JOHN A' SCHAFFELAAR. [Henrick C. Tollens was born at Rotterdam, in 1780, died 1836. He received a classical education, and future distinction. In 1806 he gained a prize by his well-known poem, entitled The Death of Egmont and Horn. A collection of his poems was published in 1808. Since then, a long series of works has appeared from his indefatigable pen, which have had an immense circulation. Gravenweert calls him "one of the greatest Dutch authors in descriptive poetry, the bal lad, and the sweet, graceful, and moral kind which delineates the events of private life."] When high the flame of discord rose, And o'er the country spread, When friends were changed to deadliest foes, And nature's feelings fled: When doubtful questions of debate Disturbed the public mind, When foreign armies, helmed and plumed, Then flourished John a' Schaffelaar,- Renowned for glorious deeds of war, Let him who would Rome's Curtius name Who was, though lauded less by fame, Secluded virtue fairest shines, You ask me once again to sing,-- When Utrecht saw her sons appear Her bishop to depose, When Amersfoort had sworn to shield, |