Louis, running to the dauphin's chamber, carried away his child in his arms, to save him from the murderers who were hunting his mother through every staircase and gallery. How still and quiet those vast corridors are now! And the queen's rooms, and the private passages, and the doors where her guards were trampled down defending her, are all altered, they say, now, so that you cannot find where they were; and only the chamber and stately antique bed of Louis XIV. speak of anything like a home and rest having ever been found in that proud château !

The heartless cry of "Point d'enfans!" as the queen with her children showed herself in the balcony, and the imperial glance with which, sending back the little dauphin and his sister into the apartments, she awed the reckless multitude into calm, and even applause,— and the sad procession of the fated prince and his family into Paris, their carriage surrounded by furies pouring forth sounds of horror, while the severed heads of Deshuttes and Varicourt, the first victims of their faithful guard, were borne along upon pikes in their train, conclude his sketch; and he winds up the chapter by observing, “These are some brief details of what passed at that unhappy period, both in Paris and at Versailles, in the palace of our kings.

I learnt these events in my distant island, by means of the journals which reached us, and of different private letters whose contents we communicated to one another. I would not be diffuse upon the heart-rending scenes in which I had so large a part, but I wished to pour out into the bosoms of my children those griefs which have so shadowed my life-as far, at least, as I could do so without going away from my subject. These first events among the dissensions which were now increasing are, besides, too intimately connected with all I have more to relate to you, not to have been cited here in some of their principal features; there is no want of historical narrations on the subject of our revolution which will supply a fuller knowledge of the subject, to begin with the Moniteur; but what I would particularly recommend is the work of M. Hue, entitled "The Last Years of the Reign of Louis XVI." and, my children, I wish that you may read it as I did, not without tears."

PRESENTATION COPIES.

BY MRS. ABDY.

I GUARD them with peculiar care-on each I fondly look
With thoughts of satisfaction that endear no common book;
They come to me with memories of radiant genius fraught,
Genius, that, like all noble things, is better given than bought.

Kind meaning can attraction to the poorest bounty lend,
Small service is of dear esteem if proffered by a friend,
Then oh! how truly precious are the offerings that bind
The donor and receiver in the magic links of mind!

To those whose names I now recall, what varied powers belong!
Some tell of high and holy themes, some breathe soft strains of song;
Some view in bright perspective yet the honours of a name,
Some have already safely trod "the slippery path of fame.'

Yet from engrossing toils and cares the mind awhile set free,
Can turn in prompt remembrance to bestow its stores on me,
Exultingly I read my name, traced on the spotless page
By poet and by dramatist, by scholar and by sage.

And some in playful courtesy their valued gifts assign
As "sent in due requital for like offerings of mine:'
Oh! boundless generosity-profusion uncontrolled,
Thus to repay my simple flowers with true and sterling gold!

I love these volumes to receive, and bring their leaves to light,
Knowing that yet they have not met the people's eager sight,
That by my hand the sparkling fount of genius is unsealed,
Ere to the busy bustling throng its glories are revealed.

I greet the gem emerging from the darkness of the mine,
Ere amid halls and palaces its corruscations shine,
I touch the rare exotic, ere its blossoms are unfurled
To the scrutiny and wonder of the long expecting world.

Many are never privileged these sympathies to know,
Their gay and goodly volumes are like tulips ranged for show;
And all the recollections that they carry to the heart,
Connect them with the barter and the traffic of the mart.

But in these treasured books of mine a fascination lurks,
The living authors speak to me-I hail them in their works;
And deem my humble library of great and priceless worth,
Thus "passing rich" in tokens from the gifted ones of earth.

SAVINDROOG.1

BY M. RAFTER, Esq.

CHAPTER XLVII.

THE FLIGHT.

THE god of day had shot many a broad and vivid beam across the heavens before he displayed his dazzling orb over the woody base of the Droog; whose towering mass overshadowed the sylvan scene, that spread around its tangled bowers and mazy windings. Except the songs of innumerable birds which were fluttering about, a silent gloom still pervaded the forest, and the mist hung chill and heavy on its dense and variegated foliage. The only living objects visible were twardy travellers, descending the mountain's brow with a rapid pace the foremost, with the beard of snow, the deer skin scrip and long iron-headed staff, seemed bound on a distant pilgrimage, or sacred mission to some holy shrine; the other, whose appearance was more youthful, carried a matchlock over his shoulder, and might be taken for a guide or protector to his venerable companion, through the intricacies and dangers of the forest. They re between them a sort of sylvan litter, evidently manufactured in a hurry, of the pliant branches of the bamboo; it was carefully covered over with the broad satin leaves of the plantain, disposed alike for shade and concealment ; and the anxious care and solicitude with which they bore it along the rugged path, sufficiently indicated the precious nature of its

contents.

Over the slippery rocks, and decayed trunks of trees that lay scattered around, the travellers pursued their way with singular diligence, along the steep and narrow track; nor were they induced for a moment to slacken their steady pace, by the numerous obstructions that lay in their way, as if some object of even more than vital importance depended on their eager speed. Lofty trees, intermingled with dark and savage looking rocks, rose around on every side; from which hung flowering creepers in a thousand fantastic varieties, and in all the rich luxuriance of uncultivated nature. Majestic Peepul trees, with long sinuous branches and dense foliage, threw a gloomy shadow on the ground; while down the rocky dells brawling torrents were flashing with uncertain gleams through the leafy screen; and from the overhanging crags numerous little streams rippled over the pathway, rendering the rocks more slippery, and increasing tenfold the difficult and dangerous nature of the footing.

The route of the travellers lay through the heart of the forest; and as they had now lost every trace of any thing in the shape of a footpath, they were entirely dependant on Vega's acquaintance with the unfrequented locality. This, however, was such as to inspire his companions with the most perfect confidence: and the Yogie turned to Continued from p. 273.

the right or to the left according to his directions, communicated in a low and respectful tone, without the slightest hesitation, or suspicion of his good faith. In this manner they proceeded for some time down the woody base from which the Droog elevated its ponderous mass; their gloomy route being cheered only by the songs of innumerable birds, rejoicing in the increasing warmth of the morning sun, whose beams were now penetrating the forest in every direction, and calling into life and activity all its savage denizens. At length, on a sudden turn in the way, the startled travellers came full upon a party of about a dozen Bheels, whose battered equipage and disconcerted looks indicated that they had just returned beaten from the field.

It was a small but open spot that lay at the rugged base of some mighty crags which reared on high their hoary summits, crowned with moss and wild flowers; and it overhung with a steep descent a little lake, whose tiny waves rippled against the precipice with a pleasing murmur. Beyond the limpid tide the jungle lay in one unbroken mass of misty green; except where the lofty cocoa nut elevated its matted branches over its less aspiring neighbours, or some granite rock shot up, in a rude and grotesque form; its rugged head crowned with flowering shrubs, that gave it the appearance of some little isle of golden grain amidst the dark rolling waves of the ocean. Overshadowing this romantic spot a lofty Peepul tree elevated its sacred head, and threw out its broad arms and luxuriant foliage on every side; while its mighty roots were read in fantastic wildness across the rugged way there, resting on the dewy green, the Bheels reposed after the dangers and fatigues they had evidently undergone, their swords and bucklers lying around them in careless confusion.

The Yogie viewed the enemy with a stern eye, while his bosom swelled with wrath at the unexpected obstacle. Curbing his feelings, however, with a powerful effort, and hoping that the sacredness of his character would enable him to pass unquestioned, he addressed the defeated crew in a mild and peaceful tone with the customary pilgrim salutation, exclaiming in all the solemnity of his deep and powerful

voice :

"Mahadeo Bole! Bole! Bole!"

"Mahadeo Bole!" returned the leader of the band, with a gesture of surprise and mistrust; "praised be the name of Mahadeo! But, venerable pilgrim, it appears to me that you are somewhat unusually burthened for persons of your class, who rarely trouble themselves with any luggage beyond what is contained in their scrip."

"True, gallant Bheel," meekly replied the Yogie, "on ordinary occasions the pilgrim requires nothing beyond his scrip: but I am at present charged with certain offerings to the shrine of Mahadeo at Maugree, the capital of your Chief."

By the chaplet of Doorga!" cried the Bheel, with a laugh, "holy father, you have marvellously gotten out of the track; and will never reach Maugree in this direction."

"We have deviated from the direct road purposely," replied the Yogie, "in order to avoid the enemy with whom, as we have heard, your Chief is at present engaged in contest."

"Worse and worse!" exclaimed the Bheel, renewing his mirth, in

which he was heartily joined by his companions, "This is the route that will lead you directly into their teeth, holy father; and your companion, who I now perceive is our comrade Vega, might have told you as much."

"It is our intention," said Vega, with promptitude, "when we get to the head of the lake to make a detour to the left, which will lead us as you know into the main road to Maugree."

"That is very true," said the Bheel, with a sarcastic grin, “but I cannot imagine why you came out of the main road at all, unless it was to submit your luggage to our inspection. Set it down, therefore, that we may see if it contains any thing chargeable with the 'Bheel's Cowrie." "

"Nay," said the Yogie, "our freight may not be seen by profane eyes. It contains no gaudy toys or costly jewels, but humble offerings to the shrine of Mahadeo.'

"And those, comrade," said Vega, "you know are always exempt from the Bheel's Cowrie.'

66

"Friend Vega," said the Bheel, with a significant shake of the head, you seem to be very officious and ready witted on this occasion : heaven send you may answer as effectively when I question you touching your sudden release from prison. First, however, I must be satisfied as to the nature of the commodities you have covered over so carefully in your litter."

"That," said the Yogie," is utterly impossible: the sacred offer. ings cannot be seen by any eye but that of the deity; and in his awful name I demand a free passage through your woods."

Nay, holy father," replied the Bheel, "not another step shalt thou go, I swear, until I thoroughly examine that which you conceal with so much mystery. Rise, my sons," he cried to his followers, " and display these sacred offerings to my longing sight."

Quick at the word the delighted marauders sprang forward with ruthless hand to obey the orders of their Chief; and to rifle the prize which fortune appeared to have thrown so opportunely in their way; but the voice of the Yogie sounded like thunder in their ears. Placing the litter gently on the ground, he stood before it, wielding with the strength of a giant his iron-headed staff, as he exclaimed:

"Base robbers, stand aloof, or I'll quickly teach your lawless crew that my offerings to the deity are not to be rifled with impunity.'

Vega sprang forward also to the side of the Yogie, and putting his matchlock to his shoulder levelled it on the startled foe, who drew back in some dismay at the unexpected and formidable opposition; for the narrow pass being entirely occupied by the pilgrim and his friend, whose deadly aim they well knew, there was no possibility of turning their position, and the first that advanced was sure to fall a victim to his temerity.

"Oho!" cried the leader of the band, "here is a change with a vengeance. Bheel sets upon Bheel, as if the tiger of the forest could belie his nature; and a greybeard Yogie forgets his age and sacred calling, and brandishes his weapon like a prize-fighter."

"Make room for us to pass instantly, base scum," cried the Yogie, "or dread the vengeance your unprovoked attack will bring upon your miserable heads."