what sorrow I have suffered, in having forsaken you and my home, you would not withhold your pardon. Yet Clodius is kind-I have not one word of complaint to utter."

The Greek, whatever his thoughts might have been, whether of his distant country, or of the elysium to which he believed his spirit was hastening, roused himself at last from his trance, and gazed on the man whom he considered his mortal enemy.

"Forgive you!—a child who has dishonoured my namea man who stole from me her who was once my hope of life? -never!-from my daughter I turn my eyes in loathing, and on my enemy I would fix them in hate and in wrath until they close in death-I curse you both!"

Iōne sprang forwards, and kneeling before the inexorable man, seized his hand, and covered it with her tears.

"Do not curse us, father!-Clodius, at least, does not deserve your curse

י !

"Have you not disgraced me, who, though a lowly man, have the blood of Aristides in my veins?-Are you not the Roman's paramour?"

“Such Iōne shall not remain an hour longer!" exclaimed Clodius, advancing; "her heart is as pure, noble, and good, as ever beat in a bosom covered by patrician or regal robe— I shall be proud to be permitted to call her my wife."

The Athenian heard the words of Clodius, and, faint and bleeding as he was, he started on his feet.

"Roman, pronounce those words again!-art thou in jest? or dost thou but speak to soothe me in my last moments?— Shall I see the tainted flower restored to its purity? the clouded star shine forth again in light?-Speak! that I may forgive, that I may bless you both before I die!"

Clodius, deeply affected, unsheathed his sword: "Greek, you behold this weapon-no Roman worthy the name he

bore, ever yet made an oath on his sword and violated it. Here, then, on this steel I swear, and call the gods whom we worship to witness, that before yonder sun again illumines these heavens, Iōne of Athens, if she so consent, shall be made by every solemn ceremony my lawful wife!"

The girl hung by the robe of the speaker, looking silently into his face, her bosom swelling with gratitude, as much as her heart overflowed with love. The next moment they turned, hand in hand, towards the dying man. He strained his daughter to his breast, and then, extending his hands over both, as they knelt before him, beseeched the gods to make them happy to bless their lot; and thus, as the purple light over the Etrurian Mountains grew more faint and faint, and the stars shone forth like torches to guide the released spirit to Elysian spheres, Iōne's father breathed his last.

LINES.

BY THE HONORABLE GRANTLEY F. BERKELEY.

WHAT calm content in this bright scene!
Home of my earliest love;

How oft have I this sunset seen,
And linger'd in that grove.

The bird which now so blithely sings,
It joys my heart to hear;

And sweetly still the rosebud flings

A perfume on the air.

The dove, beneath her ivy'd bow'r,
Meek from her brooding nest,

As mindful of the peaceful hour,
Scarce heaves her blushing breast.

Each sound that dies in distance free,
Each sweetly scented sigh,
Brings volumes of the past to me-
And breathes of love gone by.

I, tearful, deem that even now,

Those eyes which used to shine, From her too lovely marble brow,

Once more are fix'd on mine.

Intensely gazing there, to trace
A love to last for ever;
A passion-time could ne'er efface-
And death alone should sever.

Away-the dream!-regrets are vain:
The blighted rose that falls,

No summer sun brings back again—
No vernal dew recalls.

Then let my heart to Nature turn-
In Heaven seek relief;

And God shall teach me not to mourn,
Or vex my soul with grief.

MANAGEMENT; OR, THE OLD BACHELOR.

BY CAMILLA TOULMIN.

"When the cat's away,

The mice will play."-OLD PROVERB.

MR. MARMADUKE MOUNTJOY was a single gentleman of a "certain age;" not a certain age in the figurative and common acceptation of the term, which is the most uncertain of all, but literally and truly fifty-two years and three months old, by the parish register, as every body in the parish knew; for thus it fell out. Thirty years before we introduce him to the reader, he had, in a moment of unsuspecting confidence, mentioned the year in which he was born, fixing-branding it on the memory of a gossip who was present, by observing it was the year of some remarkable event, either the flying visit of a great comet, or the fleeting glory of a great victory -I am sure I forget which: but whatever it was it proved a landmark from which to measure; or "data," I believe, is the favourite word with practical people, who deal only with facts. Fifty-two, and single! though rich enough to lavish every luxury on a beloved object; and more-far more than this-generous, kind, affectionate, endowed with every quality that forms that noblest work of God-" an honest man." To be sure he was a little bit crotchetty and eccentric, but "E'en his failings lean'd to virtue's side."

At thirty years of age he had adopted an infant nephew, as a sort of compensation for the injury he had inflicted on him, by happening to be his father's elder brother, and heir to the

family estate. And having loved in his youth "wisely and well," but wept over the early grave of the true mate his heart had found, he had resolved never to profane her memory by making a second choice; and we see how well his resolution had been kept.

But Mr. Marmaduke Mountjoy was not an unhappy man; for however crushing at the time such a misfortune, as that of his youth, it is one which leaves no sting behind. The discontented old maid and querulous bachelor repining at their lot, be sure are those who have never been-perhaps have never deserved to be-truly loved. But the memory of a destiny fulfilled can satisfy the aching void in the heart, and if fate does not accord a second reality of happiness, will be the next best charm to keep the intellect unrusted by the breath of vague longings and disappointed affections. Years passed swiftly with our hero, who was a little bit of a poet, and a great deal of a philanthropist. His greatest weakness was to believe himself very learned as a botanist and entomologist; and I am afraid he had the vanity, in his own heart, to add two or three other ists to the list of his acquirements. Only a week since he had read the advertisement of an intended sale in London of a private collection of curiosities, and Mr. Marmaduke Mountjoy immediately determined on visiting the metropolis, with the hope of enriching one particular shelf in his cabinet of butterflies. He proposed

remaining a week in London, as he wished to spend one day with an old friend, and-to visit the museums; leaving strict injunctions with Frederic Mountjoy and the old housekeeper, to be quiet and orderly in his absence, and to take care that the servants did not run riot, he departed by railway for town, encumbered only with a small carpet-bag; for, as he justly observed, his old friend would excuse his travelling costume, and he should not even offer an apology for thus