been ever made of gold." But when she begged that they might be brought for her to look at, he added, "that would lose too many days; and, besides, they are so numerous, that no room in your house would hold them." When she heard this, her desire and curiosity to see them became so strong, that she ordered him to conduct her to his vessel, saying, "I will myself go, and see your master's treasures." Very gladly Johan led her on board; but when the king saw her, and found her yet more beautiful than the statue, he thought his heart would have been torn to pieces by his rapture; and he showed her all the golden furniture in the ship, while Johan remained behind, and helped the sailors to raise the anchor, and spread the sails to the breeze; so that the vessel flew through the waters, like a bird through the air. Many hours went by, whilst she was looking at the birds and the beasts, the cups and the dishes; and, in her joy, she did not perceive the rapid course of the ship: but when, at last, she would have thanked the merchant, and gone home, she looked over the side of the vessel, and saw her own town and castle whitening in the distance. Then her soul fainted within her, and she called out, "Ah me, I am betrayed, I am ruined, and am in the power of this artful merchant. Better had I died." But the king took her by the hand, and said, "I am no merchant, but a king, and of birth as royal as your own. It is my love for you that has urged me to carry you away thus artfully: the first time I saw your statue, I fell, without power, to the ground." When the princess heard that, she was comforted, and her heart melted towards him, so that she quite willingly became his wife. One day, whilst they were still on the wide sea, and the faithful Johan was sitting in the fore part of the ship, playing on a lute, he saw three ravens, which kept hovering near him; so he stopped, and listened to what they were saying to each other; which he perfectly understood. He heard the first say, "He is leading home the daughter of the king of the golden roof." "Yes," said the second, "but he has not got her safe yet." But," answered the third, "there she is, sitting beside him, in the ship." Then the first spoke again, and said, "How does that help him? For, when they land, a horse as red as a fox will spring to meet him, and he will jump on him; but, if he does, he will be carried away through the air, and never see his beautiful lady again." "But," asked the second, "is there no way of saving him?" "Oh yes," answered the first, "if another quickly takes the fire arms, which are stuck in his halter, and shoots him dead, then is the young king saved. But he who knows, and does, and tells that, will be turned to stone, from the foot to the knee." Then the second said, "I know yet more than that. If the horse were dead, the young king would not be sure of his bride, for, when they come into the castle, they will see, in a box, a wedding garment, which shines like silver and gold, although it is nothing but sulphur and pitch; and, if he puts it on, it will burn him to the marrow of his bones." But," said the third, "is there no way of saving him?" "Oh yes," answered the second, "if some one, with gloves on, takes hold of the garment, and throws it into the fire, then is the young king saved: but how does that help him? for he who knows, and does, and tells that, will be turned to store, from the knee to the heart." "Then," said the third, "I know more than that. | For, even if the wedding garment were burnt, the young king would not be sure of his bride; for if, after the wedding, they begin dancing, and the bride dances, she will suddenly turn pale, and fall to the ground; and, if they do not raise her up immediately, and draw from her neck three drops of blood, she will never again recover: but how does that help him? for he who knows, and does, and tells that, will be turned to stone, from his heart to his head." After this, they all three flew away, and the faithful Johan remained silent and sorrowful; for he thought to himself, "If I tell not my lord what I have heard, the misfortunes will fall upon him, and, if I do, my own life will be the sacrifice." But, at last, he resolved to keep his promise to the old king, and save his son, without telling him anything, even if it should cost him his life. Everything happened just as the ravens had said; for as soon as they were landed, a horse, as red as a fox, sprang to meet them. "Ah!" cried the king, "this shall carry me to the castle;" and, as he spoke, he laid his hand on his neck; but, before he could jump on his back, Johan rushed forward, drew the weapons from his halter, and shot him dead. When the other servants saw what was done, they murmured loudly, saying, "It was shameful to kill such a beautiful beast, and which would have carried the king so well to the castle." But the king ordered them to be silent, "For he is my faithful Johan, and who knows whether what he has done is not right?" When they came into the castle, there stood in the hall an open box, in which lay a wedding garment, that shone like gold. The young king went up to it, and would have taken hold of it, but the faithful Johan pushed him away, seized it in his gloved hand, threw it quickly into the fire, and there let it burn. Then the other servants began to murmur again, and said, “See, now, he has burned the king's wedding garment." But the king answered, "Who knows whether it is not right? let him alone, he is my faithful Johan." After they were married, they went back into the hall, the musicians played their merriest tune, and the dancing began. At last, the bride and bridegroom arose, and joined it, and the faithful Johan sat near them, to watch the queen's countenance. All at once, she turned deadly pale, and fell to the ground; then he sprang hastily up, carried her in his arms into the next room, laid her down on a couch, and kneeling beside her, drew three blood drops from her neck. Immediately she began to breathe again, and at last sat upright: but the king, who had seen all that Johan had done, was very angry, and called out, in his rage, that he should be thrown into prison directly; and the other servants hastened to draw him away to the dungeons. The next day, Johan was judged, and condemned to die; but as he stood in the court, before he was taken away to execution, he said, "Every criminal is allowed to speak before he dies: may not I, also, make my defence?" And the king said,-certainly, he might do so. "Then," Johan continued, "my sentence is an unjust sentence; for I have served you most faithfully:" and he related all that he had heard the ravens say, and showed how all that he had done was necessary, to serve his lord and master. Then the king cried out, "Oh! my most faithful Johan, pardon! pardon!" and threw himseif on his neck: but, hardly had this good ser vant uttered the last words, than he fell on the floor, a senseless statue of stone. Very great was the grief of the king and queen; Poetry. printed in Small Capitals under the title; in Selections, it is printed in Italics at the end.] AGATHA. [BY ANNABEL C. ] AGATHA, the daughter of William the Conqueror, was betrothed to Earl Edwin, the Saxon chief, who, preserve the liberties of his countrymen, and whose life with his brother Morcar, made so brave an attempt to was the sacrifice of his devoted gallantry. The remainder of Agatha's history is told in the following ballad :— the king, especially, continually lamented him, [In Original Poetry, the Name, real or assumed, of the Author, is saying, Alas, how have I rewarded his faithful services ! And he ordered the statue to be taken up into his chamber, and placed by his bed, and, whenever he looked at it, he wept, and said, "Oh! could I but make you alive again, my beloved Johan.' After a time, the queen had two little sons, who, as they grew, day by day became more and more the delight and joy of their parents. Once, when their mother was gone to the church, the children sat and played by the king, who stopped in the midst of his caressings, and looked up at the statue, full of grief, and sighed, "Ah! my beloved Johan, could I but make you alive again, I might, indeed, be happy." Then speech was given to the statue, and the stone spoke, and said, "If you are willing to sacrifice that which is dearest to your heart, you may restore me to life again." And the king answered, "All that I have in the world will I gladly give to free you." "Then," continued the statue, "you must, with your own hand, cut off the heads of your two little sons, and sprinkle me with their blood." The poor king sat a long time grieving, when he heard that it was only by the death of his two children, that he could restore Johan to life. At last, as he thought of his great truth, and that he had died for him, he drew his sword, cut off their heads, and sprinkled the stone with their blood; and, immediately, life returned into it, and the faithful Johan stood again beside him, fresh and sound, and said to him, "Now will I, also, reward your truth and fidelity." So he took the heads of the two children, put them again upon their shoulders, washed their wounds with their own blood, and, instantly, they jumped and played about again, as if nothing had happened. Then the king was full of joy, and, when he heard the queen coming, he hid Johan and the two children in a great closet, and, as she entered, he asked her if she had been to pray in the church, and she answered, "Yes, but I could not help thinking of the faithful Johan, and how, for our sakes, he had perished miserably; and I prayed, that our great sin of ingratitude might be forgiven us." Then he said, "Dear lady, it will, indeed, be forgiven us, and we can restore him also to life again; but it will cost us both our children, for they must both die." When she heard his words, she turned very pale, and fear crept into her heart; but she said, firmly, Let us, then, sacrifice them, since only so can we pay the great debt we owe him for his constant truth." Then the king rejoiced, that she thought as he had thought, and he went and opened the closet, and brought out his little sons, and the faithful Johan; and said, "God be praised, he is freed, and our dear ones are restored to us!" and he related to her how it had all happened. Then was the cup of their happiness filled to overflowing, and they all three lived out their days together, in peace and prosperity, and in a perfect trust, that no doubt ever again disturbed. "Nay, urge me not, dear father! The sunlight shed o'er my youthful head. Like a dream whose hues were lovely Whose robe of gold grew dim and cold Like a dew-drop in the morning, Like a bird that carols blythely, Ere the bow is bent; So brightly dawned my morning, And I awoke with a thunder stroke For my lot seemed the fairest, The present was all sunshine, On a mist that hid so softly, Both flower and tree, all things that he Which, though it veiled their beauty, And round things beneath would ever wreathe For my young troth was plighted To a warrior true; And my maiden heart in its inmost part For he was good and valiant; Ah me! ah me! oh woe is me! And o'er his grave the wild winds rave Oh, I did love him dearly All worldly things above; And a soul so bright and a heart so right, Our souls were knit together, They were no longer twain; No single thought but the other caught, And responded to again. He was my first love, father! My first and only one; And my heart is sere and my soul is drear My happiness is done. Then urge me not, dear father! The sunlight shed o'er my youthful head And force me not, I pray thee, To wed the Spanish king; And in foreign land from unknown hand "Nay, daughter," stern he answered; "Nay, it must be so; I have said the word, and thou hast heard. Then Agatha, all weeping, To the king replied That Conqueror proud, who spake aloud "Then God in heaven have mercy! Let my spirit be free ere I cross the sea; That my soul may sail on a heavenly gale These words said the maiden; These, and only these. They deck her with pride as a royal bride, A ship with pennons flying Waiteth in the bay; They lead her there with a train so fair: The merry wind is singing Through the sails so white; Thus on the waters bounding, But though in pride she swept the tide, The vessel rode on gaily, Gaily on she sped; The sun shone high in the clear blue sky, But the words of humble prayer Were heard above by the God of love! Miscellaneous. "I have here made only a nosegay of culled flowers, and have brought nothing of my own, but the string that ties them."-Montaigne. THE EDITOR'S BOX. then do the occupants of this box, seated on the front JOURNALISM IN AUSTRIA. THE number of journals at present published in the Austrian States is 159; which, compared with the population, amounting to 31,500,000, gives one journal for every 198,110 inhabitants. Of these journals, 40 are political, 12 commercial, and 107 literary and scientific. In Austria, properly so called, there are 29; in the Lombardo-Venetian kingdom, 43; in Hungary, 21; in Bohemia, 17; and in the rest of the Austrian States, 49. Of these journals, 76 are written in German, 53 in Italian, 15 in Sclavonian, 1 in French, and 14 in various other dialects.--Galignani's Messenger. JEREMY TAYLOR, in his beautiful sermon on the duties of the tongue, observes: "God is pleased with no music from below so much as in the thanksgiving songs of relieved widows, of supported orphans, of rejoicing, and THE box at the extreme right of the gallery, is that comforted, and thankful persons. This part of our comoccupied by the editors-in-chief of the Paris journalɛ;munication does the work of God and of our neighbours, and that box is the true political barometer of the and bears us to heaven in streams made by the overflowChamber, though visible only to an initiated few. If ing of our brother's comfort." the discussion in progress be important-if M. Guizot, M. Thiers, or M. Berryer, be at the tribune, all is earnest attention; the silence is broken only by some exclamation of enthusiasm, or some muttered expression of anger or indignation, mingling with the signs of blame or assent of the legislators below, during the interruptions so frequent in the French Chamber. But if, on the contrary, some honourable member attacks the tribune manuscript in hand, or begins a deliberate paraphrase of the articles of the journals (as happens at times) or if there be a suspension of the sitting, enabling the speech-weary deputies to rush to the tavern The Duchess of Orleans CONTENTS. Page Page 182 . Ecclesiastical Architecture, Agatha Lucy Cooper, Chap. IV. .... Lady Mary, a Ballad, (Rev. 185 191 192 London:-Published by T. B. SHARPE, 15, Skinner Street, Snow-hill. No. 13.] London Magazine: A JOURNAL OF ENTERTAINMENT AND INSTRUCTION JANUARY 24, 1846. [PRICE 14d. But the battle of Poictiers, won in France, But ours was a Christian conqueror, Was the noblest of all his fights; The French were many-the English few; He ask'd not how many might be the foe; Of all the knights who fought that day, His wounds were three, won valiantly, On cheek, and brow, and breast: And the Black Prince said, when the fight was o'er, He never had seen such a knight before. And did they chain King John of France? Was he in dungeon laid? Oh, little ye know what a generous foe Our English Edward made! A gentle heart, and an arm of might- On a palfrey slight and low: He spoke to the king with a reverent mien, He treated King John like an honour'd guest; With courteous air, and with forehead bare, But the prisoner's heart it grew not light, A captive king and a conquer'd knight, E'en while his courteous words were speaking, Another lay shall the story teli Of this valiant king and true: He loved the Black Prince passing well, The Romans when they won the day Fetter'd and chain'd, through Rome; Generous, and true, and kind: Though the grave has now closed o'er his brow, He hath left this rule behind,That valour should ever wedded be To mercy, and not to cruelty. From Lays and Ballads of English History. AMERICA AND HER SLAVE STATES. No. IV. (Concluded.) THE hot-springs of Washita may fairly rank, for natural curiosities, with those in the volcanic valley of New Zealand. A narrow vale, edged in on either side by lofty ridges of sandstone, where wretched log-cabins afford the sole accommodation for the traveller and visitor, comprises the far-famed watering-place. At the base of the eastern ridge, on a bed of clay slate, runs a shallow little stream, into which the hot-springs flow from the lofty face of the ridge, varying in their sources, from 150 to 300 feet above the bed of the brook. With a mean temperature of 145° Fahrenheit, these copious springs form, in times when the brook is swollen, a continuous upper surface of hot water, over the trickling cold stream below. At times, in the deep pools, fish float merrily in the lower cold stream, and, when tempted by crumbs of bread, trust their noses into the upper run of hot water, and retreat with a celerity proportioned to the warmth of the spring. With thirty-five springs, all flowing into one small stream, the great difficulty is to find cold water, From this curiosity of inanimate nature, let us pass to an example of the more than instinct of animate nature, an act of undoubted reasoning in the savage buffalo. The old hunter had struck, but far from mortally wounded, a huge male buffalo: enraged with the wound, the beast pressed him hard, and unable to reload, the hunter turned and fled :— "In running down a short hill, some briars threw him down, and he dropped his gun. There was a tree not far from him, of about eighteen inches in diameter, and everything seemed to depend upon his reaching it; but as he rose to make a push for it, the buffalo struck him on the fleshy part of his thigh, with his horn, and slightly wounded him. Before the beast, however, could wheel round upon him again, he gained the tree, upon which all the chance he had of preserving his life rested. A very few feet from this tree grew a sapling, about four or five inches in diameter; a most fortunate circumstance for the hunter, as it contributed materially to save his life. The buffalo now doggedly followed up his purpose of destroying his adversary, and a system of attack and defence commenced that, perhaps, is without a parallel. The buffalo went round and round the tree, pursuing the man, jumping at him in the peculiar manner of that animal, every time he thought there was a chance of killing him; whilst Percival, grasping the tree with his arms, swung himself round it with greater rapidity than the animal could follow him. In this manner the buffalo harassed him more than four hours, until his hands became so sore with rubbing against the rough bark of the oak tree, and his limbs so fatigued, that he began to be disheartened. In going round the tree, the buffalo would sometimes pass between it and the sapling; but the distance between them was so narrow, that it inconvenienced him, especially when he wanted to make his jumps; he, therefore, went round the sapling instead of inside of it. The time thus con |