Achieved in your behalf, impute it not
To eager passion for your clamorous praise.
This bravery of the vain and youthful heart
Becomes not now; and I but show the past,
Even as a history, needful to be told
To guerdon future fealty.

THRASYMACHUS.

We shall hear

With a delighted patience, that conceives
A freshness in the story known so well,
When, in this gloomy hour, it leaves the lips
Of him, the mighty hero of the whole!

BRUTUS.

When golden Hebe, daughter to great Jove,
Covered my youthful cheeks with manly down,
The unhappy slaughter of my luckless sire,
Drove me, and old Assarachus, mine uncle,
As exiles from the bounds of Italy.
To Pandrasus we fled, the Grecian monarch,
Where I alone did undertake your cause,-
Restored your antique liberty, maintained
Your rights, though Grecia and Molossia stormed;
And to the fierce confederates, that strove
To raze the name of Trojan out from earth,
Gave foul defeat and bitter overthrow!
Thence did I bring ye into safety forth,
Through the rough Hellespont-through Les-
trigon-

The wild Sicilian gulf-the Illician sea,-
To Aquitaine, where, battling with the Gauls,
Lost I my Turnus! It was for your sakes!
Thence to the shores of Albion, where we slew
The Giants, sprung from mighty Samotheus;
And where we find us now, secure and strong,
In undisputed sovereignty and ease!
Now, shall we see, if these laborious toils-
If this, my care-if these, my generous wounds,
Were wasted fruitless on ungrateful men!

CORINEIUS.

First, let me answer for myself, great king!-
What I have hazarded of blood and life,
To purchase your full confidence and love,
I say not, for thou know'st! What need I say?
This arm, this heart, this life and precious
blood,

Are thine! But speak thy purpose, and I serve.

DEBON.

To the same burden is my voice, great king; Nor mine alone, but all!

OMNES.

All! all!

CORINEIUS.

Thou hear'st!

The sun was two or three hours high yet, when I left the highway, which appeared very much like a by-way, and struck through the tall trees, by a still fainter trace, to the river bank. The beautiful Illinois rolled, or rather glided, gently by, its low banks and still lower islands covered with tall magnificent trees; and excepting a cabin on the opposite bank, and a skiff far down the stream, presented an unbroken solitude. All around the little spot on which I stood, the thick, lofty forest was made wild and dark and impervious by the tangled "underbrush," woven together by countless and almost endless grape vines. It was romantic, certainly; but I cannot say I thought it so beautiful as to wish to remain there. I lifted up my voice, therefore, without delay. There was no response. Again and again I called in vain. At length, when I had almost concluded to turn back to where there were human habitations, my call was answered, and a woman appeared on the shore. Right glad was I, and hopeful of deliverance. But my hope was soon destroyed, or at least deferred, by the information that "the men were all gone over to the slough with the boats," and would not be back until sundown.

Well, there was no help for it. I'd "be to stay, any how." So I composed myself to remain. My horse was tied so that he could browse, or maybe pick grass a little; and I would have set myself down to read or meditate a few hours, if I could; but my attention was otherwise drawn. That which at first glance seemed a solitude, I soon discovered was filled with life and action. Myriads of aerial beings, with tiny forms and rapid motions, and soft humming tones, were around

I'd be to stay," however; the woman said so, and there was no help for it. And I stayed, two or three long hours, until the shadows of the tall trees were thrown across the river; until the sunshine left the eastern bank, the ferryman's cabin, the tree tops, and gray twilight threw a soft and uniform, but not, to me, remarkably cheerful shading, over the scene. I cannot say I dreamed, or slept, or was lost in meditation. Who sleeps or dozes in fairy land? Who sees, or hears, or thinks, or does anything, but watch the motions of the little sprites? For me, my eyes, and ears, and hands, and feet, were constantly, simultaneously, and actively employed. It was not imagination, but reality.

I waited to hear a call from the ferry-house, or to see the returning boats, until the twilight began to fade away; but no boats were seen, no call was heard. I raised my voice again, and shouted loud and clear; and when the eohoes had died away on the eastern shore, a voice was heard in reply. That reply was far from pleasant. "The boats had been left at the slough, and it would take a long while to get them down." After some time, however, it was agreed to bring them; but just then the discovery was made that I had a carriage. "O, if you have a carriage we can't get you over, no how. The flat's up out of the water to get a plank or two on the bottom, because it leaked so bad, and we can't run her till them's put on."

"But, my good friend, what am I to do? I've been waiting here these three hours, and now it's dark. Do, if you can, help me out of my difficulty."

"Well, I'm right sorry, stranger, that you're in sich a fix, but you see I can't help it. I tell

you what you can do. Jist go back to the fust house, and stay thar to-night. It's my fatherin-law's, and the old man 'll keep you; and then you can come down in the mornin'. We'll be at the flat before daylight, and git her fixed agin ten o'clock. That's the best I can do for you. I'm railly sorry you got took in so."

There was no help for it. I turned my horse into the "wheel-track" with not a few doubts of the probability of tracing the faint lines that a few wagons had made through the tall "timber." A little prairie of an acre or so, showed me that the moon was shining, of which the evidence was rather dubious before, and trusting to my horse, or else walking at his head to assure myself, I came to "the old man's" and applied for lodging.

"I'm mighty sorry, stranger," said a whiteheaded boy of twelve or so, "but I reckon we can't 'commodate you, no how; cause daddy's sick, and mammy aint at home. I wish you'd please to go furder back to Mr. Stout's. It's the fust house you come to; and they live on the big road; you be sartin to git to stay thar."

So I went "furder" and "got to stay;" though I seemed likely to get nothing else. I could not guess so positively about the age of the person to whom I applied, nor the natural complexion, as I might have done with the aid of a little water judiciously applied, but with very little hesitation came to the conclusion that it was a woman, of which fact I became more certain after a little conversation.

Well, I don't know. We're not fixed to keep travellers. I reckon you'll be to go to Mr. Squire's; they're mighty well fixed for it." "How far is it, madam?"

"It's maybe two mile-not more'n three, any how, and a plain road; nothin' to turn you out."

I had sufficient evidence on that subject, for I had passed along it about noon; and had no desire to retrace it at night. After urging the woman a little more, she agreed to entertain

me.

But a new difficulty arose.

"I haint got a hait for your brute to eat, and he's gone down to the branch a huntin coons. But if you're a mind to, you may put the hoss in yonder stable."

I did as directed; and not long after found myself at a sort of table with meat fried crisp, and floating in fat, dough biscuit, and strong muddy coffee, which after all was "not bad to take" after my evening's excursion. My bed was of course in the same room. About midnight I heard some one talking to my hostess, and her reply was, "It's a man that couldn't git over the river till mornin', and he wanted to stay so bad I let him."

"What sort of a man is he?"

"I don't know, but I reckon he's a preacher. He prayed ever so long before he went to bed." Now I was by no means aware that I had protracted the exercises of family worship; which I had no doubt was a rarity, if not unprecedented in that household, though by no means unacceptable, as was evident. The good man seemed satisfied, and the conversation ceased.

Next morning when I arose I found mine host had taken measures to secure my horse a feed. "He had some wheat in the sheaf," he said, "and had been over to the field to git some for the nag. He didn't never like to see brute critters suffer no more than humans; and they shouldn't, when he could raise a feed for 'em."

I forget whether the charge for my entertainment was "a bit," or "nothin' at all;" though I am inclined to think it was the latter. At ten o'clock the bank of the river was again before me, the thick tangled forest around me, and my aerial friends were as numerous, as lively, as musical, and as penetrating as ever. Two or three men on the eastern bank seemed busily employed on something-as their movements, and the sound of hammers and saws testified; and to my hail the response was given, that they would be ready in an hour or two. I will not dwell on the tediousness of delay, when the hour of my appointment at Doctor Field's was approaching, and an "unknown quantity" of travel before me; nor insist on my patience and meekness under the inflictions innumerable which I endured. I had abundant opportunity for their exercise, certainly, and for the manual exercise too. It would have been entertaining to an uninterested witness, to see with what zeal and animation I handled the musket-oes.

At length, after various cheering calls and exhortations to have patience, the men on the other side got their clumsy craft into the river, and themselves into it: and soon a kind of wide trough, or box, was brought to the shore, and my buggy, my horse, and myself, successively and successfully introduced. The rough, hardy fellows who handled this primitive watercraft, were not only civil, but pleasant, kind, and cheerful, in rendering the service. I was soon on the eastern bank, but not before my friend Tom Higgins had uttered various apologies for the delay, and censures against those who had sent me thither. ought to be indicted, that would send a traveller this way for a ferry. I hain't got no ferry at all, and don't live on any road, 'cause it's an island, and the slough runs clear round it. I just keep a flat for my own use; but I'll always help any poor fellow out of a scrape." He had already learned that I wished to go to

"Any man

Dr. Field's, and the first instruction I received was, that my "nag must be fed, for it was arternoon." So I was ushered into the house with a welcome. "Polly, you must get this man some dinner, for it 'll be night afore he gits to the Doctor's, if he gits there at all tonight. And me and the boys 'll go to the slough and git the boats ready, and I'll be back agin he gits his dinner."

Dinner was prepared, promptly and cheerfully, by the young wife. I thought she might possibly be pretty, but could not see distinctly, on account of some sort of covering on the face, whether smoke or-what, I pretend not to say. I will not boast of the meal, though it was abundant; but whether from my anxiety, or something else, I had not much appetite. The host was not long absent. By the time I had been at the table a reasonable time, he had returned and got my horse ready; so we at once proceeded up the river bank about a mile, Higgins going before, with strides that threatened to leave me alone. When we arrived at the slough, I found there were two canoes, one quite small, and the other a good deal smaller, in which my horse and wagon, as well as myself, were to be ferried across the water. The question rose very naturally, "How is this to be done?" "Never you mind," said Tom, "we'll fix it in no time." The horse was taken from the buggy, the latter lifted down a precipitous bank some feet, and laid on the canoes, the axles forming the connecting ties, and the wheels hanging in the water like the paddles of a steamboat. That safely landed, the canoes returned. I was taken in one, and my horse not in but behind the other.

Here I resumed my inquiries as to the road and distance, but my friend Tom was not done with me yet. "I'll go 'long, up to Hindostan, and show you, or else you'll hardly find it, 'case there aint no road at all."

Away we went, Tom before, clearing away brush and logs for me for a mile or two further, when we rose to the top of the bluff,-a heap of sand, on which a town had been "laid off," and where there was then an empty cabin. Striking out through an "opening," not a "clearing," but a little nook of the prairie, to a spot where it expanded to a magnificent extent, my ferryman, host, and guide, stopped. Pointing to a forest over the prairie, he said,

"Well, stranger, you see yander timber, don't you? You must bear over to that timber, but you must keep it on your right, and so go on that a way, up along the timber, and when you git to the head of it, jist keep round it, tell you come to a house. That's Doctor Field's; the fust house you come to." "How far is it to the Doctor's?"

you can git there agin night; the sun's pretty smart up yet. No danger of findin' it."

66

Well, my friend, how much am I in your debt, for your trouble?"

"O, nothin' at all, you're welcome." "Well, but you've ferried me over, and given me my dinner, and fed my horse in the bargain. I must pay my ferriage."

"O, no. I don't charge nothin' for ferriage. I don't keep no ferry, no how."

"But then you've been hard at work all day for me, you and your hands. Surely you can't afford to work for travellers that way for nothing. I had rather pay you for your trouble."

"I don't want nothin'," he insisted. "But if you're a mind to give the boys somethin' to git tobacco with, you may. I don't want a cent."

"How much?"

66

"O, jist what you please."

"Will this be enough?" showing a dollar, with a sort of feeling that my poverty was my only excuse for offering so small a sum.

"No, no! I aint gwine to take no sich a thing. If you're a mind to give 'em two bits, you may, jist for the boys; that 'll be plenty."

So I made a raise of two bits and departed. Well, thought I, Judge Hall is justified in his story of a somewhat similar event, and quite similar conduct, of a western frontier man. This man and his two hired men have been at work for my accommodation from the dawn of day to the middle of the afternoon, to say nothing of the meal, and refuse to take more than a quarter of a dollar for it; and that, not for himself, but as a gratuity to them. Here we have a specimen of Western manners.

I navigated the sandy prairie, as trackless as the ocean, (and almost as billowy, in a small way, with Gopher hills,) in safety; and it was not yet sunset when I came to the lonely habitation of Dr. Field, and was entertained with the elegant hospitality of a high-bred Virginia family.

LOVE.

BY D. H. BARLOW.

WHAT is love but the magnetic force of the spiritual universe? How doth it bring the soul into mystic union with other souls, and work continually this marvel, that the spirit groweth by all it giveth away,-that by scattering it still increaseth, and by withholding it tendeth