Aragon's proposals; then, indeed, I felt but I will never think of him more,' she added, with a sigh.

"Dearest child, I well knew your feelings: I was aware that such noble sentiments as breathed in the poetry sung by that Spanish minstrel were well calculated to fascinate the pure taste of my darling girl, and had I been blessed with a son, or were France more kindly affected towards my people, I would never have demanded the sacrifice of your affections, but allowed you to dream in peace of the gentle poet, even though my fears had been confirmed, that his rank in life was far too humble ever to aspire to my child.'

"Nor would he ever, I am certain,' said she; for, if you recollect his song it only spoke of hopeless love, of the ennobling effect of deep affection when there was no prospect of its ever being returned.'

"I well remember it, my child, but indeed we must both try to forget the handsome minstrel. You have declared that the consciousness of acting for the good of our dear vassals has been sufficient reward, and this conviction must support you, even should the King, your husband, not prove so worthy or agreeable as fame declares him to be. And now go to rest, darling, for we have promised to honour the good Abbot of Mitz-Aran by breakfasting in his old monastery, and after that, our journey is long.'

"And at the end of the day we shall then reach St. Liestra, the place where the King has appointed to meet us,' thought Caterina, as she retired to rest.

"Poor Caterina tried hard to occupy her thoughts with her royal bridegroom, yet tradition says, that in her dreams that night she saw the nameless minstrel who had appeared, a year before, at her father's court at Comminges; and the next morning it was with a heavy heart that she pursued her way.

"That night they reached St. Liestra, but the King was not there: he sent, indeed, a numerous retinue and a splendid litter to convey her to Saragossa. It was a great relief to Caterina; and as she retired to her room, she rejoiced to think that sleep might once more give her the bliss of such dreams as had visited her pillow the night before, without a crime.

"Perhaps it was this thought that inspired them, but certainly on that night the unknown minstrel appeared to her again, and his songs were more beautiful, and his appearance more fascinating, than ever.

"The next morning, the Count begged her to hasten as much as possible, as they were expected at Saragossa at noon.

"Caterina obeyed with a heavy heart, and, attired in her most costly robes, entered the royal litter; but it was near evening when they reached the splendid palace of Aragon, and Caterina became so agitated, she could scarcely see anything.

"But what is this?-a well-known voice greets her ear. Can it be that of the minstrel? Yes; he stands by her side, attired in his simple blue velvet mantle.

"A thousand welcomes, fairest Princess,' he says in the King's name, I bid thee welcome, and have his orders to conduct thee to his pre

sence.

"Caterina trembled more than ever; for it was very strange the king should have chosen a person of his low rank to greet her, and it seemed cruel in the minstrel thus to intrude. And now he takes her hand, and presses it to his lips. She was almost disposed to be angry, and she scarcely dared to look at him; and yet she could not help wishing that fate had given her such a husband.

"Come, fairest of mortals, the banquet waits, and the nobles are impatient to do homage to their beautiful Queen.'

"They enter the gorgeous chamber, and the minstrel conducts her to

a splendid throne. There he casts off his simple attire, and stands before the astonished Caterina arrayed in royal splendour. Shouts of 'Long live our gracious King Alphonso, and his lovely Queen!' echo through the lofty halls. It was the King himself, who, disguised as a simple minstrel, had won the heart of his bride.

"Pardon me!' he exclaimed, adored Princess, for deceiving you.' "Nay, it was my doing,' interrupted the Count of Comminges: 'I wished to try if my daughter was worthy of the devoted affection of such a prince, and whether she would sacrifice her own inclinations to the good of her people. I am now satisfied. The dearest wish of my heart is accomplished; and may God shower down his choicest blessings on your heads.'

"The marriage ceremony was performed, and Alphonso and Caterina reigned long and happily over the united states of Aragon and Comminges."

THE OPIUM SMOKER.

"I have had a dream,-past the wit of man to say what dream it was:-man is but an ass, if he go about to expound this dream. Methought I was there is no man can tell what."-SHAKSPEARE.

THE stout bamboo is wedded to the ground,
The roof of leaves a matted wall embraces;
This looks an honest home! and here abound

Cups, chop-sticks, fish and fowl, and hungry faces.
'Tis night-the wind is whistling at the door-
Fast fade the coloured beacons of the table:*
What matters it! the gude man's boat's on shore,
And travellers care not, when the mare's in stable.

What merry faces! little sons of Han,

Of head half-shaved and consequential tail;
And ye, young daughters of the self-same clan,
Your enemy-I bid ye friendly hail!

Ye too-old grandsire, proud in white moustache,
And stout-cheeked matron of the gold-pinn'd hair-
And brawny son (whose prowess were sans tâche,
Dar'd he do all his foes, the pirates, dare!)

But where's mine host? why sits he not beside
The festive board-his labour being over-
Why shares he not the mirth-or has he hied

To meet a neighbour, like himself, a rover?

Nay, he is there-but not with others, he

Finds food for happiness-their jests distress him:
Opium-the pipe-wins his sole sympathy-

To curse-as some would say-or some-to bless him!

However poor, the Chinaman never appears to want the means of lighting his dwelling-place. I will not attempt a description of the quality of his candles-suffice it to say, they boast about four inches' length of grease, and half a foot of surplus wick, by aid of which they are stuck into any fitting crevice that may offerand with a profusion that would startle even the liberal and wealthy inhabitants of the aristocratic purlieus of London.

See, in yon lonely corner, where the voice
Of merriment can hardly reach—and lit
By a small lamp, (not one of reader's choice),
A man of middle age-of limb well knit,
Ruddy in feature, but of sunken eye-

Resting upon the floor-beneath his head,
An oblong pillow-hard for such as lie

In the smooth pleasures of a feather-bed.
In his left hand sustained, and by his right
Foster'd with constant vigilance, he's using
The magic remedy of ill-strange sight,

When through the frame its power 'tis diffusing!
One pipe-another, and another—ten—

And many more-till nought he sees before him-
Borne far from out the pale of common men,
A dream of wonder and of joy is o'er him.

He's very poor-but in his dreams, a mine
Of gold would not suffice to buy his wealth;
He's sick and feeble-but his face will shine,

In all his visions, with the glow of health:
His fare is frugal-but no monarch's board

Could yield the dainties he can now control:
He's dull and careworn-but can boast a hoard
Of joyous fancies in that priceless bowl.

I dare not say "misguided man "—the sin
Finds dread atonement in a sickly morrow;
When every joy the nightly fumes may win,
Has its dark antidote of silent sorrow.
Yet fails he not to meet his daily toil—

His heart's complaint, no man will ever hear it :

On shore-he ne'er objects to till the soil,

At sea-his boat ue'er wants a hand to steer it.

Poor Fisherman, farewell: 'tis not alone

The humble and the outcast who are snar'd
By Lust and Appetite: these have a throne

In rich men's bosoms, firm and well-prepar'd.
And thou dost injure none-while sons of power
Will wake a turbulent and fearful sea:

Of kingly lust a world awaits the hour

Thine is but known to Providence and thee!

Bay of Bengal."

F. J. G.

SAVINDROOG.1

BY M. RAFTer, esq.

CHAPTER XLI.

THE TALISMAN.

It was the cool and tranquil hour of evening when Kempé Goud, accompanied by the Bhaut and the Yogie, arrived at the summit of the Droog; where the latter gazed around with intense curiosity, when the eyes of his companions were turned in another direction, though, at other times, as if all earthly considerations were equally indifferent to him, he resumed his look of intense ecstacy and abstraction. The apathy of the pilgrim, while it mortified the vanity of the Chief that any human being could witness the impregnable bulwark of his power without some expression of surprise or admiration, did not fail, however, to enhance, in his superstitious mind, the value of those sacred communings of the spirit, which could cause and perpetuate so total an abstraction from all surrounding objects. The Bhaut partook largely of the religious awe with which the stranger appeared to have impressed the imagination of Kempé, and every now and then congratulated the Chief on the happy accident which bad brought him, at so critical a moment, to the Droog; while the attending Bheels, who saw the venerable man climb the steep bosom of the rock, without fatigue or apparent effort, attributed the marvellous circumstance to the presence of some invisible agent, who upheld his footsteps, and bore him, as it were, in triumph through the air.

The lofty gates of the Haram being opened to admit the Chief and his companions, they proceeded in silence towards a close laticed gallery which overlooked the verandah of the Begum's apartments, and whence Kempé had frequently observed the motions of his lovely captive. The descending sun shed a chastened light through the scented screens of Cusa grass which hung between the pillars of the verandah; and gentle zephyrs fanned the features of the hapless maiden, as she sat on her couch in hopeless sorrow; with streaming tears and burning sighs, the sad offerings of a breaking heart. Her back was turned towards the party who were gazing on her with an interest of which she was utterly unconscious, and her eyes were intently fixed on a bracelet, which seemed to contain some cherished object; for she pressed it to her heart and to her lips alternately, with a fervour that appeared to absorb all her faculties, and to render her indifferent to all other objects.

After indulging for some time in this melancholy gratification, from which she seemed to derive a species of negative happiness, the Begum directed her eyes towards the blue cloudless vault; in which a few twinkling stars were already beginning to appear, as the sun was rapidly descending towards the horizon. As if recalled to the

1 Continued from p. 20.

June 1843.-VOL. XXXVII.-NO. CXLVI.

I

observance of some customary rite, suited to the evening vigils of her hapless condition, the captive maiden took a lute which was lying by her side; and, after a melancholy prelude, accompanied her voice in the following simple dirge, which she sang with peculiar sweetness and expression, while the tears coursed each other rapidly down her cheeks:

I wish I had the power to fly
Thro' yonder fields of air,
And had an angel's searching eye
To seek my lover there:

For this world is sad without him,
Oh! this heart is sadder still,
And I feel it break when I sit down,
Of tears to have my fill.

When the sun around is shining,
He brings no joy to me:
When the moonbeams are reclining
On the calm and silver sea,
They yield no silent pleasure

To this heart so cold and chill:
Oh! I feel it break when I sit down,
Of tears to have my fill.

Yon pathway bright thro' heaven*
They say the blest must hie,
When their sins are all forgiven :-
Then I wish that I could die,
For there I'd meet the smiles I love,
This heart with joy to thrill ;-
Oh! I feel it break when I sit down,
Of tears to have my fill.

My life was blissful dreaming
When he I loved was nigh;-

Oh! 'twas sweet to mark the beaming
Of his bright expressive eye :-
Then my heart with joy was dancing,
Like the sunbeam on the rill,
But now it breaks when I sit down,
Of tears to have my fill.

Oh! 'twas cruel thus to lose him,
And still on earth remain ;

But the viper in my bosom,

And the fire within my brain

Are incessant in their labour

This stony heart to kill;

And I feel it break when I sit down,

Of tears to have my fill.

Yama, the God of Death, and Sovereign of Patala, or Hell, is also judge of departed souls, who, at stated periods travel in great numbers to his dreary abode, which was fabled to be situated far to the north-west, for the purpose of being judged. The track of the souls in passing to the place of reward or punishment is fabled to be the milky way.-Mrs. Graham.