Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

number of prayers said, for she found herself unable to say any prayer at all. If he would come back to her, and ask her pardon - ask it in truth at her feet-she would still forgive him, regardless of the Virgin and the saints. And if he did not come back, what was the fate that Lotta Luxa had predicted for her, and to which she had acknowledged to herself that she would be driven to submit? In either case how could she again come to terms with St. John and St. Nicholas ? And how was she to live? Should she lose her lover, as she now told herself would certainly be her fate, what possibility of life was left to her? From day to day and from week to week she had put off to a future hour any def inite consideration of what she and her father should do in their poverty, believing that it might be postponed till her marriage would make all things easy. Her future mode of living had often been discussed between her and her lover, and she had been candid enough in explaining to him that she could not leave her father desolate. He had always replied that his wife's father should want for nothing, and she had been delighted to think that she could with joy accept that from her husband which nothing would induce her to accept from her lover. This thought had sufficed to comfort her, as the evil of absolute destitution was close upon her. Surely the day of her marriage would come soon.

But now it seemed to her to be certain that the day of her marriage would never come. All those expectations must be banished, and she must look elsewhere,— if elsewhere there might be any relief. She knew well that if she would separate herself from the Jew, the pocket of her aunt would be opened to relieve the distress of ber father- would be opened so far as to save the old man from perishing of want. Aunt Sophie, if duly invoked, would not see her sister's husband die of starvation. Nay, aunt Sophie would doubtless so far stretch her Christian charity as to see that her niece was in some way fed, if that niece would be duly obedient. Further still, aunt Sophie would accept her niece as the very daughter of her house, as the rising mistress of her own establishment, if that niece would only consent to love her son. Ziska was there as a husband in Anton's place if Ziska might only gain acceptance.

she swore to herself that she would dare all that the saints could do to her, that she would face all the terrors of the black dark river, before she would succumb to her cousin Ziska. As she worked herself into wrath, thinking now of the man she loved, and then of the man she did not love, she thought that she could willingly perish, if it were not that her father lay there so old and so helpless. Gradually, as she magnified to herself the terrible distresses of her heart, the agony of her yearning love for a man who, though he loved her, was so unworthy of her perfect faith, she began to think that it would be well to be carried down to the quick, eternal, almighty stream beyond the reach of the sorrow which encompassed her. When her father should leave her she would be all alone — alone in the world, without a friend to regard her, or one living human being on whom she, a girl, might rely for protection, shelter, or even for a morsel of bread. Would St. Nicholas cover her from the contumely of the world, or would St. John of the Bridges feed her? Did she in her heart of hearts believe that even the Virgin would assist her in such a strait? No; she had no such belief. It might be that such real belief had never been hers. She hardly knew. But she did know that now, in the hour of her deep trouble, she could not say her prayers and tell her beads, and trust valiantly that the goodness of heaven would suffice to her in her need.

In the mean time Souchey had gone off to the Windberg-gasse, and had gladdened himself with the soup, with the hot mess of cabbage and the sausage, supplied by Madame Zamenoy's hospitality. The joys of such a moment are unknown to any but those who, like Souchey, have been driven by circumstances to sit at tables very ill supplied. On the previous day he had fed upon offal thrown away from a butcher's stall, and habit had made such feeding not unfamiliar to him. As he walked, from the Kleinseite through the Old Town to Madame Zamenoy's bright-looking house in the New Town, he had comforted himself greatly with thoughts of the coming feast. The representation which his imagination made to him of the banquet sufficed to produce happiness, and he went along hardly envying any man. His propensities at the moment were the propensities of a beast. And yet he was submitting himself to the terrible poverty which made so small a matter now a matter of joy to him, because there was a something of nobility within him which made him true to the master

But Nina, as she rose from her chair and walked backwards and forwards through her chamber, telling herself all these things, clenched her fist, and stamped her foot, as FOURTH SERIES. LIVING AGE. VOL. III. 51.

who had been true to him, when they had both been young together. Even now he resolved, as he sharpened his teeth, that through all the soup and all the sausage he would be true to the Balatkas. He would be true even to Nina Balatka, — though he recognised it as a paramount duty to do all in his power to save her from the Jew.

He was seated at the table in the kitchen almost as soon as he had entered the house in the Windberg-gasse, and found his plate full before him. Lotta had felt that there was no need of the delicacy of compliment in feeding a man who was so undoubtedly hungry, and she had therefore bade him at once fall to. "A hearty meal is a thing you are not used to," she had said, “and it will do your old bones a deal of good." The address was not complimentary, especially as coming from a lady in regard to whom he entertained tender feelings; but Souchey forgave the something of coarse familiarity which the words displayed, and, seating himself on the stool before the victuals, gave_play to the feelings of the moment. "There's no one to measure what's left of the sausage," said Lotta, instigating him to new feats.

Ain't there now?" said Souchey, responding to the sound of the trumpet. "I always thought she had the devil's own eye in looking after what was used in the kitchen."

"The devil himself winks sometimes," said Lotta, cutting another half-inch off from the unconsumed fragment, and picking the skip from the meat with her own fair fingers. Hitherto Souchey had been regardless of any such niceness in his eating, the skin having gone with the rest; but now he thought that the absence of the outside covering and the touch of Lotta's fingers were grateful to his appetite.

Souchey," said Lotta, when he had alto gether done and had turned his stool round to the kitchen fire, "where do you think Nina would go if she were to marry a Jew?" There was an abrupt solemnity in the manner of the question which at first baffled the man, whose breath was heavy with the comfortable repletion which had been bestowed upon him.

"Where would she go to?" he said, repeating Lotta's words.

"Yes, Souchey, where would she go to? Where would be her eternal home? What would become of her soul? Do you know that not a priest in Prague would give her absolution though she were on her dying bed? Oh, holy Mary, it's a terrible thing

[merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small]

"What matters that, Souchey? Is she not engaged to him as his wife? Can anything in the world be so dreadful? Don't you know she'll be damned for ever and ever?" Lotta, as she uttered the terrible words, brought her face close to Souchey's, looking into his eyes with a fierce glare. Souchey shook his head sorrowfully, owning thereby that his knowledge in the matter of religion did not go to the point indicated by Lotta Luxa. "And wouldn't anything, then, be a good deed that would prevent that?

[ocr errors]

"It's the priest's that should do it among them."

"But the priests are not the men they used to be, Souchey. And it is not exactly their fault neither. There are so many folks about in these days who care nothing who goes to glory and who does not, and they are too many for the priests."

"If the priests can't fight their own battle, I can't fight it for them," said Souchey. "But for the old family, Souchey, that you have known so long! Look here; you and I between us can prevent it."

"And how is it to be done?"

"Ah! that's the question. If I felt that I was talking to a real Christian that had a care for the poor girl's soul, I would tell you in a moment."

"So I am; only her soul isn't my business."

"Then I cannot tell you this. I can't do it unless you acknowledge that her welfare as a Christian is the business of us all. Fancy, Souchey, your mistress married to a filthy Jew."

"For the matter of that, he isn't so filthy neither."

"An abominable Jew! But, Souchey, she will never fall out with him. We must contrive that he shall quarrel with her. If she had a thing about her that he did not want her to have, couldn't you contrive that he should know it?"

"What sort of thing? Do you mean another lover, like?"

"No, you gander. If there was anything of that sort I could manage it myself. But if she had a thing locked up,-away

from him, couldn't you manage to show it to laid her hand heavily upon his arm, and she him? He's very generous in rewarding, was very confidential. Souchey listened to you know." the whisper till his face grew longer and "I don't want to have anything to do longer. Tis for her soul," said Lotta — with it," said Souchey, getting up from his" for her poor soul's sake. When you can stool, and preparing to take his departure. save her by raising your hand, would you Though he had been so keen after the sau- let her be damned for ever?" sage, he was above taking a bribe in such a matter as this.

"Stop, Souchey, stop. I didn't think that I should ever have to ask anything of you in vain."

Then she put her face very close to his, so that her lips touched his ear, and she

But she could exact no promise from Souchey except that he would keep faith with her, and that he would consider deeply the proposal made to him. Then there was a tender farewell between them, and Souchey returned to the Kleinseite.

[blocks in formation]

From the New-York Observer.
HOPEFULLY WAITING.*

O day of love and calm delight,
"The brightest of the seven,'
O precious foretaste of the rest
And blessedness of heaven!

O blessed scene of peace and love,
That seems to heaven akin,
Is this a world of pain and death,
Of sorrow and of sin? - &c., &c.

Here is a stanza from a piece entitled

Two prayers, dear Lord, in one

Give me both less and more;

Less of the impatient world, and more of Thee;
Less of myself, and all that heretofore
Made me to slip where ready feet do run,
And held me back from where I fain would
be,

WE have long been desiring to welcome to our table a volume of poems from our friend, the well-known publisher, Mr. A. D. F. Randolph, who has been doing so much to introduce to the world the choice productions of other pens, and we are glad that in the midst of the duties of an arduous profession, he has at length found time to gather"Less and More:" the fruits of occasional hours spent in the indulgence of his own cultivated genius and taste. For years we have been familiar with some of the gems contained in this volume, and we shall prize them all the more for having them in this form, associated with others of like merit. There is nothing ambitious in the style of the poems; they are modest flowers, but they breathe the fragrance of genuine poetry, and they have the richer fragrance of a Christian heart, all the richer because that heart has been bruised. Indeed, the rarest merit of these fugitive pieces, apart from their real literary worth, consists in their being the promptings of a heart awake to all the tender experiences of life. Those who have hearts to love, and hearts to feel when the tendrils of the soul are torn asunder, will find their own emotions traced in many of these lines as faithfully as if they were written from their own experience.

The poems are nearly all of a domestic character lays of the hearthstone, -some of them written amid its joys, when the sunshine was breaking in at the window, and some of them when the shadow had fallen, but not so heavily as to shut out the brighter light of heaven from the soul. Of the former character is the poem entitled "Rich though Poor," the first stanza of which is as follows:

[merged small][ocr errors][merged small]

Kept me, my Lord, from Thee!

The longest poem in the volume is "Margaret Brown," one of the "simple annals of the poor," a record of one who, out of poverty, was made rich by the grace of Him who for our sakes became poor. We should be glad to copy it entire, but we give a single stanza a specimen of the whole :

Long years have passed - poor, bind, and old,
She waits until God's will is done;
And yet her closed eyes behold
That world of glories manifold,
And Jesus as the Sun.

The hymn entitled "Longings" is well worthy of a place in our books of devotion, so expressive is it of the breathings of a soul sighing after closer communion with the Saviour as the only source of true peace. The following we have read again and again in order to make an extract, but it cannot be divided. Many parental hearts will moisten it with tears as they read:

I.

Of all the darling children

That e'er a household blessed,
We place our baby for compare
With the fairest and the best;
She came when last the violets

Dropped from the hand of Spring,
When on the trees the blossoms hung
Those cups of odorous incense swung

When dainty robins sing.

How glowed the early morning
When she possessed our waiting hearts
After a night of rain,
To go not out again;

[merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

Geological Sketches. By L. Agassiz. Trübner and Co.

Rocks Classified and Described. A Treatise on Lithology. By Bernhard von Cotta. An English Edition by Philip Henry Lawrence. With English, German, and French Synonyms. Revised by the Author. Longmans.

Agassiz are notes from lectures originally prepared as popular sketches of scientific facts and principles for the Atlantic Monthly. They still retain, says their author, something of the familiarity induced by the personal relation of a lecturer to his audience; in so doing, we may add, they make a book that will be very delightful to a wide circle of readers. A thorough man of science is almost always intellectually and socially one of the best companions. The charm of the nature to which his mind is given glimmers through him. Keenly alive to the exquisite harmony and beauty of the divine plan whereof some one part is the great study of his life, the harmony is apt to pass into his temper; his study of the supreme wisdom makes him unaffected in the expression of his own wisdom or knowledge. The man of letters may contract a humour of pride from the habit of comparing his own works with those of inferior men whom the world applauds. But the contact of the naturalist is with the inexpressible perfection of the works of God. Let the cause be what it may, the fact is certain that, as a general rule, students of natural science or natural history are among the simplest and most genial of the wise men of this world; and of these it is true almost universally that the more their knowledge the less their pretension. When they tell some of their knowledge to the public at large, as Professor Agassiz does in this little volume of Geological Sketches, what they write is, for all who can read thoughtfully, as entertaining as a novel.

The growth of continents is the main subject of the book. America, first born among the continents, is, says Mr. Agassiz, geologically the old world, not the new. Here was the first dry land lifted out of the waters.

No

Thus runs the story as here told. Once our earth was in a state of igneous fusion, without water and without air. wind blew over it, no rain fell upon it, but an intense heat held all its materials in solution. The rocks, which are now the bones and sinews of our mother earth, were then a liquid mass. The agencies that were at work then are at work now. The earth we tread is but a thin crust over a liquid sea of molten materials. "From artesian wells, from mines, from geysers, from hot springs, a mass of facts has been collected, proving incontestably the heated condition of all substances at a certain depth below the earth's surface; and if we need more positive evidence we have it in the fiery erupTHE Geological Sketches of Professor tions that even now bear fearful testimony

Ferns: British and Foreign. Their History, Orthography, Classification, and Enumeration. With a Treatise on their Cultivation, etc. etc. By John Smith, A.L S., Ex Curator of the Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew. Hardwicke.

« ZurückWeiter »