and stunted oaks; the sandy slopes, oc- | unacquainted with the language, it may casionally broken by rocky banks and be supposed that my feelings were not prickly pears, casting deep and softened very enviable, for shadows on the lichen-dotted stones below; the lulling sound of the murmuring brook, as its limpid stream glides amid the fresh water-cresses, dancing o'er the bright pebbles, or lazily meandering o'er the shallow bed of sand, washed from the mountain heights, and winding amid a thousand beauties and sweets of Nature; the humming-bee, as he leaves his bed of flowers, greeting the smiling morn; the echoing bleat of distant folds, and the morning song of the mountaineer, as he climbs his beaten path; the matin concert of Suristan's birds, as they flit through its balmy air; while the heaven-tuned song of the gladsome lark, as soaring he carols above; and the distant landscape dappled o'er with shadows flung from the dark clouds just tinged with the golden rays of the god of gladness, as he smiles on the morn, bring ecstasy and exhaustless bliss to those that have studied the works of Him as they should be studied-in solitude. Oh! give me an hour in Aram's land "To sit on rocks-to muse o'er flood and fellTo slowly trace the forest's shady scene, Where things, that own not man's dominion dwell, And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been; Pthu ----u, whistled a ball past my ear, so close that I almost fancied it brushed my hair, as I was leading my horse down a ravine about three hours' ride from Baalbec. On turning round to see who fired it, I observed an Arab crouching behind a rock, who had fired at an eagle, and frightened my horse. The horse fled, and escaped. Exhausted with pursuing him, I threw myself on the ground, but after reflecting, wrapped my rug around me, and followed on the road to Baalbec. The road was completely barren-no shelter from a burning sun, and nearly A TRANSLATION FROM THE GERMAN. UNTIL within a few years ago, there was regularly seen, at the door of a certain church in Paris, an old beggar man, who took up his post upon the same steps day by day. His manner, his tone, his speech, indicated a higher breeding than that which the misery of this calling generally accompanies. He wore his ragged clothes with a peculiar air, and from beneath them seemed to glimmer forth the remembrance of a better lot. This beggar-his name, by the way, was Jacques-enjoyed from the poor of his district a deserved respect; his good nature, his impartiality and disinterestedness in dividing the alms, and his zeal in settling disputes, having acquired for him a certain rank above the rest of the poor. Beyond this, nothing was known of him-his life and misfortunes remained to all, as to his most familiar acquaint ance, a mystery. Each morning, for five-and-twenty years, brought him punctually to the same place, and people were so accustomed to see him there, that he had, in a manner, become a part of the church gate; one thing, however, was remarked of him, that, though apparently a zealous and devout Catholic, he never set foot within the church. When the hymn resounded through the halls of God's house; when the incense from the altar, mingling with the prayers of the faithful, ascended to Heaven; when the solemn and melodious voice of the organ blended with the chorus of the Christian multitude; then did the old man feel his soul drawn out, and his desires, tending like all around him, upward! but yet he stood outside, and, standing apart, beheld the spectacles which passed within the temple. "I need nothing more," answered the beggar; "my death is near-that I feel, in every limb-oh! that my conscience were only at peace!" "Your conscience! You have, perhaps, a great sin upon your heart, for which you cannot answer before the Eternal ?" The effulgence of the lights streaming through the painted gothic windows; the rows of pillars, standing there for centuries firm and immovable-symbols "A crime, Holy Father! a terrible of that eternal religion which the multi-crime-which my whole life has not been tude there adored upon their knees-all able to expiate-a crime which no parinvoluntarily filled him with awe. Tears don can wipe away!" were sometimes seen upon his withered cheeks, and it was evident that either a great misfortune, or a terrible remorse, burdened and tormented his soul. A certain priest daily performed mass in this church-a scion of one of the first families in France in point of wealth and influence; he took great pleasure in works of benevolence. The beggar had become the object of particular attention with him, and every morning the beneficent Abbé Paulin mingled his gift with words of advice and consolation. One day, the old man did not make his appearance at the wonted hour upon the church steps. Surprised at this, the priest sought out his abode, and found him lying ill on a miserable straw bed. On entering, the Abbé's gaze was at once arrested by the strange contrast of luxury and misery which lay before him. A splendid gold watch hung above the hard bed; two pictures, in gilt frames, with rich overhanging golden flowerwork, shone upon the white, damp walls. An ivory figure of Christ, most exquisitely wrought, stood upon a small table at the feet of the sick man; an antique chair, with gothic decorations and damask covering, stood in a corner, and upon it lay a silver-clasped prayer-book; everything else was mean, and spoke of utter penury. The sight of the priest evidently revived the invalid, and rising on his arm, he said;-"Ah, Father Abbé, it is indeed kind of you to remember an unfortunate creature like me!" "My friend," replied Paulin, "a servant of God must not forget either the happy or the unhappy. I come to ask you of what you may lie in need." "A crime beyond pardon! That cannot be my friend; the mercy of God is greater than the sins of mortals can be." May I still hope? I, the vilest of my race, whom the earth has borne too long?' 66 "Yes! thou mayest hope, unhappy one," cried the priest, with holy enthusiasm; "a doubt of the pardon of the Almighty were a greater blasphemy than thy sin itself. Freely confess thy crime: I hear thee, in the name of the All-Merciful; in the name of Him who desires not the death of the sinner, but that he should return to Him and live." And the priest uncovered his head, while the sick man related the following: "I am the son of a poor farmer; but the lady of the manor, whose fields my father held, being partial to me, took me, when quite a boy, into her castle, and I was appointed valet-de-chambre to her son. The education I received, and my aptitude in all branches of learning, changed my fate for the better. I was promoted to be secretary. I had reached my twenty-fifth year, when the Revolution burst forth; my eager spirit was fired, by reading in the journals the vivid transactions of that period-my ambition awoke, and I blushed for the inferior station I held. I formed the resolution of quitting the castle-the asylum of my youth-and ah! had I carried out this plan, I had been spared the commission of a dreadful sin! "The liberty and equality mania soon broke out in the province, and, fearful of being seized by the peasantry in his own castle, my lord dismissed all his servants. The property was reduced to money as quickly as might be, and taking nothing "The reward of so many sins was a sum of 3,000 francs, in gold, and the valuable objects which you see around me here, and which are, ever, to me, terrible remembrances of my villany. with them of all their riches, except a | And who was this blood-thirsty monster? few costly family relics, the family set It was I! out for Paris, and there, in obscurity, sought safety and peace. I, likewise, like a son of the house, followed them. The Reign of Terror was at its height; being on the list of "Emigrants," they were eagerly sought after; but their place of retreat was unknown; and I only being acquainted with their real names-for they had changed them on arrival-they lived, in the midst of the universal tumult, unknown, united, and peaceful. In firm trust on God's Providence, they hoped for a better future. Vain hope! The only man who possessed their secret betrayed them. I was their accuser. Father, mother, four daughtersangels of beauty and innocence and a son, ten years old, were cast into prison. Their trial was speedily brought on. At that time the most insignificant pretext was sufficient to deliver an innocent person to death. The public accuser, however, had some difficulty in finding any charge against this noble family. But there was a wretch, who, admitted to their private conversation-nay, to their very thoughts-knew how to give a criminal meaning to the most trivial words and even charged them with a conspiracy: and that wretch was myself! "The sentence of death was passed passed on every one of that noble family the boy alone excepted. Alas! the unhappy orphan was only spared to bewail his dear parents and sisters; and then, perhaps, to curse their murderer. "Tranquil, and receiving consolation from the consciousness of innocence, the unhappy victims awaited in their prison the dark day of death. "But a mistake arose in the order of the numerous executions. The day on which they should have died by the guillotine passed by. They were forgotten, and might have escaped the scaffold, had not a man-no, a monster! lusting to possess their inheritance-reminded the tribunal of this omission. "His infamous passion was satisfied: and the execution took place that evening. "When the deed was done, I tried to drown my conscience in all kinds of debaucheries; but the money, the unholy fruit of my ingratitude, was scarcely grasped, when the gnawings of remorse began to torture me. No plan-no undertaking - no work succeeded; I became poor and frail. It was then I took up my station at the church-door, as a beggar, which I occupied for so many years; but the remembrance of my guilt was so piercing, so annihilating, that I never dared to call in the aid of religion, nor to put up a prayer to the Almighty in his own house. That was the reason of my never entering the church. "The alms which I received-especially yours, honoured Abbé, enabled me, by very frugal living, to save again the sum of which I had robbed my unhappy benefactors. Here, in the table-drawer, it lies, together with the interest. These articles of luxury which you see-this watch, that figure of Christ, that book, and the two veiled pictures, also belonged to my victims. Ah! sir; do you think that I, the greatest of sinners, dare hope for pardon from God?" My son," replied the priest, "your sin is indeed terrible, and a life of tears is not enough to atone for it; but the goodness and mercy of the Saviour, who came to save that which was lost, is boundless, and true repentance is more than equal to the crime." With these words the priest arose. The beggar, as if animated by a new life, sprang from the bed, and sank upon his knee. The Abbé spoke over him that momentous word which looses the repentant sinner from his burden. Stay," cried the beggar; "stay, my guardian angel; before I receive, in the name of the All-Merciful, the pardon of my misdeed, all the fruits of my crime must pass from me too; take this money, and these articles of taste, sell them yourself, and divide the money among the 66 poor." The beggar, starting up, took the veils from both pictures, and exclaimed: -"Behold the features of those whom I murdered." The Abbé stood rooted to the eartha loud cry burst from him :--" My father! My mother!" and he covered his face with his hands. He sank into a chair: deep agony, joined with abhorrence for the murderer, at that moment filled his soul; but he soon recovered himself, for the wretched man, turning to his feet in despair, cried in a piercing voice-" Pardon! Pardon! son of the noblest of fathers! of the best of mothers, whom I murdered!" His duty and his holy office gave the priest fresh courage; the struggle between filial affection, and his sacred charge, was soon ended: human weakness had only for a moment demanded his tears; the religion of the Cross now uplifted his noble soul. He seized the Crucifix, the heirloom of his father, and holding it up before the beggar, said in a gentle voice "Look on Christ!-is thy repentance sincere ?" "Yes." all the fine clothing and embroidery, all the wine and preserves, distilled herbals for medicine, and studied surgery; became perfect in the art and mystery of nursing and midwifery; then off to the downs with hawk and hounds, and back to beef and strong ale. Further on, Mary Queen of Scots made half the Royal bed-quilts of Europe, and no end of Gobelin tapestry. Nay, so careful was she of her curtains, that when she knew Darnley was to be "disposed of," she shifted her silk awnings the night before and replaced them with serge counterpanes and testers. She knew what work was, and could not bear to have good needlework soiled. Even to the beginning, perhaps well into the middle of the last century, our great-great-grand-grandmothers were too illiterate to be idle. The squire's wife was as resolute a worker as any in the parish, and "idle hussy" (a corruption of housewife) her most stinging epithet. Even Lady Bountiful was "notable housewife." She had a soft place in her head, indeed, for Ranelagh, Chloe, and Sir Charles Grandison; but in the main the traditional industry of an a "Dost thou abhor thy crime from thy tiquity was a point of honour, of duty, whole soul?" "Yes." "It is well, then! Thou followest "The Thief;' I forgive thee in the name of God the Father; in the name of the Son, who died upon the Cross for man; in the name of the Holy Ghost who sanctified us!" and he laid his hands upon the dying man and blessed him. With his face bent to the earth, the Beggar lay at the feet of the Priest, motionless. The Abbé stretched out his arms to raise him up. The erring spirit had passed for ever. with her. She was not only industrious herself, but the cause of industry in others. In fact she kept her maids at work by working herself. Pray-were they not genteel? Why, the Howards, the Plantagenets, the Jane Greys, and Lady Russells, considered it even low and vulgar to be of no use. A gentlewoman was only a lady by being thoroughly accomplished in domestic utilities. Even at the beginning of the century, the most distinguished old families in the United States consumed or wore very little that they did not produce on their own estates. And in the reign of Charles I., the Hampdens, Pyms, and Hollisses thought the Court vulgar, and devoted themselves and their families to the development of WHAT LADIES DID IN DAYS OF their domestic resources, living, summer YORE. WHAT were the womankind of the nobility and gentry of Europe about when their fathers, husbands, and sweethearts were at the Holy Land? Spun and wove all the bed and table linen, made and winter, in the country upon their family acres. The farmer's wife and daughters kept the profits of the butter, eggs, and poultry, and the spinet or harpsichord was heard at the great house alone. THE FIRST OF APRIL, OR THE ORIGIN OF ALL-FOOLS' DAY. A TALE: TRANSLATED FROM THE DUTCH OF ART BEUZELAAR VAN SAERDAAM. IN the flourishing island of Chiekock, there reigned formerly an old King, whose piety and justice gained him the protection of heaven and the love of his subjects. His name was Inocamosamma, and his court was composed of several faithful ministers, among whom not a single flatterer could be found. Throughout the whole extent of this happy country, not a beggar was to be seen, nor any idle or dissipated persons; but all the inhabitants were peaceful and laborious, and each considered himself a friend of the King. Such was the happiness of old Inocamosamma. The only disappointment he felt was the want of a son to succeed him on the throne; but even this could not extort a complaint, for he was disposed to regard everything as designed for the best. The Queen, however, was inconsolable, and passed days and nights before the statue of Fekula-pussa, imploring the goddess to grant her a child. She also made seven pilgrimages to Mount Fusinogamma. The goddess, at length fatigued with such importunities, consummated her wishes, in defiance to the will of an old sorcerer named Ciongock, who had been insulted by the grandfather of the Queen, and had vowed vengeance to her family in consequence. Ciongock, finding himself thwarted, became furious, and threatened with ruin the Queen and her progeny. The good fairies, however, who were all disposed in her fayour, determined to prevent his diabolical intentions, for they knew his power, and the boldness with which he braved the gods and their own race. They accordingly assisted at the birth of the child; and Zoimane, the eldest of the fairies, blessed him, saying, “be the friend of the gods." Asaide, her companion, did the same, bidding him "reign like his father." Zimzime, touched with her finger the tongue and hand of the Prince, exclaiming, "be wise and happy." Alcimedore, the youngest fairy, kissed the infant, and whispered in his ear, "be amiable." The Queen, transported with joy at the good fortune of her son, was returning her thanks, when the sorcerer Ciongock, seated in a thick cloud, appeared in the apartment, and regarding the child with a malignant smile, exclaimed, "But I, I will be thine enemy." Saying these words, he disappeared, leaving the Queen in a state of fear and agitation, from which she only recovered by the kind attention of the sympathising fairies. Zoimane undertook the education of the Prince, to whom the name of Tsiamma was given. She never doubted for an instant but he would become a good King, prudent and virtuous; but she was also aware that the wicked sorcerer would contrive a thousand plans for depriving him of the advantages he might naturally expect. Accordingly, she instilled precepts of firmness and resignation in his mind, and when he had attained his eighteenth year-the age when, by the laws of his country, he was called to the throne-she conducted him herself to the royal dais, recommended him to the care of the assembled council, and embracing him, said :-" Prince, be worthy of your father, and remember that virtue is its own recompense, however the world may misunderstand it." Regarding the monarch with a last look of affectionate interest, she disappeared on a cloud of azure. Ciongock was seated at the entrance to his solitary cavern, meditating schemes of evil, when he perceived Zoimane flying in the air. This departure of the fairy informed him that Tsiamma had uudertaken the cares of government, and his countenance beamed with fiendish joy. "Yes, Tsiamma," he cried, "I will be thine enemy, as I have been to thy fathers. Be virtuous, generous, sage, just, and the friend of the gods, but all these gifts of the fairies shall not avail thee. I will pervert the hearts of thy subjects, and the people of neighbouring states. They shall consider thy piety hypocrisy. Although thy sway may be beneficent, thy people shall revolt against thee. Be good and prudent, if thou wilt: thou shalt be despised. All thy life thou wilt pursue shadows, and thy greatest enterprises shall appear but a ridiculous vision." While thus speaking, Ciongock mounted his chariot, drawn by four grey dragons, and proceeded to the island of Chiekock. Poets relate that the flowers faded on his pathway, and birds hushed their songs, while the cruel sorcerer passed on his way. In the meantime, the estimable qualities of Tsiamma gained the affections of all his subjects, and flattered by the acclamations that saluted him, he announced his intention of preparing a discourse to the people, according to the custom of his ancestors, who, in this respect, differed from Oriental Princes, inasmuch as the latter never speak in public. The day having arrived, a large concourse entered the gates of the palace, anxious to |