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ioned in the tower whence the pilgrim-war- of the realities which might be in the disriors from Palestine refreshed their desert-pensation of the future for this most lovely weary eyes with the gorgeous woodland and innocent, most credulous and pure, of beauty of Warwickshire. It was a congen- God's creatures. What harm could come ial home for the young girl, for youth was to her Alice ? the widow would think. not wanting there. The school, for such it Though she had known much sorrow, Mrs. was, was tenanted by thirty young girls of Wood was strangely ignorant of the world; respectable parentage, who were maintained and she argued that Alice was liked by and educated for a certain number of years. every one, though not quite understood The system of the institution was liberal, and when she should be left alone, the trusadmitting nothing squalid or pauper-like, tees would appoint her to fill her mother's none of the dreadful soul-grinding, body-place. No misgiving, no comprehension of degrading harshness and formality which the truth so hard for all mothers to learn, render some of the best-meant so-called that their children are on theirs for a very charities painful to see in these days. The short time, and of their destiny they are but costume to which the Blue-gown girls were spectators, helpless and amazed, came to restricted was pretty though quaint, and the this woman, otherwise as sensible and reabright-blue dresses, white aprons and capes, sonable as she was commonplace and indusand brightly-polished buckled shoes, were trious. She, too, had her dream. But to not discordant with the youthfulness of all, Alice life was a poem, and the surroundings and the good looks of a few. Mrs. Wood of her home enchanted places. She had settled down soon and satisfactorily to the access to old books, and while yet a child duties of her position, and her new home she loved them, and made companions of afforded Alice much delight, qualified only them. In her turret-chamber she passed by the pain of the separation from Henry many hours of delightful reverie, in which Hurst. There was little incident in the the past days came again, the present vanyoung girl's life during the tranquil years in ished, and all that was beautiful, romantic, which she dwelt in the ancient City of the and chivalrous in the mediæval times lived Three Spires; but the formation of her for her vivid and active fancy. When the character, the development of her mind, evening sun glinted upon the window, deep went on with steady, though almost un- set in the massive wall, and the shadows marked, progress. No one could have told flickered on the grass, she would sit with that her mother knew she was beautiful and her golden head resting on her arm, as it good, angelic in her innocence, and rarely lay on the carved-stone window-ledge, and pure and poetic in her tastes. No one trace wondrous legends in the glorious stone could have discerned the intense and ab- records of the ancient church. For her the sorbing devotion with which the cold, re-'warrior monks trod with mailed feet the served woman regarded her only child, who cloisters, where grass and ferns were growhad observed the calm, impartial manner in ing; processions of knights and ladies went which she bore herself to Alice, in common, up into the solemn aisles of St. Michael, with her other charges. But Alice knew supreme among the churches, as the great it, and there was perfect union between the archangel among the saints; and in the mother and child in their quiet life. Per-pealing of the organ, the story of the spires, fect union, but only little companionship; angel-crowned, and rich with the sublime there was no room for that. The mother fancies of the artist workmen of the past, could not enter the world of imagination, of repeated itself in music. In the summer, faith, of dreams, in which the child lived, the girl would seek the shade of the old and she knew it; but the knowledge did cloisters, and pore over the half-effaced innot part them. To her, the house they scriptions on the mutilated, deserted tombs, lived in, and the surroundings, were pleas- until she became quite an adept in such deant things materially clean, commodious, cipherment; and in her fancy would requiet, respectable - and her occupation mould the historic dust, and marshal the congenial; she liked its responsibilities, she ancient dead among the ranks of her pahighly prized the independence it secured. geant of romance. Every ancient nook in But thongh she knew that Alice liked these the old city was familiar to her, and the things too, and grew each year more happy, busy people knew her well, as she passed though more thoughtful, she had no notion on her quiet way among them, and betook of the world of association, of reverie, of herself to some familiar and farourite spot, delight which the girl conjured up for her. there to study the books in which she found self; she had, happily for her, no prescience the material for her dreams. The ideal of the baseless fabric which was her child's world in which the girl lived was a pure and mental palace-home; no instinctive dread holy region, peopled by heroes, brare, gen

tle, generous, the chivalrous gentlemen of he who had been her playmate in childhood, the old chronicles, redressors of wrong, and who was to be her idol in girlhood, and her devout as they were devoted; the women fate in womanhood — had the faculty of an who dwelt in it were the staid and saintly artist without the soul. Alice Wood loved matrons of the records on the tombs, or the nature; Henry Hurst admired it. In him musing maidens of the troublous times, who, the sentiment never went beyond a semi

sensuous pleasure in form and colouring; “Still bending o'er their 'broidered flowers,

in her it was intense, solemn, and devotionWith spirit far away,'

al. “The angels of God dwell in the leaves embodied the faith, the constancy, and the of every oak in the forests of Derry,' sang patient suffering which seem to have made the exiled apostle of Iona; and even so up the mediæval ideal of a woman's exist- were the splendid woodlands peopled to the ence. No evil or hurtful thing had any pure fancy of Alice. Amid the temples of place in the dream-kingdom of this girl, the trees her soul worshipped and rejoiced ; who as a child had believed firmly in fairies, and better than all poems' would have and many a time wearied her blue eyes in been the language of her heart if it could the moonlight, trying to see the 'good peo- have been spoken ; better than all poems' ple.' Hers was an innocent and beautiful, the revelations of her pale sweet face as and not by any means a useless, life. Alice she gazed upon the woodlands, to any one did her appointed tasks punctually and well, capable of interpreting them. That the and in her dreamy, unsophisticated nature world which contained those trees and those selfishness had no place. Between her and churches could be anything but good as the girls under her mother's care there was well as beautiful, never occurred to Alice. some companionship, but no camaraderie, I love the churches,' she said to Henry and they felt, without either enmity or en- Hurst one day, because they are always vy, that there was something which set her the same, even as God is; and the trees, apart from them all, something more than because they vary like ourselves. I love her pale, clear, alabaster-like face, her them when the first shoots come in the blue eyes with their distant yearning look, spring and the green leaves in the sumher delicate limbs, and her golden hair. mer, when they wear the brown and gold She would try at tiines to talk to them of of the autumn, and when the stems and the fancies that were in her; as, for in- branches are bare in the winter, when they stance, when a bevy of the girls would be let the moonbeams through, or are softly permitted to wander with her on the beau- laden with the snow.' tiful commons lying beyond the town, and I will draw four portraits of one of feast their eyes upon the woods of Stitchall your particular pets, Alice, if you will seand Whitley. But she did not find the at- (lect it; or I suppose I ought to say him,' said tempt very successful; they cared little her companion jestingly, but in a tone of warm for Dugdale, and were not to be aroused to admiration; and Alice was delighted, and enthusiasm by the fact that they might fol-felt assured that these would be the very low his footsteps along the windings of the best and most immortal of pictures. For Sherborne. They had not much respect the girl loved him dearly, devotedly - abfor Shakespeare; and the mention of King sorbingly loved him after her fashion, and he Charles, which Alice could not suppress, loved her after his. when they rested under the elm which had stretched its giant branches over the tent! The growth of the feeling which had reof the insulted sovereign, when the ancient placed the camaraderie of their childhood, city dishonoured herself by disowning him, between the boy and girl, had passed quite had a distasteful reminder of a history- unnoticed by Alice's mother, while it was lesson' in it, and manifestly bored them. perfectly well known to the girls under So, in her few and simple pleasures those Mrs. Wood's care, and to Henry Hurst's of the imagination - Alice Wood was very associates. They met, as a rule, weekly, much alone. She was by no means a mere when the boy would pass the whole of Sundreainer, but the peaceful ordering of her day with his friends, but as Henry grew life gave her a good deal of time for the older and had more liberty accorded him, sort of reading and the train of thought they were together much more frequently. she preferred, and gave to her character its The mother's unconciousness was not the salient features. She had no technical result of any concealment on Alice's part, knowledge of art, but her sense of beauty but simply of her own inaptitude to perwas keen, her enjoyment of it was intense. ceive anything with which she had so little She had the soul, but not the faculty, of an sympathy as the hopes and fancies of young artist; and her best-beloved companion – Ilove. There was one person, beside, who


knew Henry Hurst well, and took a warm procured him instruction at his own exinterest in him, and who did not know that pense. He easily obtained permission for a feeling likely to influence their future Henry to be much with him, and he took lives had sprung up between the two child- infinite pains to cultivate his mind. In ish companions. This person was the Rev. this he succeeded; but Hugh Gaynor was Hugh Gaynor, the curate of Beckthorpe, a of an unsuspicious, guileless nature, and he clergyman who had come to the place had no idea that in the boy's case there exyoung, and was likely to all appearance to isted so great a discrepancy between the remain there till he became old. It suited intellectual and the moral nature. He saw Hugh admirably. The people about were that Henry Hurst received all the instrucpoor and ignorant, and in many ways op- tion which he gave him with avidity, and he pressed; but they lacked the peculiar char- had no suspicion that the religious teaching acteristic brutality which he had met with which it included was sifted from the mass elsewhere and was unable to endure, and he by this young, imbitte ed mind, and rehad found out early in the experiment that jected with scornful incredulity. Let he should probably do a great deal of good those who know what it means to have a among them. The rector was non-resident; father, talk about the fatherhood of God,' he was a gentleman of refined tastes, and Henry Hurst would think; I don't believe preferred continental life; and having a it.' Nor did he, or believe anything except delicate, sentimental expression of counte- that he was the victim of injustice, and that nance, and an accommodating doctor, he the wisest man was the most selfish, the was permitted to indulge his inclinations wariest and most persistent in the pursuit without being interfered with or · bothered' of his own interests, the least affected by by his bishop. The parsonage-house was the feelings, the cares, and the misfortunes let for a sum which materially assisted the of his fellow-men. Hugh Gaynor never rector to live in foreign parts,' after the found this out; he never knew that the fashion which he considered good for his boy's heart was quite unsoftened by his health and due to his position in society; kindness, his generosity, his solicitude; he and Hugh Gaynor lived in a pretty house never knew that a hard-to-be-disguised imon the confines of the parish, completely em- patience was the sentiment with which he bowered in trees, but which commanded a listened when the zealous and consistent fine open prospect of an extensive common, minister of God spoke to him of his eternal with its rich boundary of noble elms, the interests, or, as Henry Hurst mentally de* weed of Warwickshire.'

scribed it, talked shop.' Hypocrisy was The school at which Henry Hurst was not among the forms of human wickedness educated was not far from Hugh Gaynor's with which Hugh Gaynor was well achouse, and the curate took a lively and quainted. Rough and bold crimes, and practical interest in its inmates, and, after the squalid vices, the stultified consciences, a time, in this boy in particular, of whom the contented ignorance of the poor, were he had soon heard all there was to know. all known to him, and he was accustomed The forlornness of the story had touched to dealing with them ; but the workings of Ilugh's kind heart, and hurt his sensitive this boy's mind he did not comprehend, and conscience. There must be a great wrong it gave Henry Hurst a cynical satisfaction done somewhere, or this could not be. to know how completely Hugh Gaynor was Very tenderly and considerately he ques- deceived. He would have been well pleased tioned Henry Hurst; and when he had if he could have believed that his friend learned all he had to tell him, he felt for talked to him merely professionally, mere him more keenly and more kindly than be- formula without faith. But he could not fore. No one in the world to care for the persuade himself that that pleasure was lad but one poor feeble woman, herself a within his reach; he was not a fool, and dependent, and this London lawyer, this without being one he could not have Mr. Eliot Foster, who never came to see doubted Hugh Gaynor. His life was too him, sent for him, or apparently did any- complete and enduring an answer to any thing except pay his school-bills, and make such doubt. So, being debarred from behim a moderate allowance of pocket-money. lieving him insincere, Henry Hurst set the This was a desolate state of things, and curate down as silly. IIugh Gaynor, who knew it would not be The time was drawing near when Henry in his power permanently to remedy it, Hurst's occupation in life must be decided tried to improve it. He discovered the upon. His communications with Mr. Eliot boy's taste and talent for drawing and Foster had been few and curt; but the lawpainting, and being quite ignorant of art yer had been made aware that Henry had a himself, rather over-estimated them, and decided aversion to any kind of trade or business, and a decided predilection for the Alice. He immediately availed himself of profession of an artist. He had already, the permission, and did find her, seated, with through the influence of Hugh Gaynor, ob- her book and her work-basket, in a corner tained some employment in the humbler of the churchyard, at the foot of a fine ashbranches of art, such as designing patterns tree, whose towering branches formed shimand decorations, and executing small land- mering arches far above her head, through scape paintings, which were much talked which the varying lights played upon her of locally, and of which not only Alice felt golden hair. As Henry Hurst approached, very proud, but her mother also, for was his footsteps unheard upon the soft bright not the boy fulfilling her prediction? grass, the picture struck his keen artistic

Several years had passed away while the sense as very beautiful : the silent beauty of few events indicated here were taking place. the spot, with its splendid surroundings of The pretty children, whose beauty had at- grand architecture, and its adornment of tracted the cond scending notice of Mrs. noble trees; the gray tombs and the little Fanshaw, were now respectively a lovely garden-graves, where slept the immemorial girl, and a handsome boy, on the verge of dead, and “the babe who did but yesterday manhood, looking older than he really was, suspire;' and the motionless figure of the and with premature hardness and decision girl, who contrasted, in her gentle young of character, who still realised to the full beauty, with the cold obstruction' of death, the description of his childhood — that he and yet, in her quiet pensive grace, harmohad a clear head and a bad temper.

nised so perfectly with the scene. He stood The last days of Henry Hurst's residence still and looked at her fair face, with its at the Beckthorpe school had arrived, when downcast eyes and long lashes, its delicate one morning he received a short letter from colouring and sweet solemn expression, and Mr. Eliot Foster, in which he expressed a wish for a little felt the full influence — softening, that Henry should repair to London on a cer- purifying, and elevating - of her innocent tain day, and present himself at Gray's Inn. I loveliness. The next movement aroused He took the letter at once to Hugh Gaynor, her attention; she looked up and saw him, who congratulated him on the evident prob- and before she could rise, he was by her ability of his now being started in life ac- side, and had seated himself on the grass. cording to his own wish, and hinted that he · And so you are really going to-morrow,' thought it likely he might now learn some- Alice said, after a long pause which had enthing respecting his parents. It is possi- sued on his telling her all the contents of ble the secret may only have been main- Mr. Eliot Foster's letter, and all his own tained until you shall have arrived at years plans and hopes connected with it. When of discretion, Henry,' Hugh Gaynor said to are you coming back?! him. If you are to hear it now, you must How can I tell?' said Henry. I don't have courage, you know, for it may be very know what he may want me to do, and of painful.'

course I must do what I'm told — at first, at The warning produced no effect on any rate. But I will come as soon as I can, Henry Hurst; he had a fixed idea that he Alice, my darling; and then I shall know was unjustly debarred from a wealthy and what there is before me in life, and when I luxurious place in the world, and the only can come for you and tell you we are never feelings aroused by the hope that a solution to part again. of the long-mantained mystery was possible T'he beautiful colour deepened in the girl's were curiosity and vindictiveness.

| face, and the light brightened in her eyes; The same afternoon, Henry Hurst went and the two sat, with the embleins of death to Coventry, and communicated the con- around them, close by the dwellings of the tents of Mr. Eliot Foster's letter to Mrs. dead, hand-in-hand, and talked with all the Wood. She was prepared to learn them, lofty presumption and delicious enthusiasm having also heard from the lawyer. She of their glorious youth, of love and life, as dismissed him, after a short interview, say- though they two held, alone among mankind, ing she was busy, and he might go and find the patent of immortality.

Estant requis d'escripre en poesie ;
From Fraser's Magazine.

Il vauldroit mieux du tout n'en poinct avoir.

Les dieux, les cieulx, la mort, et la haine et l'envie

| Sont sourds, irés, cruels, animés contra moy; CELUY vrainent n'a point de courtoisie Prier, soufrir, pleurer, a chascun estre amye, Qui en bon lieu ne montra son sçavoir, sont les remedles seuls qu'en tant d'ennuye je voy. From The Spectator, 22 August. I thing in Southern progress is likely to balTHE COUNTRY OF THE LOST CAUSE. ance. But the South is recovering from the

war with the elasticity of a young country, THERE is a certain significance in the very and in a few years will be all the stronger name of the Lost Cause, by which citizens for the changes that have been forced on it. of the Southern States remember their late | The mere abolition of slavery is an incalcustruggle. The old arrogant tone of the lable gain to the country. Four millions of slaveholding fire-eaters has been succeeded people are no longer anxiously on the watch for a time by prostration and despondency. for whatever may ruin their masters or free It was part of their weakness in the past themselves, while they have a direct interest that they lived in a world which they could in earning a livelihood and acquiring propnot understand, and drew their auguries of erty. Apologists of the old order point to success even more from a belief in the base- the fact that the production of cotton and ness of other people than from confidence rice has declined. "They forget that a whole in their own strength. That Englishmen at system of new industries has been devellarge would face a cotton famine sooner than oped. All along the Southern seaboard ally their country with slavery; that public market gardens are springing up, and vegeopinion in France would prove stronger than | tables and fruits are exported in large quanthe Emperor's wish to secure his position in tities to the Northern cities. It was part Mexico; that the North would shed blood of the slaveholding system to favour the and treasure like water in defence of the planting industries, to the exclusion of all national flag, were experiences the more others. We have heard of a property in painful because they had not been antici- Virginia where a lode of plumbago was used pated by the most acute Southern states- for manure as marl, the proprietor not men. Even after Lee's surrender there knowing its value and not caring to inquire. were men in the South who still thought Large deposits of phospbate of lime, exthat it was practicable and politic to assume tending over a tract of many miles in South a position of hectoring independence. Mod- Carolina, are now being worked for the first erate terms were rejected, and the States time, and have already proved a valuable proceeded to pass laws for enslaving the export. The rice flour that used to be labour of coloured men, while they were thrown away has proved to be an excellent left nominally free. The result has been food for stock. The real change, in fact, is deplorable for both sections of the Union. that while the Blacks refuse at present to The North was forced in honour to defend perform some of the more repulsive labours, the Blacks, and practically could only do so such as clearing the ditches on rise plantaby making them the depositaries of political tions, they are perfectly willing to work at power. The South is held down by military all ordinary employments, are anxious to force, and is governed by its old slaves. acquire land, and are finding out industries Coloured men divide or dominate in the of their own; while their masters are using State Houses of Legislature, and are aspir- their capital more thriftily. It seems certain ing to judgeships and governorships. Sel- that the general prosperity is returning. dom has a divine judgment on flagrant mis- Atalanta has been rebuilt on a larger scale rule been more visibly carried out, and it is than before; New Orleans is prospering; not wonderful if the leaders and veterans of Savannah is growing daily, and promises to the Southern secession feel it bitterly. In be a great commercial centre; and the new the late Democratic Convention in New railway from it to Apalachicola has been York nothing impressed observers more built entirely or chiefly by local subscripthan the unfamiliar modesty of the Southern tions. Of course, there are exceptions to delegates. Men like Rhett, Wade Hamp- this general revival. Charleston is a case ton, and Forrest, whose violence had pre- in point. The rice. plantations of South cipitated the war, or who had disgraced it Carolina were in great measure ruined by by savage license, were now scarcely to be Sherman's soldiers; and the temporary loss seen or heard in conference, and disclaimed to the employer from the abolition of forced all pretensions to dictate or indicate a policy. labour has naturally been felt more where It seemed as if the country, which lately the proportion of slaves was large. At first, called itself an empire, had sunk to be a lit- in South Carolina as elsewhere, a few Northtle less than a province.

erners tried to settle in the State and reIt would not be safe, we think, to assume trieve the ruined properties. The Northern that these relations of North and South will statement is that wherever this experiment be maintained. The trade of New York has been tried the settler's life has been and the settlement of the Western States threatened or his property has been wasted are, it is true, elements of strength that no- l by sudden fires. Southerners deny the

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