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surmises of the desperate attempts for which | Are there not hearts enough that wait thy coming, this was a provision, with all the whispered That long to rest from agony and strife ? curiosity that mention of Kidd's buried treasure Are there not evening skies enough to shadow, was wont of old to arouse. Perhaps what

That thou should darken thus my morn of life ? France and her kings have abated in length of Yet will I meet thee proudly, Conqueror ! reach they have gained in tenacity of grasp. I'll greet thee as a monarch should be greeted.

My royal bridegroom, though no willing bride, Students of political economy in the future

Unchanged in beauty, and unbowed in pride! may determine.

Let others pale and tremble at thy coming,

Cowering low upon their fever bed,
THE DYING ACTRESS.

I meet thee proudly; I am worth thy taking;

Not e'en before thee have my proud charms fled. BY HELEN HAMILTON.

Yet is it hard to leave Life's rarest treasures,

For Heaven has nought that I can love so well.

Alas! my heaven upon earth was given The sunlight through the purple curtains streaming,

Death comes, is here : Fame, Beauty, Life-fareFlushes the room with splendour-low she lies,

well !"
Who yester-even in her mimic woe
Drew tears of sympathy from manhood's eyes.

Loose from its jewels swept her raven hair,
In thund'rous measure rolled the wild applause,
And rarest flowers round her footsteps fell —

Veiling her form with midnight; slow there came

A pale dread shadow over brow and cheek, Flowers but given her last couch to strew,

Aud Pride extinguished in her eye his flame.
Applause that rose for her a fitting knell,

Slow sank her regal form npon the earth;
For she is dying. Her quick-throbbing heart
Telleth how fast Life's ebbing tide is flowing,

The golden sunlight faded into gloom ;
Though leaving every radiant charm unharmed,

Yet ere Night's pinions darkened earth and sky,

There was nought living in that gorgeous room. Like one forgetting rarest gems in going. “My doom is spoken,” so the deep-breathed words

Dropped from her anguished lips, “and I must die !
I shall no more with Genius' mighty power

Ą SONG.
Wake the wild thrilling of man's ecstasy.
My life is counted not by days, but hours-

Six ripe apples grew on a tree
Its sunny hopes, its rosy dreams are o'er ;

When a little boy came with his bow and his arrows, They say that quiet may my hours prolong;

'Midst the cooing of doves and the chirping of sparrows, Too soon will rest be mine for evermore.

With his bow and his arrows he shot down three: And now for action. Break not yet, О heart !

O the sweet summer-sunshine is bright on the lea For ere my name is stricken from Life's page

And sparkles along the meadow. I would enact a royal part once more

Death my spectator, and the world my stage ! Bring me the robes I triumphed in last night,

Three ripe apples grew red on a tree, And clasp their folds with pearls pale and rare;

But the little birds came with chirrup and call; Twine yonder chain of gems about my neck;

With chirrup and call they ate them up allLet diamonds star the midnig of my hair.

Red apples for them, withered leaflets for me,
Fling wide the casement. Let the sunlight gild

And my heart lies dead in the shadow.
This gorgeous room with floods of gleaming gold;
Let the soft breath of rosy summer come
To whisper of the sweets her arms infold.

TAE Parisian BIRD-CHARMER. — Paris, setting Scatter bright flowers till the air grows faint

the fashion of the world, is at the same time the With the rich perfume of their gentle breath ;

paradise of oddities. The man who most of all Let nought within this bright apartment, save

excites the wonder and delight of the habitues of the Its inmate, tell that here abideth Death!"

Champs Elysees, is a queer old gentleman, in poor,

but clean snuff-coloured dress, who every now and So spake the lady. Her commands obeyed,

then comes to see and feed the birds. No sooner She stood up in the sunlight-flooded room,

does this thin, silent old man make his appearance, Wealth all around-youth, beauty on her brow- than a general twitter and scream of delight is heard

Thus garlanded with rich gifts for the tomb. amidst the trees of the Tuileries, and the birds swarm Slowly, with jewelled hands, she swept apart

about his head, sit on his shoulders and hands, while The ebon splendours of her silken hair,

others describe a thousand revolutions around his While from her lips, as from a breaking lute,

head. “Who is that P" I asked of one of the group Came the low thrilling accents of despair.

of people who stood by. “I never heard his name; Farewell, farewell to ye, 0 Youth and Beauty ! he is the bird-charmer.' I was almost ready to be. Ye light companions of my sunny years,

lieve that he was a charmer, for he threw them a very Not from me ye depart, but I must leave ye,

few crumbs—a supply quite inadequate, apart from And leave the glorious art I held so dear;

past and future favours, to produce the curious scene. Must leave Fame's proudest laurels all ungathered, I tried hard to discover the name of this man, but

Leave Love with all his sweetest lays unsung. the Parisians are not curious about the names of their Alas ! why must my funeral knell be tolled

characters; they assign them descriptive names which Ere yet the noontide chime of life is rung?

suffice. For instance: “ The man without a hat;" So young, so beautiful, so loved—to die!

“The Persian ; " "The bouquet-girl," and so on. The Couldst thou not gather fading blooms, O Death ? old “bird-charmer” spoke to no human being, kissed Why must the blossom of my young life wither his hand to the birds, and quietly went his way towards Beneath the chilling of thine icy breath?

the river,

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“Deduci superbo

She had given us a real gift; no criticism could Non humilis mulier triumpho."

take it away. The hands might be sinful, but

the box they broke contained an exceeding preThese words are applied by Horace to the cious ointment. great Cleopatra, whose heroic end ho celebrates,

Passing from ideal to real life, as all pass,

who even while exulting in her overthrow. We apply live on, we shook our heads over the books, them to another woman of royal soul, who, capi- sighed,' and ceased to read them. Grown tulating with the world of her contemporaries, mothers ourselves, we quietly removed them as does not allow them the ignoble triumph of plun- far as possible from the young hands about us, dering the secrets of her life. They have long and would rather have deprived them of the clamoured at its gates, long shouted at its win- noble French language altogether than have dows in defamation andin glorification. Ready allowed it to bring them such lessons as Jaques now for their admission, she lets the eager and Valentine. public in; but what they were most intent to These memoirs begin at the earliest possible find still eludes them. In the “ Historie de ma period, including the lives of her parents and Vie” are the records of her parentagę, birth, grandparents. The latter were illustrious on and education. Here are detailed the sublile in one side and obscure on the other. She tells us fluences that aided or bindered Nature in one of that, by her paternal grandmother, she was allied her most lavish pieces of work; here are study, to the kings of France, and, by her maternal religion, marriage, maternity, autborship, friend- grandfather, to the lowest of the people. The ship, travel, litigation; but the passionate loving grandmother in question was the natural daughwoman, and whom she loved, are not here. To ter of the famous Maréchal de Saxe, recogthe world's triumph they belong not, and we nized and educated, but finally left with slender honour the decency and self-respect which con- resources, and married to M. Dupin de FranBign them to oblivion. Nor shall we endeavour cueil, an accomplished person of good family to list the veil which she has thus thrown over and fortune, greatly her senior. To him she the most intimate portion of her private life. bore one son, named Maurice, after the great We will not ask any Cronique Scandaleuse, of soldier. As might have been expected, her widowwhich there are plenty, to supply any hiatus in hood was early and long, for her aged partner the dramatis persone of her life. We shall soon dropped from her side, beloved and retake her as she gives herself to us, bringing out gretted. George tells that her grandmother was the full significance of what she says, but not wont to insist that an old man can be more interpolating with it what other people say. agreeable in the marital relation than a young With all this, we are not obliged to shut our one, and that M. Dupin de Francueil

, elegant, eges to the true significance of what she tells us, accomplished, and devoted to her happiness, had or to assume that in the account she gives us of in his life left nothing for her imagination to herself there is necessarily less self-deception desire or her heart to regret. than self-judgment generally exhibits. If she As this lady is one of the heroines of the mistakes the selfish for the heroic, exalts a gra- "Histoire de ina Vie,” we cannot do it justice tification into a duty, and preaches to her sex without lingering a little over her portraiture. as from the stand-point of a morality superior to She is described as tall, fair, and of a Saxon theirs, we shall set it down as it seems to us. type of beauty. Her manners would seem to But, for the sake of manhood, as well as of have been de haute école, and her culture was womanhood, we would not that any mean or on a large and noble scale. Austere in her malignant hand should endeavour to show morals, her faith was the deistic philosophy of where she failed, and how.

the anti-revolutionary period; but, like other Was she not to all of us, in our early years, a people of noble mind, instead of making doubt a name of doubt, dread and enchantment? Did pretext for licence, she brought up virtue to not all of us feel, in our young admiration for justify the latitude of her creed, that the solid her, something of the world's great struggle be- results of conscience should entitle her to the tween conservative discipline and revolutionary free interpretation of doctrine. She was chaste, inspiration? We knew our parents would not benovelent, and sincere. Her mother had been have us read her, if they knew. We knew they a singer of merit and celebrity, and she, the were right. Yet we read her at stolen hours, daughter, had both inherited her musical talent, with waning and still entreated light; and as and had received one of those thorough musical we read, in a dreary wintry room, with a flicker- educations which alone make the possession of ing candle warning us of late hours and confi- the art a pleasure and resource. ding expectations, the atmosphere grew warm The first volume of these memoirs gives inand glorious around us—a true human com- teresting notice of the friendships which surpany, a living sympathy crept near us—the very rounded Madame Dupin during her married life. world seemed not the same world after as before. These embraced variouş çelebrities, historical

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and literary. Her husband was the congenial annual income-a sum which the Revolution, at friend of the best minds of the day, and was a later day, greatly reduced. Till its outbreak able, among other things, to procure her the Madame Dupin' lived in peace and affilgence, difficult pleasure of an interview with Jean though not on the grand scale of earlier daysJacques Rousseau, then living near her in great devoting herself chiefly to the care of her son, spleen and retirement. We cannot do better Maurice, in which latter task she secured the than to give the relation of tbis in her own services of a young abbé, who afterwards pruwords, as preserved by her grand-daughter. dently became the Citizen Deschartres, and who It is bighly characteristic of the parties and of continued in the service of the family during the the times.

rest of a tolerably long life. This personage “Before I had seen Rousseau I had read the plays too important a part in the memoirs to be Nouvelle Héloïse' in one breath, and at the passed over without special notice. He conlast pages I found myself so overcome that Itinued to be the faithful teacher and companion wept and sobbed. My husband gently rallied of Maurice, until the exigencies of military life me for this ; but that day I could only cry from rensoved the latter from his control. He was mornicg till evening. During this, M. de Fran- also the man of business of Madame Dupin, and, cueil, with the address and the grace which he at a later day, the preceptor of George herself

, knew how to put into everything, ran to find who, with childish petulance, bestowed on him Jean Jacques. I do not know how he managed the sobriquet of grand homme, in consequence, it, but be carried him off-he brought him with she tells us, of bis omnicompétence and his air out having communicated to me his intention. of importance. “My grandmother," she says,

“I, unconscious of all this, was not hastening had no presentiment, that, in confiding to him my toilet. I was with Madame d'Esparbés de the education of her son, she was securing Lússan, my friend, the most amiable woman in the tyrant, the saviour, and the friend of her the world, and the prettiest, though she squinted whole remaining life.” We would gladly give a little, and was slightly deforined. M. de here in full George's portrait of her lutor; but Francueil had come several times to see if I was if we should stop to sketch all the admirable ready. I did not observe any marks of haste photography of this work, our resumé would be. in my husband, and did not hurry myself, never come a volume. We can only borrow a trait or suspecting that he was there, the sublime Bear, two, and pass on to the consideration of other in my parlour. He had entered, looking partly matters. foolish and partly cross, and had seated himself "He had been good-looking; but I am sure in a corner, showing no other impatience than that no one, even in his best days, could have that about dinner, in order to get away very looked at him without laughing, so clearly was soon.

the word pedant written in all the lines of his "Finally, my toilet finished, and my eyes face and in every movement of his person. To still red and swollen, I go to the parlour. I see be complete, he should have been ignorant, a little man, ill-dressed and scowling, who rose gourmand, and cowardly. But, far from this, clumsily, and chewed out some confused words. he was very learned, temperate, and madly I look, and I guess who it is—I try to speak -I courageous. He had all the great qualities of burst into tears. Francueil tries to put us in the soul, joined to an insufferable disposition, tune by a pleasantry, and bursts into tears, and a seli satisfaction which amounted almost We could not say anything to each other. to delirium. But what devotion, what zeal, Rousseau pressed my hand without addressing what a tender and generous soul!" me a single word. We tried to dine, to cut In the intervals of his necessary occupations short all these sobs. But I could eat nothing. he studied medicine and surgery, in the latter of M. de Francueil could not be witty that day, and which he attained considerable skill. In the Rousseau escaped directly on leaving the table, many subsequent years of his country life he without having said a word-displeased, perhaps, made these accomplishments very useful to the with having found a new contradiction to his village-folk. No stress of weather or unseasonclaim of being the most persecuted, the most ableness of hours could detain him from attendhated, and the most calumniated of men." ing the sick when summoned; but being obliged,

The simplicity of this narration justifies its as George says, to be ridiculous as well as quotation here, as illustrative of the taste and sublime in all things, he was wont to beat his manners that prevailed a hundred years ago. patients when they were bold enough to offer The lively emotion provoked by the “ Nouvelle him money for their cure, and even inade missile Héloïse” is scarcely more foreign to our ideas weapons of the poultry and game which they and experience than the triangular fit of weep. brought him in acknowledgment of his services, ing in the parlour, and the dinner, silent through assailing them with blows and harder words till excess of feeling that followed it.

they fled, amused or angry. Maurice, his first M. Dupin de Francueil lived with great but pupil, was a delicate and indolent child, and generous extravagance, and, as his widow showed little robustness of character till his early averred, “ruined himself in the most amiable manhood, when the necessity of a career forced manner in the world.” He died, leaving large him into the ranks of the great army. estates in great confusion, from which his widow The first threatenings of the Revolution found and young son were compelled to "accept the ia Madame Dupin an unalarmed observer. As poverty" of seventy-five thousand livres as an a disciple of Voltaire and Rousseau, she could

not but detest the abuses of the Court; she long; after some months of detention she was shared, too, the general personal alienation of allowed to rejoin her son at Passy, and the whole the aristocracy from the “Gerinan woman,” as family-party speedily removed to Nohant, in the they called Marie Antoinette. She admired, in heart of Berry, which henceforth figures as the turn, the probity of Necker and the genius of homestead in the pages of these volumes. But Mirabeau; but the current of disorder finally Maurice is soon obliged to adopt a profession. found its way to her, and swept away her house. His mother's revenues have been considerably hold peace among the innumerable wrecks that diminished by the political troubles. He feels marked its passage. Implicated as the depository in himself the power, the determination to carve of some papers supposed to be of a treasonable out a career for himself, and gallantly enters, as character, she was arrested and imprisoned in a common soldier, the armies of the RepublicParis, her son and Deschartres being Napoleon Bonaparte being First Consul. Al. officially separated from her and detained though he soon saw service, his promotion at Passy. The imprisonment lasted some months seems to have been slow and difficult. He was and its tedium was beguiled by the most fervent i full of military ardour, and laborious in acquiring love-letters between the boy of sixteen and his the science of his profession; but there were mother. The sorrow of this separation, George already so many candidates for every smallest says, metamorphosed the sickly, spoiled child distinction, and Maurice was no courtier, to help into a fervent and resolute youth, whose subse-out bis deserts with a little fortunate flattery. quent career was full of courage and self-denial. He complains in his letters that the tide has Of the Revolution she writes :

already turned, and that even in the army “In my eyes, it is one of the phases of evan- diplomacy fares better than real bravery. Stili, gelical life: a tumultuous, bloody life, terrible he soon rose from the ranks, served with honour at certain moments, full of convulsions, of deli- on the Rhine and in Italy, and became finally rium, and of sobbing. It is the violent contest attached to the personnel of Murat, during the of the principle of equality preached by Jesus, occupation of the Peninsula. His title of grandand passing, now like a radiant light, now like son of the Maréchal de Saxe was sometimes a burning torch, from hand to hand, to our own helpful, sometimes hurtful. In the eyes of his days, against the old pagan world, which is not comrades it won him honour; but Napoleon, destroyed, which will not be for a long time yet, hearing his high descent urged as a claim to in spite of the mission of Christ, and so many consideration, is said to have replied, brusquely: other divine missions, in spite of so many I don't want any of those people.” In his stakes, scaffolds and martyrs. What is there, letters to his mother he recounts his then, to astonish us in the vertigo which seized adventures, military and amorous,

with all minds at the period of the inextricable mélée frankness, but without boasting ; but his confiinto which France precipitated herself in '93 ? dences soon became very partial, and before she When everything went by retaliation, when knows it the poor mother has a dangerous rival. everyone became, by deed orintention, victim and we will let him give his own account of the executionerin turn, and when between theoppres-origin of this new relation. sion endured and the oppression exercised there “You know that I was in love in Milan. You was no time for reflection

liberty and choice, guessed it, because I did not tell you of it. At how could passion have abstracted itself in times I fancied myself beloved in return, and action, or impartiality have dictated quiet judg- then I saw, or fancied I saw, that I was not. I ments ? Passionate souls were judged by wished to divert my thoughts ; I went away, others as passionate, and the human race cried desiring to think no more of it. out as in the time of the ancient Hussites—This “This charming woman is here, and we have is a time of mourning, of zeal, and of fury. hardly spoken to each other. We scarcely ex

The tone of our author concerning this and changed a look. I felt a little vexation, though subsequent revolutions which have come within that is scarcely in my nature. She was proud her own observation is throughout temperate, towards me, although her heart is tender and hopeful, and charitable. The noblest side of passionate. This morning, during breakfast, womanhood comes out in this; and, however we heard distant cannon. The general ordered her fiery youth might have counselled, in the me to mount at once, and go to see what it was. pages now under consideration she appears as I rise, take the staircase in two bounds, and run the apologist of humankind-the world's peace to the stable. At the very moment of mountmaker.

ing my horse I turned and saw behind me this George loves to linger over the details of her dear woman, blushing, embarrassed, and castfather's early life. They are, indeed, all she ing op me a lingering look expressive of fear, possesses of him, as she was still in early child- interest, love." hood when he died. So much and such charm. This fatal look, as the experienced will readily ing narrations has she to give us of his military conceive, did the business. The young soldier life , his musical ability, his

courage and disinter- dreamed only of a love affair like twenty others estedness, that she herself does not manage to which had made the pastime of his oft-changing get born until nearly the end of the third volume, quarters; but this dear woman, Sophie Vic, and that through a series of concatenations toire Antoinette Delaborde, daughter of an old which we must hastily review.

bird-fancier, was destined to become his wife, The imprisonment of Madame Dupin was not and mother of his daughter, Aurore Dupin,

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whom the world knows as George Sand. His into her grandmother's presence, and seated in mother soon grew alarmed, as various symp- her lap as the child of a stranger, the family toms of an enduring and carefully concealed traits were suddenly recognized, and the little attachment became evident to her keen obser- one (eight months old) effected a change of vation. In the years that followed she left no heart which neither lawyer uor priest could have means untried to break off this dangerous con- induced. St. Childhood is fortunately always tection ; her remonstrances were by turns in the world, working ever these miracles of tender and violent; her reasonings, no doubt, reconciliation. in great part just; but Maurice defended the George speaks with admirable candour of the woman of his choice from all accusations, from inevitable relations between these two women. every annoyance, on the ground of her devoted She does full justice to the legitimacy of the and 'honourable attachment to him. After four grandmother's objections to the marriage and years of continued trouble and irresolution, in her fears for its result, which were founded which, George tells us, he had again and again much more on moral than on social consideramade the endeavour to sacrifice Victoire to his tions. At the same time she nobly asserts her mother's happiness, and after the birth of mother's claim to rehabilitation through a several children, who soon ceased to live, he passionate and disinterested attachment, a wedded her by civil right. The birth of his faithful devotion to the duties of marriage and daughter soon followed. “And thus it was,” maternity, and a widowhood whose sorrow says George, “that I was born legitimate.” ended only with her life. She says, “The

“My mother had on a pretty pink dress that doctrine of redemption is the symbol of the day, and my father was playing some contre- principle of expiation and of rebabilitation;" danses on his faithful Cremona (I have it yet, but she adds, '“Our society recognizes this that old instrument by the sound of which i principle in religious theory, but not in practice ; first saw the light). My mother left the dance it is too great, too beautiful for us." She says and passed into her own room. As she went further, “There still exists a pretended aristocout very quietly, the dance continued. At the racy of virtue, which, proud of its privileges, last chassez all round, my Aunt Lucy went into does not admit that the errors of youth are my mother's room, and immediately cried :

susceptible of atonement. This condemnation “ Come, come here, Maurice! You have a is the more absurd because, for what is called daughter!"

the World, it is hypocritical. It is not only “She shall be named Aurore, for my poor women of really irreproachable life, nor matrons mother, who is not here to bless her, but who truly respected, who are called upon to decide will bless her one day,” said my father, receiv- upon the merits of their misled sisters. It is ing me in his arms.

not the company of the excellent of the earth “She was born in music and in pink,” said who make opinion. That is all a dream. The my aunt. “She will be happy."

great majority of women of the world is really Not eminent, perhaps

, has been the realiza- a majority of lost women.” We must under: tion of this augury.

stand these remarks as applying to French The young couple were 80 poor at this society, in respect even of which we are not moment of their marriage, that a slender thread inclined to admit their truth. Yet there is a of gold was forced to serve for the nuptial ring; certain justice in the inference that women are and it was not until some days later that they often most severely condemned by those who were able to expend six francs in the purchase are no better than themselves; and this insin. of that indispensable ornament. The act once cerity of uncharity is far more to be dreaded consummated, Maurice gave himself up to some than the over-zeal of virtuous hearts, wbich hours of bitter suffering, made inevitable by oftenest helps and heals where it has been what he considered a grave act of disobedience obliged to wound. against the best of mothers. His conscience, At the risk of unduly multiplying quotations however, on the whole, justified him. He had we will quote here what George says of her obeyed the Scripture precept, forsaking the old mother in this the power of her days. At a for the enevitable new relation, and surrounding later day the ill-regulated character suffered and her who was really his wife with the immunities made others suffer with its own discords, which of civil recognition.

education and moral training had done nothing The marriage was concealed for some months to reconcile. The manly support, too, of the from his mother, who, at a subsequent period, nobler nature was wanting, and the best half left no stone unturned to prove its nullity of her future and its possibilities was buried in The religious ceremony, which Catholicism con- the untimely grave of her husband. siders as the indissoluble tie, had not yet been what she was when she was at her best : performed, and Madame Dupin hoped to prove “My mother was not one of those bold some informality in the civil rite. In this, how- intrigantes whose secret passion is to struggle ever, she did not succeed, and, after long resis- against the prejudices of their time, and who tance, and ill-concealed 'displeasure, she .con- think to make themselves greater by clinging, cluded by acknowledging the unwelcome alliance. at the risk of a thousand affronts

, to the false It was the little Aurore herself whose uncon- greatness of the world. She was far too proud scious hand severed the Gordian knot of the to expose herself even to coldness. Her atti

: family difficulties, Introduced by a statagem tude was so reseryed that she passed for a timid

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