through the town, telling as that all was lost on the Parliament's side; but they hurried on without giving any particulars."

As Baxter made a slight pause, Alice fixed her speaking eyes upon her father. His countenance was composed, but colourless, and his eyes were closed. "The townsmen, then," continued Mr. Baxter, "sent a messenger to Stratford-on-Avon, and about four o'clock in the morning he returned."

"With what news ?" said Elliston eagerly, if not impatiently.

"The left wing of the Parliament's army was wholly routed by Prince Rupert:"—the old man sighed, and Alice's downcast eyes were moistened.—" While his men were plundering the wagons, the main body and the right wing routed the rest of the King's army."

"How happened it," said Elliston, "that the left wing gave way?"

"It occurred through the treachery of Sir James Fortescue. When he was ordered to charge, he went over to the King."

"What I always feared. Those who have had experience of hereditary honours, cannot easily resist the flatteries of a king. I would that none but yeomen held commissions in the army."

"You would exclude many noblemen who are the strength of the cause."

"Then it will not prosper. If it prosper, it must be through the instrumentality of God's people."

"True ; yet He sometimes useth the instrumentality of those who are not his servants. The wrath of man is sometimes made to accomplish the purposes of God. But there are noblemen engaged in this cause, who are doubtless governed by the fear of God. Some have already done excellent service. Lord St. John fell in the late battle, and the victory was in no small degree owing to the exertions of Sir Philip Stapleton, and Sir Arthur Hasselrig. What could we do without our noble general, the Earl of Essex?"

"There is one who is far better fitted than he to be leader in arms, as he has been in council from the commencement of the struggle."

"You mean Mr. Hampden. I confess it would give me great content to see the chief power in his hands."

"I distrust not the Earl of Essex, but in Hampden there are gifts and graces, such as God bestowed upon Nchemiah of old."

"I doubt not he is doing the cause greater service than he could render, were the whole oarc of the soldiery upon him. My spirit has often been refreshed by the heavenly conversation of that beloved man. He has a ripeness for Heaven which makes me fear that poor distracted England may ere long lack his ser

vices,—in consequence of his being called to the nobler ones of the upper sanctuary."

"Were you near the battle-field?" whispered Alice.

"I visited it the morning after the battle, and found the Earl of Essex keeping the ground, and the King's army upon a hill about a mile off. There were then about a thousand dead bodies upon the field; many had been buried before I came."

"A thousand Englishmen slain by the hands of their brethren!" exclaimed Alice, with a blanched cheek and uplifted hands.

"A thousand souls sent to their everlasting account," said Mr. Elliston solemnly. "When He maketh inquisition for blood, what a fearful account will a tyrannous king and persecuting hierarchy have to render!"

"You speak harshly of his majesty. We must remember that he is our lawful sovereign, though he has had ill advisers. I trust that, now they have seen the resolution of the oppressed, they will consider their folly and wickedness, and give to the King wholesome councils, and such as will bring the troubles to a speedy close. At farthest, one more battle will give us peace."

Mr. Elliston kept silence, but by a gesture showed plainly that he differed from his friend. The opinion expressed by Baxter was very generally entertained by the Puritaus, but Mr. Elliston was in frequent communication with Mr. Hampden, who had far juster views of the prospects of the nation.

"Are the soldiers still at Edgehill?" said Alice.

"The King's troops have gone to Oxford. The Earl of Essex having taken care of the wounded, is at Warwick Castle."

"A thousand slain ones on the field! Waa it not an awful sight?"

"It was. The sight of death in so many ghastly forms, woke within me more dreadful thoughts of the second death than I am wont to entertain. Were the war to contiuuc long, I would join some regiment and labour to prepare the soldier for the great change which is ever at his door. There are, however, many in the army, to whom a sudden summons would not be unsafe."

"Were there any mourners seeking for lost friends on the field of death?"

"I saw there a mother with her infant child. She sought its father among those grim corpses. She placed the child on the ground by the side of the dead, and it dabbled its little hand in the clotted gore, and looked up and smiled, and wondered at the tears which rained from the eyes of the mother. I spoke to the distressed woman, and found alas! that she had no hope for him who was gone."

"It must be wrong," said the gentle mother, who had hitherto listened in silence. "What are the oppressions which have been suffered to scenes like these? Mr. Baxter, you are a minister of a peaceful gospel—can you countenance such deeds?"

"I confess I long had doubts respecting the lawfulness of drawing the sword, apparently against his majesty, but, really in defence of his just authority, till they were resolved by Mr. Hampden. He has thought deeply upon the matter, and taken counsel of God. When we last met, we spent the whole night in conference upon this subject, not without much prayer. He wept sorely at the necessity of having resort to the weapons of blood; but it seemed to him to be clearly a case in which God himself mustereth the host to war. If ever man lived with a single eye, that man is John Hampden. He has most earnestly asked wisdom from God, and, I doubt not, has received it."

"I agree with you perfectly in that opinion," said Mr. Elliston.—"You are feeble and weary, and need rest. We will hear more from you on the morrow. You do not design to make as a brief visit?"

"I found myself shut out from my field of labour, and feeling sure of a weleome, I came with the purpose of remaining till the fighting is at an end."

"You judged rightly that you would be weleome. We shall be glad to have you with us as long as you propose." The manner in which he said this, revealed to the observing ear of Alice, his conviction that the visit was likely to be a protracted one. So much the better, so far as the visit was concerned. Mr. Hliston's was but one of ten thousand firesides in England, where Mr. Baxter would have been weleome for a lifetime.

The Bible was placed before him. A chapter was read, and expounded with the clearness, copiousness, and heart-application which characterized the services of Baxter. A fervent prayer was then offered for themselves, for their country, and for the church of God.


Mb. Baxter remained with his friend nearly a month, when the war, instead of being ended, had spread all over England. In the mean time, he had discovered, to his great grief, that his old friend was little better than a republican. Mr. Elliston had not, like Baxter and many others, deluded himself into the belief that the Parliament was not carrying war against the King. He regarded the King as an enemy to be conquered; yea, he thought he might as lawfully be shot as any soldier in his army.

Baxter, ever zealous to confute political as well as religious heresies, held long discussions with his host, and spared no arguments to win him back to loyalty. He also sought to guard Alice from adopting, on this subject, the opinions of her father. She would listen, with pleased attention, to his propositions and distinctions; sometimes interposing questions which would inconveniently interfere with the continuity of his elaborate logie, and sometimes in gentle, yet glowing language, giving utterance to sentiments which would have charmed the ear of Milton.

Perceiving no prospect of a speedy termination to the war, unwilling to remain inactive, and perhaps ill-pleased with his failure to restore his friend to loyalty, Baxter accepted an invitation to become the minister of the garrison at Coventry.

Some months had passed, and the cloud still hung over England, ever and anon discharging its fiery contents. It was evening. Alice was sitting alone in the parlour—her parents having gone to an evening lecture. There was a gentle knock at the door. The timid servant hesitating, Alice lifted the latch. "George Hollis, what has brought you here!" was her halfunconscious exclamation. It was the first time she had pronounced his name without the customary prefix. She became conscious of the fact as soon as the words had escaped from her lips, and in her confusion, she neglected to invite him to enter. He waited not for an invitation; but seeing her in need of support, he gently placed his arm around her, and pressed her to his heart, then led her to the sofa, and seated himself by her side. For a moment the silence was unbroken, unless it were by the audible beating of her heart. Their eyes met—there was a world of meaning exchanged in that glance.

"Why are you not at the University?" said Alice, making a desperate effort to break the oppressive silence.

"Because," said he, smiling for the first time since his entrance, "I find a much stronger attraction here."

"These are not the times for compliments. You did not employ them at my uncle's, I pray you do not enter upon them here. It is a matter of joy to your friends, that while many are exposed to the dangers of the field, your duty calls you to the quiet retreats of learning." This was spoken in order to give a turn to the conversation. Hollis was half-inclined to regard it as ironical.

"Have I done well in remaining thus long in those quiet retreats, leaving my countrymen to bear the heat and burden of the day?"

"Men have different callings."

"I recently met one who when these troubles came on, was in Italy, drinking at the fountains of literature, and perfecting himself in that divine art whose brightest ornament he is; he immediately set out for England, deeming it base to be enjoying a learned ease abroad, when his friends were fighting for liberty at home. In like manner, I judge that it ill becomes the son of Colonel Hollis to abide in safety at Cambridge, when braver and better men are baring their bosoms to the death-shot."

"You intend to join the army," said Alice, vainly endeavouring to conceal the alarm the thought occasioned.

"I have come to ask your approbation of the work before me."


"Yes, yours!" fixing his eye upon hers. "It is a solemn step, and I wish for the approbation and blessing of one whose favour I prize more highly than that of any human being. May I hope that"

The sentence was interrupted by the agitation of Alice. She was preserved from falling from her seat, only by the intervention of his arm. Before another word was spoken, her parents entered the parlour. Alice requested her father to assist her to her chamber. On leaving the apartment, she gave Hollis a look and smile which removed all doubt respecting his interest in her heart.

On Mr. Elliston's return to the parlour, Hollis made a brief statement of the object of his visit. "I saw your daughter," said he, "last summer, at Elliston Hall, and the esteem with which I was led to regard her, has caused me to make this hasty visit, previous to my committing myself to the chances of the field. It was not my purpose to say aught to her respecting my feelings and wishes, till I had first securedy our approbation; I have been led to depart from that purpose, for which I crave pardon."

"I should expect nothing from the son of Colonel Hollis, but what is in accordance with the law of propriety and right. I was aware that you had seen my daughter, and have sometimes feared that an impression might have been made unfavourable to her peace."

"I saw her worth, and may have unconsciously manifested the admiration and regard it was adapted to awaken. The son of John Hollis would not seek to ensnare the affections of any one without the consent of those to whom she owes duty. What has taken place this evening was without design, and for it I hope to be pardoned."

"I know Colonel John Hollis well, and if, as I trust he is, the son be worthy of the sire, he is one to whom a parent may well be content to commit his daughter's happiness. But, young man, think well before you proceed further in this matter. The times are troublous.

It may be that the good cause may be overborne. In that case, the members of so prominent a family as yours would meet with exile, if not with death. Besides, you are yet young, and may meet with some one, perhaps, among the daughters of the noble, who would better grace your father's halls."

"I fear not to affirm, that among all the daughters of England's nobles, there is no one of more true grace and dignity than Alice."

The old Puritan smiled at the enthusiasm of the young man.

"What says the Colonel to your project of wooing a country girl?"

"Pardon me, sir, you told me you knew my father."

"He has increased in power and consequence since I saw him."

"He remains unchanged, save that he has an intenser hatred of oppression, and a firmer daring to resist it. When he drew the sword, he threw away the scabbard."

Again a smile rested on the old man's lips. "Think well of the matter: you have my approbation so far as you have that of your honoured father."

"Thank you. In the morning, I will, if Alice will allow me, spend an hour with her; then I must hasten back to Cambridge."

The lovers met at an early hour. No verbal explanation of the relation they sustained to each other seemed necessary.

"I must leave you, dearest, in an hour at most."

"Must you return to the University so soon?"

"I return to Cambridge, but not to the University. I have lately had an interview with one whom England will ere long recognise as her mightiest son, and I have, in consequence, with my father's permission, resolved to join a regiment of cavalry about to be raised. It is to consist wholly of noblemen."

"Of noblemen!"

"Yes, of noblemen by divine right. No one is to be received who cannot give an intelligent reason of the hope that is within him. It is to be composed of those who can pray as well as fight; who, while they wield the weapons of carnal warfare, can at the same time grasp the sword of the spirit. With such men, our leader is confident he can sweep away every opposing foe, and show in what way an end can be put to a war, which, if protracted, will make England a desert."

"Such a regiment the world has never seen. Who is to command it?"

"Oliver Cromwell, now a captain."

A look of disappointment clouded her transparent features. He guessed the thought that was passing in her mind.

(To be continued.;

[graphic][merged small][ocr errors]

Thcri was a garden, near Jerusalem,

Where Jesus went to pray, not the fair breast

Of Olivet—beloved by Kidron's wave—

Bat wrapped in denser shades, and deeper veiled,

For the soul's secresy.

Thither he went.
With his disciples, when his course on earth
Drew near a close. It was a moonless night,
And heavily he drooped, as one who bears
An inward burden. Drear Gethsemane
Gave him no weleome, as his weary feet
Paused at its portal. Almost it might seem
That X at are, with prophetic eye, foresaw
The sufferings of her Lord. With its rough cones,
The terebinth did tremble, and the buds
That Spring had early wakened, hid their heads
Again in their turf-cradles, tearfully.

A hormr of great darkness fell on Him
Woo wrought the world's salvation.

Unto those,
Who at His call had left the fisher's coat,
And the receipt of custom, and hod shared
His daily bread, he turned; for in the hour
Of bitter anguish, sympathy is dear,
Eren from the humblest.

Unto them, He turned,
But they were gone,—gone!—and ne searching found
That heavy-eyed and self-indulgent band
Stretched out, In sleep supine. They took their rest,
While He, who for their sakes had toiled and taught,
And healed their sickness and supplied their need,
And walked at midnight on the raging sea,
Strove with the powers of darkness. Rising tides
Of grieved, untiring, unrequited love
Mixed with the question from those lips divine,

"Gould ye not watch one, hour?"

Then, He withdrew Again, and prayed. Tho mournful olives bent, Weaving their branches round him tenderly, And sighed and thrilled, thro' all their listening leaves. Paler than marble was the brow that pressed The matted grass, leaving the blood-print there, Yea, the red blood-print.

Oh Gethsomanc!
Draw closer thy drear veil. I would not see
My Saviour's agony.

Vet not alone
Passed that dread hour, tho' His disciples slept.
There was a pitying spirit of the skies,
Who wept and wondered, and from odorous wings
Shed balm ambrosial on the sufferer's head.

Would that I knew Ml name, who thus did stand
Near the Redeemer, when both earth and heaven
Forsook His fainting soul. There was a sound
Like rushing pinions of a seraph host;
But wildering awe, and unsolved mystery
Enchained them in mid-air, ond only one
Came down to comfort Him.

Thou who didst bear
Unuttcred pangs for an ungrateful race,
Remember us, when desolate, and lone,
In our Gethsemanes, we agonize,
Imploring God to take the cup away,
And shrinking, in our poverty of faith,
To add the words, that make His will, our own.
Thou, who amid Heaven's bliss, forget test not
The weakness of the clay Thou once didst wear,
Nor how the shafts of pain do trouble it,
Send us a strengthening angel, in our need;
Oh 1 be Thyself that angel.

a portrait of that distinguished tavant, Alexander Von Humboldt. This eminent philosopher was born at Berlin, September 14th, 1769. He is consequently now eighty years of age. During the whole of this long life he has been actively engaged in the pursuit of physical science, his contributions to which are almost as numerous as his years. He has visited almost every quarter of the world as a scientific traveller. His most celebrated scientific expedition was that in which he explored the regions of Central America, in the years 1799-1803. The results of that expedition have been of the utmost importance to science. The publications connected with it fill no less than seventeen folio and eleven quarto volumes, magnificently illustrated. The expedition next in importance was one to Central Asia, commenced in 1829. In this journey he explored the Uralian Mountains, tho Caspian Sea, and the frontiers of China. The results were published at Paris in 1843. His latest work is the Kuoiuus, published in 1847. Humboldt is said to be on the most intimate terms of personal friendship with the King and royal family of Prussia, by whom he is held in the highest estimation, and among whom he is almost domesticated.




(See Engraving.)

Thrre is no more common mistake than that of supposing that Americans are, as compared with other nations, without national recollections. Though our republic is young, our nation is old. We have an inheritance in John Milton and Oliver Cromwell, in Shakespeare, and Spenser, and Chaucer, and Wickliffe, and Alfred, and Caedmon, in the Long Parliament, and Battle Abbey, and Doomsday Book, and in all the other great names and events of early English history, just as inalienable as that of the most loyal subjocts of Queen Victoria. Every great stream has a delta at its mouth. England is one, we are the other, of the two main channels through which the long stream of Anglo-Saxon life is emptying itself into the great ocean of modern civilization. This delta commences with the reign of George III., less than a century ago. All the long centuries

before that, all the glorious achievements in literature, in arms, in the growth of liberal ideas, and the establishment of civil rights, are a joint inheritance. Among these historical recollections, to which every American may assert an inalienable birthright, are those connected with the grant of the Great Charter of English liberty.

This celebrated spot is now a common, consisting of one hundred and sixty acres, on the banks of the Thames, in the parish of Egham. We give an excellent engraving of it in the front of our present number, copied from a recent English work. Its name is said, by Matthew of Westminster, to be derived from a Saxon word signifying council-—several councils having been held there, before that which has given it such celebrity.

« 上一页继续 »