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Against its power ; she knew she ought to fly,
But what devoted one would then be nigh,
To watch o'er Julio's melancholy mood,
And save him from the heart's dread solitude ?
Oh! man can never know what treasures lie
Within the quiet depths of woman's soul,
The calm still fortitude that cares to die
Even with a broken heart, yet can control
Each painful murmur. Ada knew she ne'er
Could be aught than his sister, but she hushed
The bitter thoughts that to her young heart rushed:
She knew he marked not that which soon must wear
Her weary life away.

away. A few short

A few short years Of mingled joys and sorrows, hopes and fears, And then they must be parted. He to bear Upon his brow the laurel's fadeless bloomShe to devour awhile the secret tear, And then to sink into the silent tomb. Time passed away, and Ada's bloom had fled ;She felt that soon the city of the dead Would greet her as its habitant; and yet Her youthful bosom breathed not one regret. She feared, if she should live and he depart, Grief might reveal the secret of her heart; But now, while she could listen to his voice, Whose soothing tones bade her sad soul rejoiceNow, while to her his tenderness was given, Death was the dearest boon she sought from heaven. But even this consolation was denied, For chance too soon revealed what maiden pride So long had hidden; pangs that long had slept In Julio's breast were roused—“Have I doomed thee, Mine innocent child, to hopeless misery ?" He clasped her to his bosom, and they wept, Bitterly wept together; then she rose, As though the fountains of her tears were froze Even in their flow ; her arms were round him thrownOne kiss on his pale brow, and she was gone. Days, weeks had passed—it seemed a long long year Since she had fled ; yet from that time he ne'er Learnt aught of her abode—till he was told That she was dying. Ere that heart was cold, Which had loved him so well-ere she was free From earthly cares, she prayed his face to see.

He came-she lay beside the lattice, where
The jasmine too was dying,-wasted there
(Type of her fate) by no rude tempest's strife,
But by the very sun that gave it life!

Her eyes met his,--her band his hand-life's last
And happiest moment—then—the sufferer's spirit past!

1.

LETTER FROM SAMUEL JOHNSON, TO W. S. JOHNSON, LL. D.

[We have this month the pleasure of enriching our pages with an original and very characteristic letter of the great author of the Rambler, which has never yet been published. It was written to his namesake, the late Williain Samuel Johnson of Connecticut. This eloquent and excellent man spent several years in England, about the middle of the last century, as the agent of the colony of Connecticut, and acquired high reputation among the most distinguished political and professional men of Great Britain, by his able management of an important American cause before the lords in counsel. He received the degree of doctor of civil law from the University of Oxford, and this circumstance, together with the accidental similarity of name, recommended him to the acquaintance and friendship of Dr. Samuel Johnson. Several letters passed between them after the American Dr Johnson had returned to his native country ; of which, however, it is feared that this is the only one remaining.

There are few men to whom the learning, the morals, and the best institutions of this country are more deeply and permanently indebted, than they are to William Samuel Johnson, although it unfortunately happens that there is little left which can enable posterity to judge of his talents or acquirements.

The following brief, but accurate outline of his life, is extracted from a recent New-York edition of Lempriere's Biographical Dictionary.

“ Johnson, William Samuel, LL. D. F. R. S. president of Columbia College, New-York, was the eldest son of the Rev. Dr. Samuel Johnson, and born at Stratford, Connecticut, October 7th, 1727. He was graduated at Yale College, in 1744. He studied law, and on his first appearance at the bar distinguished himself, and soon rose to the highest eminence. He was gifted in an unusual degree with the graces of the orator. He possessed a voice of the richest tones, a copious and flowing elocution, a fertile and brilliant fancy, an understanding uncommonly energetic, quick of apprehension, capable of disentangling the most complicated subjects, highly original in its views, and trained to laborious and profound research ; and he had richly stored his mind with elegant literature, and legal science. In 1765, he was elected a delegate to the congress which met that year at New-York, and was its last surviving member. He was also chosen to a seat in the councils of the colony, and was in October, 1766, appointed its agent in England, to defend its interests in the discussion of the claims against it by Mason. While there, he enjoyed an opportunity of forming

many interesting connexions with the learned and illustrious men of that country, the most distinguished of

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whom were among his friends and associates. With Dr. Johnson he maintained a correspondence for many years. After his return to America in 1771, he resumed his professional employments, and was appointed in 1772, a judge of the supreme court of Connecticut. This office he held until 1774, and, during the same period, was one of the commissioners for adjusting the controversy between the proprietors of Pennsylvania and the Susquehannah company. In 1785, he was elected a delegate to the congress of the United States, and in 1787, to the convention which framed the federal constitution. In this august assembly he acted a conspicuous part. His influence was not the less effective for the mildness and the modesty with which it was exerted, and to him the credit of having first proposed the organization of the senate as a distinct branch of the national legislature has been ascribed. Under, this constitution he was appointed one of the senators of Connecticut, and in conjunction with his colleague, Mr. Ellsworth, drew up the bill for establishing the judiciary system of the United States. It was from engagements thus honourable and important that he was called, in 1792, to assuine the presidency of Columbia College. This institution, which had suffered a severe depression during the political contests of past years, was now reorganized, and under the superintendence of Mr. Johnson assumed and maintained an elevated rank among the literary institutions of the country. This station his age and infirmities induced him to relinquish in 1800, when he retired to his native village, and spent the remainder of his life in the enjoyments of literature, the gratification of a beneficent disposition, and the distinguished exemplification of the excellence of the christian character. He died at Stratford, November 14th, 1819, aged 93.''] LETTER FROM SAMUEL JOHNSON, TO W. S. JOHNSON, LL. D.

STRATFORD, CONNECTICUT. Sir-Of all those whom the various accidents of life have brought within my notice, there is scarce any man whose acquaintance I have more desired to cultivate than yours. I cannot indeed charge you with neglecting me, yet our mutual inclination could never gratify itself with opportunities. The current of the day always bore us away from one another, and now the Atlantic is between us.

Whether you carried away an impression of me as pleasing as that which you left me of yourself, I know not: if you did, you have not forgotten me, and will be glad that I do not forget you. Merely to be remembered, is indeed a barren pleasure, but it is one of the pleasures which is more sensibly felt as human nature is more exalted. To make you wish that I should have you in my mind,

I would be glad to tell you something which you do not know : but all public affairs are printed ; and as you and I have no common friends, I can tell you no private history.

The government, I think, grow stronger, but I am afraid the

next general election will be a time of uncommon turbulence, violence and outrage.

Of literature no great product has appeared, or is expected; the attention of the people has for some years been otherwise employed.

I was told a day or two ago of a design which must excite some curiosity. Two ships are in preparation which are under the command of Captain Constantine Phillips, to explore the Northern Ocean ; not to seek the northeast or the northwest passage, but to sail directly north, as near the pole as they can go. They hope to find an open ocean, but I suspect it is one mass of perpetual congelation. I do not much wish well to discoveries, for I am always afraid they will end in conquest and robbery.

I have been out of order this winter, but am grown better. Can I never hope to see you again, or must I be always content to tell you, that in another hemisphere I am, Sir, your most humble servant,

SAN. JOHNSON. Johnson's Court, Fleet Street,

London, March 4, 1773.

THE INDIAN GOD AND THE BAYADEER. [The readers of the Atheneum Magazine are not unacquainted with the merits of the German poet, Goethe. The following ballad is a monument of his friendship for his rival, Schiller. It was written in 1796, for the Almanack of the Muses, a periodical publication, edited by the younger poet. A tradition of the eastern religion, is here made the foundation of a sublime moral; and if we consider for a moment the nature of classic mythology, to which allusions are made without hesitation, we need not take offence at the introduction of superstitions which are incorporated into the faith of a large part of the human family. In France, no less than in Germany, but one opinion has been expressed respecting the value of the original poem. The judgment of Madame de Stael is given at length, in her admirable and interesting work on Germany. She also made an attempt to translate it into French. In this ballad, the eastern fiction is managed with great delicacy and care. No one need fear to approve what Schiller was willing to accept. Iu reading the poem, we are reminded of the honorable friendship of these two most illustrious men. Happy the nation, whose fine writers leave no sources of the beautiful undiscovered ; whose men of genius, free from narrow jealousies, unite in mutual affection and common patriotism, to lay the garlands which they may gather, on the altar of their country.]

Sevas, mighty God of earth,

Comes the sixth time from the skies. VOL. I.

22

And with those of mortal birth

Shares desire, and joy, and sighs.
Veiled in human shape, their Lord

Deigns to dwell with men below,
Will to punish, or reward,

Mortals, as a mortal know.
And when as a pilgrim the town he hath seen,
And hath secretly watched both the rich and the mean,
He leaves it at night, that he further may go.

When to the remotest streets

In his wanderings he had strayed,
One with painted cheeks he meets,

Beauteous, though a ruined maid.
*: Peace be with thee." _“ Welcome here ;

Wait and I'll be at thy side.”
« Who art thou ?” “ A Bayadeer ;

Love and joy with me abide.”
She moves in the dance, and the cymbal she beats,
And gracefully bending, advances, retreats,
And waves the young

flowers in her dark tresses tied. Soft she draws him tow'rds her cell;

“ Youthful pilgrim, come with me;
Come where sorrow cannot dwell;

Bright and blithe my cot shall be.
Art thou faint ? I'll heal thy pain,

Sooth thee of thy weariness :
Claim,—thou wilt not ask in vain,

Slumber, pleasure, or caress.”
She mildly assuages the woes that he feigned;
The mighty one smiles, for her spirit, though stained,
In the depths of corruption can feel for distress.

And the maid become his slave;

But she cheers and strives to please ;
And the charms which art first gave,

Change to nature by degrees.
Where the opening bloom ye find,

Soon the ripened fruit will glow;
Is obedience in the mind,

Love to follow ne'er is slow.
But he, that can fathom the secret design,
Hath chosen, her spirit to prove and refine,

Pleasure, and horror, and heart-rending wo.

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