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The night drew on- the air was still,
Homeward the Fisher climbed the hill.
All day he'd thought, "She will not go;'
And now "She has not," pondered he.
"She is not gone," he said.
"I know
"There is a lamp in our window,
"Put ready on the sill

"To guide me home, and I shall see
"The dear light glimmering presently,
"Just as I round the hill."

But when he turned, there was no light

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To guide him homeward through the night.
Then I am late," he said,
"And, maybe, she was weary
"Looking so long for me.

"She lays the little ones in bed
Well content,

"In the inner room, where I shall find her, "And where she went,

"Forgetting to leave the light behind her."

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"Ran after, crying, "Take us to the sea! "Wait for us, Mammy, we are coming too!

"Here's Alice, Willie, can't keep up with you!
"Mammy, stop-just for a minute or two!
"But Alice said, ' Maybe

"She's making us a boat
"Out of the seal-skin cleverly,
"And by and by she'll float
"It on the water from the sands

"For us.' Then Willie clapt his hands "And shouted, Run on, Mammy, to the sea, "And we are coming. Willie understands.'

"At last we came to where the hill

"Slopes straight down to the beach, "And there we all stood breathless, still, "Fast clinging each to each. "We saw her sitting upon a stone, "Putting the little seal-skin on.

"Oh! Mammy! Mammy!

"She never said good-bye, Daddy, "She didn't kiss us three;

"She just put the little seal-skin on "And slipped into the sea!

"Oh! Mainmy's gone, Daddy-Mammy's gone! "She slipped into the sea!"

E. KEARY.

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1

THE MONCRIEFF GUN-CARRIAGE. AUTUMN VIOLETS, ETC. 671

From The Examiner.

THE MONCRIEFF GUN-CARRIAGE.

THE difference between a discovery and an invention is, that whereas the one implies a revelation, the other is simply an application. Columbus, Galileo, and Harvey were discoverers; but although steam and electricity are as old as America, the planetary systems, and the circulation of the blood, the conversion of those agents into a motive and communicating power is only the skilful adaptation of an existing and recognised force to a practical purpose. Whether the man who discovers a new Continent is a greater benefactor to mankind than he who utilises a known but wasted element, may be an open question; but certain it is, that the simplicity of the principles upon which modern inventions are founded is apt to detract from the merit of inventors, and men say to themselves, as they said to Columbus when he flattened the point of the egg, 66 Oh, we could have done the same thing, if we had only thought of it."

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Captain Moncrieff's gun-carriage is one of these very simple inventions. It has long been known that the power of the recoil of a gun is equal to that of the explosion at the muzzle, and Captain Moncrieff has laboured for ten years with a view of turning that power, hitherto wasted, to profitable account. His time has not been lost, for few modern experiments connected with gunnery have been so completely successful as those which lately took place in presence of the Commander-in-Chief, and the most distinguished artillerists in our army, at Shoeburyness, to test "the practical working of his carriage.' We need hardly remark that the protection of a gun, and of those who serve it, is one of the greatest difficulties to be met in modern warfare. For this we are building iron-plated ships, and arming our ports and batteries with iron shields, at an incalculable cost, and with some diffidence as to the result. For the details of Captain Moncrieff's invention we refer our readers to the reports published in the Times and other papers. We will only say, in a few words, that his proposal is to place his gun in a circular pit, the muzzle, when elevated, being on a level with its mouth. From this position it could be pointed in any direction. On being fired, the recoil depresses the breech to a certain level, when it is caught and loaded, and, on the catch being withdrawn, it reverts at once to its former position by its own weight. The rapidity of fire is marvellous, and the only danger to which guns or gunners can possibly be exposed is from a shell being thrown into the pit.

There can be no doubt that for defensive purposes the invention will prove invaluable, whether on land or at sea; and we are glad to notice that the military authorities are, for once, unanimous in a generous recognition of the merit of such an innovation, although it springs, not from a professional soldier, but an officer of Militia. The War Office is, it is said, equally well disposed, and it is hoped that, pending further ex

periments, the threatened expenditure for iron shields will be deferred.

AUTUMN VIOLETS.

KEEP love for youth, and violets for the spring :
Or if these bloom when worn-out autumn grieves,
Let them lie hid in double shade of leaves,
Their own, and others dropped down withering;
For violets suit when home birds build and sing,
Not when the outbound bird a passage cleaves;
Not with the stubble of mown harvest sheaves,
But when the green world buds to blossoming.
Keep violets for the spring, and love for youth,
Love that should dwell with beauty, mirth, and
hope:
Or if a later sadder love be born,
Let this not look for grace beyond its scope,
But give itself, nor plead for answering truth -
A grateful Ruth tho' gleaning scanty corn.
CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI.

Macmillan's Magazine.

THE following poem, a translation from the German of Schiller by Lord Lytton, derives an additional interest from the fact that it was a favorite of the late Governor Andrew, who recited it after a dinner at the headquarters of the camp at Readville, on the 5th of February, 1865. Daily Advertiser.

INTO my heart a silent look
Flashed from thy careless eyes,
And what before was shadow took
The light of summer skies.

A first-born love was in that look-
The Venus rose from out the deeps
Of thine inspiring eyes.

My life, like some sad lonely spot
A spirit passes o'er,
Grew instinct with a glory, not

In earth or heaven before;
Sweet trouble stirred the haunted spot,
And shook the leaves of every thought,
Thy spirit wandered o'er.

My being yearned and crept to thine
As though in time of yore
My heart had been a part of thine

And claimed it back once more.
Thy very self, no longer thine,

Was merged in that delicious life,
That made us one of yore.

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CHAPTER X.

THE GOOD HOST.

WHEN a man has laid open his whole history to another, he often seems to himself emptied, hollow, and void,-what is left of him? how small and contemptible he appears! But it was quite otherwise with Eric. From a tower below in the valley rang clear a silver-toned midnight bell, hung there in ancient times by a noble lady, to guide the lost wanderer in the forest to a human dwelling. Eric heard it, and saw in fancy the confessional in the church, with its believers bending before it, or passing out into the world again made strong by its blessing. He had confessed to a man whose life was consecrated by a pure spirit, and felt himself not impoverished, but elevated and strengthened, armed with selfknowledge for every relation of life.

had shown his household in what honor he held his guest; this room had been occupied by the Prince a few days before. Eric then gazed long on a bust of Medusa, fascinated by the grand, powerful, beautiful face; on the head with its wildly disordered locks were two wide-spread wings; below the heavy frowning brow gleamed the great death-dealing eyes; the mouth was haughtily curved, and on the lips lay scornful, defiant words; under the chin two snakes were knotted together like a kerchief. The aspect of the head was at once repulsive and fascinating,

Opposite the Medusa stood a cast of the Victory of Rauch, that wonderful countenance recalling the face of Queen Louisa, the noble head with its garland of oakleaves not raised, but bent as if in thought and self-control... A strange pair were those two busts! but there was no more time to dwell upon them. Eric was overcome by sleep, but woke again after a few hours, when day had scarcely dawned.

There are hours and days of joyous and

He opened the window, and inhaled the cool, fragrant air of night. Over the valley hung a thin mist; the clocks in the villages struck midnight, and the Wolfsgarten clock chimed in sweet and low. Eric re-buoyant feeling, as if we had found the signed himself to the influence of nature's life and power as it presses upward in the tree-trunks, moves in the branches and refreshes every bud. In the distance rolled a railway train. The nightingales sang loudly, then suddenly ceased as if overpowered by sleep.

In nebulous forms, familiar and strange figures gathered around Eric. How much he had experienced in this one day, though he had not yet crossed the threshold of the house where perhaps his future lot was cast! He had reviewed his past life, and had found a home of which he had not dreamed yesterday. Ah, how great and rich is the world, and true comrades live in it waiting only for our summons and the greeting of friendly eyes!

All the fulness of life in the immortality of nature and the human spirit flooded Eric's being. He felt a blessed elation; he had given up his life, it was taken from him; he was freed from self, and lived and soared in the infinite.

The moon rose over the mountains, a whispering thrill rustled through the wood, the nightingale sang loud again, the mists rose from the valley and vanished, and one broad beam glittered on a glass dome in the distance. There lay Villa Eden.

Only after a vigorous resistance Eric finally yielded to weariness and closed the window. A black trunk marked with the crest of Prince Leonhard first attracted his notice, and he smiled to see how Clodwig

key to all hearts; as if we held in our hands the magic wand which reveals all living springs, and brings us near to every soul as to a friend and a brother. The world is purified, the soul pervaded by the deep feeling of unalloyed blessedness, which is nothing but breathing, living, loving.

Encompassed by such an atmosphere. Eric stood at the window and looked out over the river to the mountains beyond, the castles, the towns, the villages, on the banks and on the heights. Everywhere thou art at home, thou art living in a beautiful world. He went at once into the open air, and strode on not as if he were walking, but as if borne onward by some ineffable power. Drops of rain from the last night's storm hung upon the tender green of the foliage, on the grass and flow ers; no breeze stirred the air, and fre quent rain-drops, like a sudden shower, pattered down from the overhanging branches. A ray of sunlight now gleams upon every leaf and twig, and awakens an inexpressible movement; the blackbird sings in the copse, and with his clear, shrill tone is heard far above all the interming ling chorus of melodies.

Eric stood motionless near a covered pavilion on the very ridge of the mountain, and gazed long at a kite hovering with outspread wings over the summit, and then letting itself down into the wood on the other side of the river. What made him think at that moment of Herr Sonnen

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Mrs.

camp? Was it envy and dread of the little bird, whom evil tongues called a bird of prey; and has he not the right to live according to his might?

Eric's thoughts were wafted toward the boy, longing to mingle in his dreams, and whisper to him, I am coming to thee. He endeavored for a long time to get sight of the glass dome, but it was nowhere visible. He went away from the river to an elevated plain, from which there was again a view of valleys, heights, and mountains.

He stood in the midst of an extensive field, and for the first time saw a vineyard which was just being planted. The laborers held implements, like augurs, in their hands, and making with them holes in the loose earth, they set out the young shoots in rows.

He saluted the laborers, and they answered him cheerfully, feeling from the sound of his voice that he greeted every stranger as a brother. He inquired how long it would be before the first vintage, and when an old man answered clearly all his questions, he felt a new refreshment.

This conversation brought him back from his state of excitement, back from his wandering into the infinite, again to the earth. He went away expressing his thanks, and realising that he must bring this strain of lofty feeling into subjection to actual life. He met laborers who were going to a limestone quarry. He joined them, and learned that this also belonged to the count, who had leased all his lands, not retaining for himself even the management. Receiving a friendly greeting from the overseer, he was shown a manufactory of cement near by, and saw paving-tiles from excellent patterns of the time of the Renaissance, which Clodwig had recommended, and which found a ready sale.

66

Eric returned to the Castle, refreshed by the breath of nature as well as by this glance into actual human life. A servant told him that the count was expecting him. Clodwig, already fully dressed for the day, took his guest by the hand, saying, "I shall ask you by and by many questions, but only one now: did your father despair at the last, or how shall I express it? did he die in the belief of an orderly and progressive unfolding of the social and moral world?"

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of violence. "My son," he said, "my heart thrills with joy, when I contemplate how in this century a beauty, a freedom, and a brotherly love unfold themselves which existed to us only in the germ. As one example, my son, see how the State now educates its children, and does it in a way that no Solon, no Socrates, ever could imagine. Thou wilt live in a time when it will hardly be conceived that there were slaves, serfs, bondmen, monopolies, and the whole trumpery of a false world."

66

Eric added how happy it made him, that his father had departed in such a cheerful mood, and that he, as a son, could so fully enter into his hopes, and carry them out into life. He spoke in such an excitable manner, that Clodwig placed his hand on his shoulder and said, We will not, in the morning, take such a distant flight." He expressed also his satisfaction that he could enter so fully into the life of the coming generation, for he had always been troubled lest he might lose all hold upon the new time.

66

"We have had our morning devotions, now let us go to breakfast," he said, turning round easily as he got up from his seat. Yet one more question: did your father never explain to you what occurred at his sudden-you know what I mean-loss of favor at court?"

"Certainly; my father told me the whole, circumstantially."

"And did he not forbid you to speak of it to any one?"

"To others, but not to you." "Did he mention me by name?" "No, but he expressly enjoined it upon me to inform those whom I honored with my whole soul, and so I can tell you."

66

Speak rather low," Clodwig enjoined, and Eric went on.

"My father, in that last interview which no one knew anything about, was to have received from the hand of the sovereign a title of nobility, in order that he might be appointed to an oflice at court. He said to the sovereign, Your highness, you make null the blessing of the long years in which I have spent my best strength in the education of my youthful prince, if you think I accept this on my own account, or that I regard it as something belonging to the age in which we live.' 'I do not make a jest of such things,' the prince replied. Neither do I,' said my father.

Eric then depicted in vivid language derived from his own recollections, and under the inspiring influence of his morning's ex- "Years after, his lips trembled as he relahilaration, how his father, on the last night ted this to me, and he said, that that moof his life, congratulated his son that he was ment, when he stood face to face with his born into the new age, which need no long-pupil speechless, was the bitterest moment er exhaust itself against opposing forms of his life."

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CHAPTER X.

THE GOOD HOST.

had shown his household in what honor he held his guest; this room had been occupied by the Prince a few days before. WHEN a man has laid open his whole his- Eric then gazed long on a bust of Medusa, tory to another, he often seems to himself fascinated by the grand, powerful, beautiemptied, hollow, and void, what is left of ful face; on the head with its wildly disorhim? how small and contemptible he ap-dered locks were two wide-spread wings; pears! But it was quite otherwise with below the heavy frowning brow gleamed Eric. From a tower below in the valley the great death-dealing eyes; the mouth rang clear a silver-toned midnight bell, hung there in ancient times by a noble lady, to guide the lost wanderer in the forest to a human dwelling. Eric heard it, and saw in fancy the confessional in the church, with its believers bending before it, or passing out into the world again made strong by its blessing. He had confessed to a man whose life was consecrated by a pure spirit, and felt himself not impoverished, but elevated and strengthened, armed with selfknowledge for every relation of life.

He opened the window, and inhaled the cool, fragrant air of night. Over the valley hung a thin mist; the clocks in the villages struck midnight, and the Wolfsgarten clock chimed in sweet and low. Eric resigned himself to the influence of nature's life and power as it presses upward in the tree-trunks, moves in the branches and refreshes every bud. In the distance rolled a railway train. The nightingales sang loudly, then suddenly ceased as if overpowered by sleep.

In nebulous forms, familiar and strange figures gathered around Eric. How much he had experienced in this one day, though he had not yet crossed the threshold of the house where perhaps his future lot was cast! He had reviewed his past life, and had found a home of which he had not dreamed yesterday. Ah, how great and rich is the world, and true comrades live in it waiting only for our summons and the greeting of friendly eyes!

All the fulness of life in the immortality of nature and the human spirit flooded Eric's being. He felt a blessed elation; he had given up his life, it was taken from him; he was freed from self, and lived and soared in the infinite.

The moon rose over the mountains, a whispering thrill rustled through the wood, the nightingale sang loud again, the mists rose from the valley and vanished, and one broad beam glittered on a glass dome in the distance. There lay Villa Eden.

Only after a vigorous resistance Eric finally yielded to weariness and closed the window. A black trunk marked with the crest of Prince Leonhard first attracted his notice, and he smiled to see how Clodwig

was haughtily curved, and on the lips lay scornful, defiant words; under the chin two snakes were knotted together like a kerchief. The aspect of the head was at once repulsive and fascinating,

Opposite the Medusa stood a cast of the Victory of Rauch, that wonderful countenance recalling the face of Queen Louisa, the noble head with its garland of oakleaves not raised, but bent as if in thought and self-control... A strange pair were those two busts! but there was no more time to dwell upon them. Eric was overcome by sleep, but woke again after a few hours, when day had scarcely dawned.

There are hours and days of joyous and buoyant feeling, as if we had found the key to all hearts; as if we held in our hands the magic wand which reveals all living springs, and brings us near to every soul as to a friend and a brother. The world is purified, the soul pervaded by the deep feeling of unalloyed blessedness, which is nothing but breathing, living, loving.

Encompassed by such an atmosphere, Eric stood at the window and looked out over the river to the mountains beyond, the castles, the towns, the villages, on the banks and on the heights. Everywhere thou art at home, thou art living in a beautiful world. He went at once into the open air, and strode on not as if he were walking, but as if borne onward by some ineffable power. Drops of rain from the last night's storm hung upon the tender green of the foliage, on the grass and flowers; no breeze stirred the air, and frequent rain-drops, like a sudden shower, pattered down from the overhanging branches. A ray of sunlight now gleams upon every leaf and twig, and awakens an inexpressible movement; the blackbird sings in the copse, and with his clear, shrill tone is heard far above all the intermingling chorus of melodies.

Eric stood motionless near a covered pavilion on the very ridge of the mountain, and gazed long at a kite hovering with outspread wings over the summit, and then letting itself down into the wood on the other side of the river. What made him think at that moment of Herr Sonnen

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Mass.

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