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• Were all in Malwood Vale so bleat?
Were such light hearts, and tranquil rest,
As filled that night the peasant's cot,
or all in Malwood Vale the lot?
No-there was one, for whom the Sun

Went down in clouds and sadness,
For whom no heart, when day was done,

Looked out with smiles of gladness :
For whose return no eye was gazing,
For whom no cheerful hearth was blazing,
Whose dreary and forsaken home
Was dark and silent as the tomb."

This desolate and mourntul being is the venerable Pastor of the Valley, whose only child, Ellen, the heroine of the tale, has forsaken him:

“ She whose young life's first clouded ray
Beamed on a dark and troubled day,
The guiltless messenger of death,
Bequeathed with love's expiring breath-
She who in smiling infancy
Had clasped his neck, and climbed his knee,
Whose first imperfect words, dispelling
The silence of his widowed dwelling,
Had wakened in his heart the tone,
That vibrates to that sound alone.
Oh, moment of parental pride!
When first those lisping accents tried

purest hymn which earth can raise,
An infant's, to its Maker's praise."
We pass

over the details of Ellen's infancy and early youth, though beautifully touched, and select the following passage, descriptive of the blameless enjoyments of domestic life :

“ When rain without is pelting fast,
And bitter blows the Northern blast,
When puss i'th' chimney nook is dozing,
Calmly her humdrum song composing;
When Carlo on the hearth is dreaming

Poured out its speechless tribute there,
In praise no language could declare.
“ If there is happiness below,

In such a home she's shrined -
The human heart can never know

Enjoyment more refined,
Than where that sacred band is twined

Of filial and parental ties,
That tender union, all combined

Of Nature's holiest sympathies !
" Tis friendship in its loveliest dress!
Tis love's most perfect tenderness !
All other friendships may decay,
All other loves may fade away;
Our faults or follies may disgust
The friend in whom we fondly trust,
Or selfish views may intervene,
From us his changeful heart to wean;
Or we ourselves may change, and find
Faults to which once our love was blind;
Or ling'ring pain, or pining care,
At length may weary friendship's ear,
And love may gaze with altered eye,
When beauty's young attractions fly.
But in that union, firm and mild,
That binds a parent to his child,
Such jarring chords can never sound,
Such painful doubts can never wound.
Tho' health and fortune may decay,
And fleeting beauty pass away —
Tho' grief may blight, or sin deface
Our youth's fair promise, or disgrace
May brand with infamy and shame,
And public scorn, our blasted name-
Tho' all the fell contagion fly
Of guilt, reproach, and misery;
When love rejects, and friends forsake,
A parent, tho' his heart may break,
From that fond heart will never tear
The child whose last retreat is there !
Oh union, purest, most sublime !
The grave itself, but for a time

Thy holy bond shall sever;
His hand who rent, shall bind again
With firmer links thy broken chain,

To be complete for ever!"

Disturbed perchance by ruthless thought Orprowling rat, pursued and caught; Or, if a gust of rushing wind Roars, in the chimney's shaft confin'd, He starts — th' imagined danger eyes With ears erect in keen surprise; Half rises, from the sound to fly; But as its fitful murmurs die, Lulled as they lull, his terrors cease, And down he sinks, outstretched in peace. " When by that hearth, so brightly blazing, The father on his child was gazing, While she, the wintry hours to cheer With native woodnotes charmed his ear, (Notes to that partial ear excelling The loftiest strains from science swelling,) Or light of heart, in youthful glee With converse innocent and free Beguiled the time, or turned the page Of holy writ, or learning sage, Or caught, inspired, the glowing theme Of lofty bard, or minstrel's dream, Till in her eyes a kindling fire Sparkled reflected from the lyre Oh ! then, whilst gazing on her face, He watched each wildly varying grace, Till silent rapture's tender tear Dimmed on his eyes, a sight so dear; With grateful love, his heart o'erflowing, To Heav'n with pious transport glowing,

Nothing can be more happily described than the effect upon the dog of the roaring gust in the chimney. It is a picture which must bring back the reality to every reader's mind; and of which it may most justly be said, that it has oft been seen, though ne'er so well expressed.' One rough and stormy night, when

" The sun had set
In many a wintry cloud,

And round their dwelling, cold and wet,
The wintry wind blew loud,

a sound
Of voices in the blast half drowned,
Approached; and, nearer as it came,
Called loudly on Fitzarthur's name;
Distress and haste were in the tones
Of that loud cry; and feeble moans,
As the old Pastor turned to hear,
Struck indirectly on his ear,
Confus'dly mingled with the wail
That sobbed in the subsiding gale.
And soon th' unclosing door displayed
A rugged group, whose vent'rous trade

Daily with boat and net was plied

nothing delays the marriage but the neOn the near ocean's foaming tide, One in their sinewy arms they bore,

cessity of waiting till, by suing for it in Whose eyes seemed closed to wake no more,

person, the lover is able to obtain the But for his low and feeble plaint,

consent of a That murmured faintly, and more faint.”

“ Grasping uncle; cold and proud," The stranger thus committed to the on whom, as he asserts, “ his fortunes hospitality of the good Pastor, has been hang;” but, ere long, he acknowledges wrecked that night on the adjacent to Ellen a thousand doubts and fears coast. He only, of all the “ hapless respecting this meditated application to band” sailing in the “ gallant vessel,” his unfeeling kinsman ; and succeeds in has escaped destruction :

persuading her, at least, that it would be “ Close round a floating spar he clung,

solly to defer a union which might be Till the returning billows flung

privately solemnized, and kept concealed Their living burthen on the beach.”

" Till happier times should clear away Some friendly fishermen were near, who The clouds of caution and delay, rescued him from the surge,

And to the world he might proclaim

The sharer of his heart and name." * Ere the next fast retreating wave Should sweep him to a wat'ry grave; "

Fitzarthur, however, is not so easily to and, after “ short debate,” agreed to be influenced. He rejects with firmconvey him to their Pastor's,

ness the proposal of a clandestine mar# Where entrance and relief was free

riage; and, though with reluctance and To every child of misery.”

pain, bids the young man depart, and Here, by “ days and weeks of tender prohibits his re-appearance till the obcare," he was restored to health and stacle is removed which opposes itself strength. He had been a soldier, one

to the public disposal of his hand. The

venerable monitor is obeyed ; the long" Whose harassed frame

cherished guest quits Malwood; and From foreign fields of conflict came.”

Ellen, .sad, yet submissive clinging to The consequence, as might be antici

hope, and lingering in every spot,

now pated, of De Morton's introduction at dearer by remembrance made,” in which the parsonage, is his falling in love with she had heretofore wandered with her Ellen, and Ellen with him. He lingers lover, sees the winter elapsenin around her throughout the whole en

" When overhead, the lark no more suing spring and summer; gains upon

Was heard her summer song to pour, the good Pastor's heart,

But in her stead, the red-breast nigh, “ Adapting to the spirit there,

Hopped noiseless, with enquiring eye," Words, looks, and taste with cautious care. without forfeiting her dependence on Companion of the old man's walk,

his honour. Or studious hours, in serious talk, Oft would he pour, with seeming truth,

The return of summer, however, The feelings of ingenuous youth;

brings with it the keenest apprehensions, Oft would he speak, with seeming awe, caused by De Morton's protracted and Of truths divine, and moral law,

unexplained delay. Poor Ellen's health With such a sense of heav'nly grace,

becomes affected; her spirits and actiAs beamed reflected in his face; Till tears of wonder and delight

vity wholly give way, except when in Obscured the good old Pastor's sight,

the presence of her father, to avert from And then he thought, • Heaven's will be done! whose observation the full amount of Yet, were I bless'd with such a sonl'

her anguish she exerts herself with a “ His simple and ingenuous mind,

sweetness, which, at so trying a season, Deep read in books, in taste refin'd,

renders her peculiarly interesting. The Had studied ill that painful art,

beautiful eulogium, which follows, of Discernment of the human heart;

the female character when adorned with Had never its dark lab'rinths traced,

its appropriate virtues, “ Long-suffering, By worldly intercourse debased; That baneful influence, coldly stealing

mild, meek tenderness," we have not O’er every warm and noble feeling,

space to insert entire : but we cannot That with torpedo touch benumbs

deny ourselves the pleasure of presenting Where'er its withering contact comes.

to our readers its admirable concluding Cast in a purer mould had been

lines : Those hearts the rustic sire had seen : Such was his own, and by its light

“ Behold her tears in secret flow, He deemed to read De Morton's right,

While by the careless world is seen And saw, unchecked, the lover's art,

An aspect cheerful and serene. That sought and won his Ellen's heart.”

To words unkind, and taunting eye,

Mark ye, her soothing, meek reply: Giving, therefore, his sanction to the

The gentle look, whose timid ray mutual attachment of the young pair, , Imploring soft, turns wrath away ;

For those she loves, how fond her cares!

“ De Morton's last farewell it bore, From those she loves, how much she bears ! The veil was rent to the dream was o'er Not wrongs, unkindness, scorn, or hate,

De Morton would return no more! Her heart can change, or alienate :

A dream, indeed I a mockery, Hers is “ the love that knows no chill,”

All he had said, and seemed to be Thro' want and woe, surviving still,

A dream, indeed! his very name That ev'ry ill of life partakes,

No wedded right had she to claim Still cleaving, when the world forsakes.

Assumed t'elude the holy rite For guilty man, to Heaven she pleads;

That he had seemed with hers to plight. Repentant man, to Heaven she leads;

“'Twas vain,' he said, ' with vows to bind Spies out the moment, in his heart

The roving heart, the free-born mind;"
To waken virtue's latent seed,

And then he spoke of love," that flies.
And fosters it with patient art,

Far off at sight of human ties;'
Till flowers of sweet perfume succeed.”.

All arts, all hope, all effort vain

(Once fied) to Inre him back again; De Morton, too soon, alas! for the

And when 'twas so, 'twas best to part, weal of the guileless inhabitants of the

To seek some more congenial heart; valley, does return : but not with the Hers was too pure, loo saintly cold, honourable openness of an authorized To match with one of mortal mould suitor ; he comes with the stealthy cau

So earthly, so unlike her own

And she might seek, when he was gone, tion of a premeditated betrayer; sur..

The home her peevish fancy yet prises Ellen at night-fall in the garden; Haunted with lingering fond regret : and unmoved by the innocent persua Question of him would be in vain, expl sion she is under, and fondly expresses,

She ne'er would see his face again.” that his long absence had been involun

A dreadful species of calm, though tary, and had cost him as much sorrow as she had herself endured—he delibe- intense despair, assails her on the perasal rately tells her, that she must take flight of this infamous scroll

, from which it is with him that very hour, or resign her- weeks, nay months, ere she recovers. self to parting from him for ever!-His Her slender store of money begins to uncle, he avers, has been deaf to his fail; her health declines; she remains most impassioned pleadings ;-her fa- utterly bereft of friends, of reputation, ther, she knows, will, from henceforth, of means to exist, except such as she be inexorably adverse to his suit;-they obtains by, mechanically plying "the have no alternative : they must either needle's skill," to provide a scanty susbecome fugitives together, or separate, that her father has irrevocably renounced

tenance for her infant, She believes never more to meet. pursue so desperate a course : he terri- her: De Morton had suppressed every fies her by throwing out dark menaces since her fight; and dead to hope

letter which she had addressed to him against his own life: she sees, in the moon-beam, his face pale as death, and which her fault had brought upon her,

stunned by the tremendous penalty nearly convulsed with agony: a brief interval (he allows her no time for deli- she neither dared to renew her filial beration) then decides her fate : supplications, nor had sufficient energy

left to retain

even a wish that they might, “ In agony she gazed around;

be heard. The progressive and touchNo foot approached, no blessed sound

ing manner in which her conversion Unheard, alas ! her father's name Dies on her lips no succour came

from this state of unnatural and moody Oh ! for a moment's pause to think

apathy is effected, cannot be too highly To breathe-to gasp on ruin's brink

commended. We shall select, for the Oh ! for some saving hand !-too late conclusion of this article, the passage, Behind her swung the closing gate : Cold on her heart, as 'twere the knell

though somewhat long, to which we of peace and hope, its echo fell."

allude, persuaded that it must excite in

every reader of sensibility, an anxious The developement of De Morton's desire to know how the sorrows of poor character, and the consequent punish- Ellen terininate. ment of the remorseful Ellen, now rapidly succeed. He deserts her ere the

“ The Sabbath day, the day of

Still bade her weekly labours cease; first twelvemonth has elapsed after their

Still, by instinctive reverence swayed, clopement; she is a mother, and be And long observance, she obeyed lieves herself to be a wife ;-a longer The ordinance of rest--in vain period, however, than usual, of neglect

Her rest was weariness and pain; and avoidance on his part, had rendered ,

For o'er her soul, devotion's balm,

Diffused no more its holy calm, her a prey to dejection and wretched- ;

And never since that fatal day ness, when a letter arrives that nearly When feeling fled with 'hope away, annihilates her:

Had Ellen's hands been raised to pray,


as she past,

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Nor ever had her footsteps trod 3887 M
The parement of the house of God, ' «T

Ellen' approached ttie end at last
Yet when the Sabbath bells around

Of that deep glatle ; when on her ear Rung out their sweet inviting sound,

A chime of bells came pealing clear, Almost with thoughts of other times,

Borne sweetly on the swelling breeze; She started at the well-known chimes,

And soon between the parting trees, And hastened, as in other days,

A lovely vale disclosed to sight To seek the house of prayer and praise.

Its hamlet group of dwellings white, But tho its portals opened wide

And its grey steeple's ivied fane, To entering crowds, they seemed denied

Where the long window's latticed pane To her, as if a barrier rose

Reflected in effulgence bright Unseen, her entrance to oppose

The warm red beams of evening light, Unseen, but felt-for care half-crazed

From that grey spire, the sacred sound Th' appalling interdiction raised,

Of Sabbath bells was ringing round, And fancy's wildly-roving eye,

And many a group, with faces glad, mil (1 From the gay crowds that passed her by,

In pride of Sunday raiment clad, Caught many a glance of insult proud;

Stood clustering round the church-yard gate, sisse And many a taunt more deep than loud,

Their pastor's near approach to wait. Breathed scoffingly in fancy's ear, • Presumptuous ! dost thou venture here!

“He came, a man with silver hair, (1 ; 10m The timid wanderer shrunk dismayed,

And eyes that beamed paternal care, f 11:23 Yet, round the holy walls she strayed,

When on his little flock they cast Like restless spirit, lingering long

Their silent blessing—as he past, To catch the swell of sacred song:

A word, a look, a smile to gain, Then far, far onward would she roam,

All pressed around, and none in vain. Till long fatigue recalled her home.

His hand to many an aged hand

Was stretched with cordial greeting bland, 4. A Sabbath's summer-noon was ofer,

And question kind, and words addrest And tempered was the fervid ray,

In tones of soothing interest ; When Ellen from her humble door

And young and old, alike partook With head declined came forth to stray,

His more than kind, his tender look, Reckless, regardless of her way.

So gentle, children round him prest Soon had she passed the noisy town,

To be encouraged and carest. And soon attained the upland down,

As Ellen gazed, her heart beat quick; And soon beyond its open plain

Tears to her eyes came fast and thick She roved in sheltered glades again.

Those reverend locks ! that mild blue eye It was an evening calm and mild,

Beaming in kind complacency; As the first evening nature smiled;

Those village groups f the place I 'the time! Beauteous, as if the guilt of man

The ivied steeple's silver chime ! Last Stand Had ne'er defaced his Maker's plan;

All sights and sounds combined so true, I And pain, the penalty of sin,

At once on memory's rapid view, And death, had never entered in,

(From her long trance awakening first,), Live No living sound, no motion stirred

All former scenes, and feelings burst, In earth or air, save song of bird,

With such a rush of tender pain, Or hom of insect on the wing,

As fainting nature to sustain

! Till Or trickling flot of pebbly spring.

Tasked all her strength and scarce could bides al Athwart the hollow lane's deep glade

Th impetuous, long-imprisoned tide.
Tall elm-trees flung their dark broad shade,
And sun-beams glancing bright between,

“ The bell had ceased; the rustic throng Touched the soft turf with emerald green.

With silent reverence moved along,

And some, as close they passed her by, “ Ben Ellen's heart half felt the power,

Lingered with kind enquiring eye, The influence of that tranquil hour,

And proffered low, with courteous look, So deep, so soothing, so serene

Welcome within to seat and book : The lovely stillness of the scene.

The voice of welcome, kind and new, Or memory's long-benighted waste,

Fell on her heart like balmy dew. A ray of former feelings past,

It seemed to say, “ Poor wanderer ! come, A feeble light, like morning grey,

A father's house invites thee home; Thro clouds just struggling into day

Approach ; his promised rest is sweet; The babe slept sweetly in her arms;

Cast down thy burthen at his feet.” She gazed upon its peaceful charms :

She entered, and the closing door, Yes, peace was there, as calm, profound,

Shut out the troublous world once more, As that all nature breathed around.

And all its cares a fearful host ! .
But whence that drop that glistens bright

Were soon in holier feelings lost.
On its soft cheek with liquid light?
Oh precious tear! for many a day

* But when the reverend preacher' rose, The first, from Ellen's eyes to stray ;

How touching was the text he chosc ! It fell, as on the buming plain

How did her heart within her burn! Fall the large drops of summer-rain;

It was the prodigal's return Heavy and slow at first, they break

Upon that mild persuasive tongue, The surface smooth of pool or lake,

In breathless eagerness she hung; Till thicker, smaller drops descend,

To her ! to her! each precious worrt And circles into circles blend,

Seemed strongly, feelingly referred: And the low clouds, their garnered store

The Lord had promised to forgive . In one long plenteous deluge pour.

The sinner who would turn and live;

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And as he spoke, with hands outspread,
And lifted eyes, around his tread
A beam of western glory bright
Played like a crown of living light."

And o'er her heart a heavenly calın
Een now diffused its healing balm.
But when the aged pastor dwelt
On all that contrite wanderer felt,
When yet far off, and bowed with shame,
His father to the meeting came,
And ran and fell upon his neck,
And kissed him, and bade them deck
The poor degraded weary one
With costly robes ; and cried, • My son
Is found, whom I had sought in vain;
Was dead, but is alive again I'
Scarce could the feeling be represt
That rose to transport in her breast :
Almost with warm resistless glow,
She cried aloud, “ I too will go
Unto my father, and confess
My wanderings and my wretchedness;
And he-oh blessed thought !-may greet
His child with pardoning love as sweet."
Solemn as dying saint's farewell,
The old man's parting blessing fell,

It would be unfair both to our author, and to those who, we trust, will become desirous of reading this poem, to proceed any further either in our exposition of the story, or our extracts. All we shall add is, that a very elegant and modest introduction in verse is prefixed to the volume, which, we think, will

go far towards awakening a favourable disposition in behalf of the writer : and that the catastrophe of the tale is one of the best imagined, and the most impressive, that we have ever met with.



OUR readers will have observed in from those found by the Turks when our pages lately, many notices relating first they took possession of the country. to endeavours of several of the better in- We know of nations which have formed and more public-spirited Greeks coalesced with their conquerors, and to diffuse the actuating impulse of know- even have taken their name ; but a ledge among their countrymen; nor Greek cannot be more injuriously or have we been backward to consider this more dishonourably aspersed, than by as the first power of a series, intended being called a Turk or a Mahometan. to issue in important consequences. A Greek may be supple from policy, he Greece, undoubtedly, for ages, was may cringe under the pressure of necessingularly illustrious in arts and arms. sitý; but at liberty to shew himself, he Science and literature were honoured, is another man. This observation, it both in public and in private, among must be understood, applies rather, in her communities; and so much of our its favourable sense, to the inhabitants own science and literature is to this day of the country, than to Greeks resident derived from Grecian sources, that scarce- in towns; and hence it is that travellers, ly any country on earth is allowed claims who mostly see the citizen Greeks, to superior interest. We study the form very inadequate conceptions of the language, as well as the arts, of our body of the people, with whom they ancient masters ; and it may safely be have no intercourse but in passing. said, that Britain never saw a period at Notwithstanding the lapse of nearly four which an acquaintance with it was centuries, during which the Ottoman more honourable, or more general—a banner has waved triumphant over the period when so extensive a subscription country, there were till very lately many for a costly work of the kind could have parts, and some of them of considerable been obtained, as that which now dis- extent, which retained their liberty, tinguishes Mr. Valpy's edition of Ste- where no Turk dared to shew himself, phens's Greek Thesaurus.

and where a slight acknowledgment of Greece has long suffered under the the Sultan's supremacy was all the obemost barbarous despotism ; but Greece dience he could exact from them. This has supported the misfortune with a was remarkable in the Mainiotes, the certain kind of sullen perseverance; and Spahiotes, the inhabitants of the town nearly four centuries have seen her sons, and fastnesses of Sulli, who long and for the most part, retain their national valiantly defended their liberty ; and if characteristics, notwithstanding the al- they ultimately fell victims to corruplurements held out by their oppressors tion and treachery, not a few of them to effect a substitution of their own; still preserve a strong recollection of and the indignities perpetrated towards their former state. Even the Albanians, those who sternly refuse compliance. undoubtedly the best soldiers in the We may say, that the language, the Turkish service, are no longer loyal manners, the local usages, differ little than while engaged in that service ; and

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