had a right to despair; a successful ruler in all the difficulties of a course wholly untried, but a warrior whose sword only left its sheath when the first law of our nature commanded it to be drawn, and a ruler who, having tasted of supreme power, gently and unostentatiously desired that the cup might pass from him, nor would suffer more to wet his lips than the most solemn and most sacred duty to his country and his God required.

-LORD BROUGHAM.

NIGHT ON LAKE COUCHICHING.

I.

THE purple shadows dreamingly

Upon the dreaming waters lie,

And darken with the darkening sky.

Calmly across the lake we float,
I and thou, my little boat-
The lake, with its grey mist-capote.

We lost the moon an hour ago:
We saw it dip, and downward go,
Whilst all the west was still a-glow.

But in those blue depths, moon-forsaken,
A planet pale its place hath taken;
And one by one the stars awaken.

II.

With noiseless paddle-dip we glide
Along the bay's dark-fringèd side,
Then out, amidst the waters wide!

With us there floated here last night

Wild threatening waves with foam-caps white,

But these have now spent all their might.

We knew they would not injure us,
Those tossing waves, so boisterous-
And where is now their fret and fuss

Only a ripple wrinkleth now
The summer lake-and plashes low
Against the boat, in fitful flow.

III.

Still callest thou, thou Whip-poor-Will!
When dropped the moon behind the hill
I heard thee, and I hear thee still.

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NIGHT ON LAKE COUCHICHING.

But mingled with thy plaintive cry
A wilder sound comes ebbing by,
Out of the pine-woods, solemnly.

It dies--and then from tree to tree
Deep breathings pass, and seem to be
The murmurs of mighty sea.

But hark! The owl's cry comes anew-
Piercing the dark pine-forest through,
With its long too-hoo, too-hoo!

IV.

Swifter and swifter, on we go;

For though the breeze but feigns to blow.
Its kisses greet us, soft and low.

But with us now, and side by side,
Striving awhile for place of pride,
A silent, dusky form doth glide.

Though swift and light the birch-canoe,
It cannot take the palm from you,
My little boat, so trim and true.

Indian! where away to-night?"
Homewards I wend: yon beacon light
Shines out for me-good night!"

V.

Shorewards again we glide-and go
Where the sumach shadows flow
Across the purple calm below.

"Good night

There, hidden voices all night long
Keep up, the sedgy creeks among
The murmurs of their summer song-

A song most soft and musical-
Like the dulled voice of distant fall,
Or winds that through the pine-tops call.

And where the dusky swamp lies dreaming,
Shines the fire-flies' fitful gleaming-
Through the cedars-dancing, streaming!

VI.

Who hides in yonder dusky tree,
Where but the bats awake should be,
And with its whistling mocketh me?

Such quaint, quick pipings--two-and-two:
Half a whistle, half a coo:

Ah, Master Tree Frog, gare-à-vous :

The owls on noiseless wing gloom by
Beware, lest one a glimpse espy
(f your grey coat and jewelled eye-

And so, good night !-We glide anew
Where shows the lake its softest blue,
With mirrored star-points sparkling through.

VII.

The lights upon the distant shore

That shone so redly, shine no more:
The Indian-fisher's toil is o'er.

And deepening in the eastern skies,
Where up and up new stars arise,
A pearly lustre softly lies.

Thy witchery waneth. Fare-thee-well,
O Summer Night! Thy tender spell
Within my dreams long time will dwell-

And paint, in many a distant scene,

The lake-the shore-the forest green,

"The marks of that which once hath been." -CHAPMAN.

ROLLA'S ADDRESS TO THE PERUVIANS.

My brave associates-partners of my toil, my feelings, and my fame!-Can Rolla's words add vigor to the virtuous energies which inspire your hearts ?-No! you have judged as I have, the foulness of the crafty plea by which these bold invaders would delude you. Your generous spirit has compared, as mine has, the motives which, in a war like this, can animate their minds and ours. They, by a strange frenzy driven, fight for power, for plunder, and extended rule-we, for our country, our altars, and our homes. They follow an adventurer whom hey fear, and obey a power which they hate-we serve a monarch whom we love, a God whom we adore. Whene'er they move in anger, desolation tracks their progress! whene'er they pause in amity, affliction mourns their friendship. They boast they come but to improve our state, enlarge our thoughts, and free us from the yoke of error !-Yes; they will give enlightened freedom to our minds; who are themselves the slaves of passion, avarice, and pride!-They offer us their protection yes, such protection as vultures give to lambscovering and devouring them. They call upon us to barter all

:

answer this:-The throne we honor is the people the laws we reverence are our brave fathers' legacy we follow teaches us to live in bonds of charity wi kind, and die with hopes of bliss beyond the grave. invaders this, and tell them too, we seek no change of all such change as they would bring us.

-SH

The trees stretch their shadows before me,

But no shadow mars

For the blessed stars

Are tenderly beaming o'er me.

On the dark, and rapid stream of life

Are shadows of grief and sin,

But we reck not the gloom of the outer strife,
If no shadows obscure within;

Though darkness may lower,

It is reft of power

Over hearts that are tempered with love,-
There is fadeless light,

For life's darkest night,

With the bountiful Father above.

In holy thought, from this blissful hour-
While free from earth's darkling strife-

I may garner joy, and be nerved with power
To fight on in the battles of life.

-E. H. DEWART.

LOUIS XI. AND CHARLES, DUKE OF BURGUNDY

(The scene is laid in the Duke's banqueting hall, at Peronne.) A BRIEF interval intervened, during which the Duke remained looking eagerly to the door, as if in a transport of impatience, whilst the guests sat with their eyes bent on the table, as if to conceal their curiosity and anxiety. Louis alone, maintaining perfect composure, continued his conversation alternately with the grand carver and with the jester.

At length Crevecœur entered, and was presently saluted by the hurried question of his master, "What news from Liege and Brabant, Sir Count?—the report of your arrival has chased mirth from our table-we hope your actual presence will bring it back to us."

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My liege and master," answered the Count, in a firm, but melancholy tone, "the news which I bring you are fitter for the council board than the feasting table."

"Out with them, man, whatever be your tidings!" said the Duke; "but I can guess them-the Liegois are again in mutiny."

They are, my lord," said Crevecoeur, very gravely.

"Look there, man," said the Duke, "I have hit at once on what you have been so much afraid to mention to me-the harebrained burghers are again in arms. It could not be in better time, for we may at present have the advice of our own