Page images
PDF
EPUB

their long lashes resting on her soft check, and an ineffable smile was on her slightly parted lips. I did not wonder at Hugh's undisguised look of admiration. She did not see it. She was evidently in some happy dreamland of her own, which harmonized with the soft yet joyful music.

It was a lovely morning, warmer and brighter than May days often are. I lingered after the singing was ended to feast my eyes on the view. The morning sun shone clear on the numerous spires and towers of the city, showing their exquisite proportions and tracery; the gardens, with their glorious trees and bright flowers, relieved the sombre gray of the colleges and halls, and the river flowed still and clear, fringed with its silver willows, through the low meadows gay with the fritellary and other carly flowers; beyond lay green fields and woods, and the blue hills in the far distance. I thought I had never seen it look so beautiful before, it has never looked so beautiful since to me. A shadow fell on my life that day which has never quite passed

away.

thoughts, but soon the organ began a low plaintive voluntary. I tried to harden myself against its influence, but it softened me even against my will, seeming to my excited fancy as if an angel pleaded with me; and as the touching strain continued, my anger vanished, my shame lessened, my heart was melted, and I could pray for help, for strength, for comfort- -pray as we only can pray when our heart's idols are breaking, what we have clung to escaping our grasp, and we feel our utter inability to stand alone. At last tears relieved me, and I rose up, strengthened if not comforted. It was her happiness I had always desired; should I repine because hers was not mine too? I could bear all if Hugh proved worthy, and I would not doubt him; his love for her would make him so, and purify him from his faults; but for me! O God, how should I bear the long blank life from which it seemed to me then all the sunshine had fled for ever?

was hard to bear Hugh's radiant gladness, and almost relief that Jessie looked pale and tearful, and two pre-occupied to notice any change there might be in my looks or manner. She was with her father most of the evening; he was worse than usual, and had kept his room for some days. I saw she had not told him any thing, for he talked cheerfully of indifferent subjects, and he never could keep any thing from me; dear guileless Martin Flemming, he never could dissemble or imagine that others could; in innocence, and faith, and charity, his heart was like a little child's.

I went to my usual duties that morning, doing all mechanically, seeing through every thing the fair downcast face, hearing the I had gone behind one of the buttresses to broken voice murmur to another words I had see better some point of view, when I was madly dreamed of hearing spoken to myself. startled by hearing voices near me, for II went home at night so sad and weary; it thought I had been left alone there. I listened, idly at first, but soon with only too intense an interest-it was Hugh who spoke, and he was telling of fervent love, utter devotion, pleading earnestly and eloquently,and, oh misery! it was Jessie's voice that answered him. I could not hear the broken words at first, but soon, too soon, she confessed that she returned his love. Why did I not die at that moment? words are faint to express what I felt-grief, shame, anger, were all there. I could not move, I could not speak, I could not listen, I could only feel that the hope of my life was gone, my Jessie lost to me forever. I had been so utterly blind and presumptuous, a poor dreaming fool and yet, he could not love her as I loved her, and then came burning indignation against IIugh; why was he ever to thwart and triumph over me? what had I done that I was not to be blessed as other men were? was a mere idle boy indeed more worthy of her than I who had worked and waited so many years? They had long gone down together, the sky had overcast, and the rain and wind were beating against the tower, but I stood there brooding over my wrongs and misery, till the bell began to ring for morning prayers. Even then habit prevailed, and I went down mechanically through the cloisters, and into my place in the chapel. I felt as though I were in a hateful dream, but knew that from this dream there would be no waking, and my heart was full of dark, evil

I could not sleep much that first miserable night, wretched dreams and waking thoughts haunted me. I rose early and went into the little garden Jessie tended so carefully. It was a lovely morning, the sun shone, the birds sang, the flowers I so lately delighted in oppressed me with their gay colors, every thing was in such contrast to myself. I was sitting listlessly on the rude stone bench I had put up there in happier days, when light footsteps startled me, and Jessic seated herself on the grass at my feet; she put up her hand in mine as she always used to do in childish days, she was too shy to look in my face with the old wistful glance, as she said, " Stephen, dear, I want you to help me and tell me what I ought to do." I knew what she would ask me; I had seen in her anxious gaze at her father and then at Hugh the night before how divided she was in her great

love to them both. For a moment I felt as if he must have partly guessed my feelings, he was so confused, and muttered something about my great kindness, and he always avoided being alone with me, and was silent and reserved if we were. He had never liked me, and I could not wonder at it; I had none of the qualities he most prized, and felt it natural enough that he was often ashamed of his shy, awkward, bookworm of a brother.

I could not answer her calmly, but her cold hand trembled so in mine, her half-hidden face was so agitated, I soon thought only of soothing and helping her, as I had always done in her little troubles. I told her (God heard the anguished prayer I offered up for help and courage, or I never could have done it) "that I knew what she would tell me, that she and Hugh loved one another, but that she could not bear to leave her old I studied harder than ever; I was writing father, even to go with him, could hardly a book, interesting only to scholars, more to bear telling him she had thought of it," the force my thoughts from myself and to please fast-falling tears and silent pressure of my Martin Flemming than from any hope of hand told me I had guessed right-" but that fame or reward. He had somewhat revived she must not blame herself for loving Hugh lately, and could sometimes sit for hours in as she did; it was no sin;" here Jessie raised the sunny little garden, where he could hear, her eyes to mine with a glance of happy though faintly, the organ and choristers. He pride through her tears, and said, "did I not hardly seemed to care for any thing now but wonder Hugh could care for such a childish music and his old books, chief amongst them little thing as she was? I was very clever the Bible and Milton. He had unloosened to guess it all so well; she thought I never his soul from earthly cares, and would talk understood such things, and now I would of another life as if he had already partly make every thing straight and easy, as I always did." O Jessie, how your gentle heart would have grieved had you known the pain your innocent words gave me. We talked long together, she told me Hugh was sure his father would gladly consent to his bringing out an English wife, but that he never would be induced to let him settle in England, indeed he had no means to make it possible; my heart sank as I thought of Jessie in a strange land among utter strangers, but she had no misgivings for herself. Hugh was every thing to her, but how should she leave her father? I foresaw a speedy answer to this question, but I had not the heart to tell her how fast I thought Master Flemming was sinking. I knew that grieving for me would sadden his remaining days, if he knew how things stood, so I advised Jessie not to speak, The organ began again, and he sat up to or let Hugh speak to him, till my father an- listen even more eagerly than before, when swered the letter Hugh had written, asking quite suddenly he fell back fainting, I was for his consent to their marriage; letters were much alarmed, but he soon partially recoveranswered but slowly in those days, "and by ed and begged to be taken into the house. that time" Jessie interrupted me to say, He was much better when Jessie and Hugh cheerfully "he may be so much better, came in, but we all saw that a change had there will be no fear of agitating him,”—and come over him, and felt what it meant. He she, childlike, wiped her tears away, and was quite conscious, but did not speak, except sprinkled her cheeks with water from the a few soothing words to Jessie, who sat by his quaint old fountain, that Hugh might not bed, pressing her soft cheek on his withered find her "looking pale and ugly," and then hand, almost stunned, poor child, by the sudflitted like a butterfly amongst her flowers, denness of the blow, for she knew now he gathering a nosegay for her father's room. was dying. Towards the evening he wanShe told me before I left her, that "I had dered a little, and when the chapel bell rung, made her happier, as I always did when I begged to be allowed to go and play the ortalked to her," and it lightened my heavy gan, but a few words soon recalled him to heart to find that I could still do so, and made it more easy for me to shake hands with Hugh, whom I met coming in at the garden gate, and wish him joy. I sometimes think

entered into its peace and joy. We were
sitting together in the garden one bright Sun-
day morning, it was a very calm day, and the
music in the chapel floated to us more dis-
tinctly than I had ever heard it before. Mar-
tin's eye glistened as he sat listening; when
it ceased, he told me one of the voices had
sounded like his dear young wife's. "How I
have pined to hear that sweet voice again,
and it is one of my blessed thoughts that I
shall soon hear it in heaven, never to have it
taken from me. I am glad the Bible
much about music, it seems to make it right
to love it so dearly and feel it a holy thing.
She made me promise before she died that I
would never neglect it in my grief for her,
but always love it for her sake, she knew how
it would comfort me."

says so

himself, and he smiled joyfully, saying "he would hear music no more till he heard the heavenly choir, and his wife's voice singing amongst the angels." He then lay quite still

and we thought he slept, for the bright smile was still on his face, but it was sleep from which he woke no more in this world, his guileless spirit passed away to heaven that calm, starry night.

I will not dwell on the mournful days that followed; it was Jessie's first real sorrow, and her grief was terrible for a time, - God forgive me that even then it made mine so much more unbearable that it was Hugh who comforted her, Hugh who first won a smile by talking of brighter days to come, of a love stronger, deeper than that of a father's, and her cheek became less pale, and her tears flowed more quietly as she listened.

How, at that time, I envied my dear master's quiet rest in the grave! he needed me no more, there was no one left to miss me if I died the only one who had ever really prized my love was gone, and my life seemed darker than ever.

smile up in Hugh's face, and bid him "not think she repented going anywhere, leaving any thing, with him."

I never saw her again, and never may in this world, but her every look and tone still dwells in my memory, never to be effaced from it, till I see her again in heaven.

I had a long illness after this, the exertions I had made were more than my weak frame could bear. I hoped and prayed that I might die, but God in His mercy spared me, to learn resignation and submission to His will, and in the long days and nights of pain and weary loneliness that followed, I trust I learned to submit my will to His, and know and love Him as my friend.

I recovered, though slowly. I had to leave the familiar house where all my happiest days were spent, for my rooms in the College; my books were still with me, and, after a time I found interest in them and in my duties, and every day my past life became more like a dream, and my sorrow less acute.

The days went by, Jessie's step was regaining its lightness and her voice its gay tone. It vexed me to see that, after a little, In due time a letter came from Jessie; Hugh grew impatient of her grief, and hardly what a strange thrill the writing gave me, concealed that he was so, and she, woman- and I thought of the time when I taught her like, would meekly conceal all traces of it little hand to trace the letters, and her merry when he was by, trying to be just as she was laugh when her curls would fall on the paper when she first won his love. It sometimes and blot out the strange misshapen characters. frightened me to see the intensity of her ut- It was a very happy letter, full of Hugh's virter devotion to him; he loved her, too, but tues and kindness, "and how popular he was, there was the old imperiousness in his very and how proud she felt to be his wife, and love. His father's willing consent to his mar-how unworthy;" and there were affectionate riage came all too soon, and Hugh's impa- words for me, too, and promises never to fortience was not to be withstood. A ship was get my brotherly love and counsels, all writsoon going out, they were to be married im- ten in her simple, childlike, loving way. I mediately, and sail in her. The letter was was happier for a time after that letter, and kind, and, for Hugh's sake, if not for her own, those that followed for some months, but after I trusted they would receive his wife lovingly. that, it seemed to me there was a tinge of As the time drew near, Jessie needed all my sadness in them, deepening more and more. powers of sympathy and consolation to sooth" She was not so strong as she had been, and her mingled hopes and fears; and I would Hugh was often away, and when he was at not fail her when she needed me, though none home she was much alone, because she was can tell what agony was in my heart to part not able to be as gay as he was, and he would with her, my little, tender, gentle Jessie, to grow dull staying in alone with only her;"part with her, too, probably for ever! it then there was a long pause, and I heard seemed more than I could bear. It was well nothing, and when a letter did come in the the last days were hurried; had that wretch- dear hand, it was so unsteady and different ed time lasted longer I should have broken from the usual clear writing, I hardly recog down altogether; as it was, I went through nized it. "She had been very ill, and Hugh it all calm, unflinching, even that most miser- would not let her write letters, because, he able day of all which made her Hugh's wife, said, it tired her; he did not know how she and on which he bore her away from me for-liked to write to me, and think and talk of ever. How she wept when we parted, and the dear old home, or he would not have presobbed out that no one could ever be so pa- vented her; she did so long to see it again, tient and good to her as I had been, and that and thought she might yet get strong again she would never, never forget me; and if Hugh could spare time and money to bring though he spoke to her gently, I saw the her back there for a little, but this he could dark shade on Hugh's face as he led her not do, and he said she was getting quite well away; her pale childlike face turned tow- again, but she did not think so herself." Then ards me, her loving eyes uplifted to mine, but she went on to say "she feared she had not even before she passed the door she tried to prized her old peaceful happy home, and the

tenderness and care she had ever met there, as she ought to have done, and prayed me to forgive her seeming ingratitude; she understood better now how precious and rare such constant loving care was." Poor Jessie, her artless words showed but too plainly that the sorrows and trials which I would gladly have given my life to save her from had come upon her-perhaps, to be borne only for a short time; and when I thought what misery every neglect or unkindness would be to her gentle, clinging heart, I almost hoped it might be so; but oh as I sat by my lonely fireside, and pondered over what was and what might have been, it seemed hard that my cherished flower had been taken from me to droop and wither in a strange land; what would I give to be near her, to help and comfort as of old, - but God's ways are not as our ways, and He was preparing joy and love for her such as I could not give, for it was the perfect joy and perfect love we may only find in heaven. I watched and waited wearily through that long, dark winter for tidings from C, but my heart misgave me when the wished-for letter came, for it was from Hugh. I knew what he had to tell me before I read, for as I hastily opened the letter a tress of golden hair dropped at my feet. What fond memories turned round that sunny curl,-the little laughing child running to meet me, her hair streaming in the wind-the fair girl resting her head on her father's knee, his hand fondly parting the drooping curls-the sad weeping orphan, her hair hanging disordered over her black dress-the proud young wife, smilingly bidding her husband notice how "she had put away all her long locks under her bonnet, because it made her look less like a child"-all her winning looks and ways came back upon me. Jessie, my own cherished darling, was this to be the end of all? Bitter tears dropped on the precious lock of hair, and for a time I could find no comfort. Poor Hugh! if his affection for her had

ever grown less, her death had revived it; his letter was written in great grief, and bitter self-reproach that he had never seen how ill she was, and had so often left her lonely, he dwelt on her meek patience through all her sufferings, and gentleness to all. She spoke of me nearly at the last, and bid them send me a lock of her hair, with her dear love. She seemed quite happy and peaceful from the time they told her that she must die, only anxious to comfort Hugh, and delighting in his tender cares for her, though they come too late to save.-he said he felt now how utterly unworthy he had proved himself of the treasure that had been given to his keeping, and that he felt I never could forgive him.

When my sorrow had grown more calm, I wrote to him such words of comfort and brotherly sympathy as I thought he would like best, but the answer (which was long of coming) was constrained and short, the repentant mood had evidently left him, and I fear his misfortune only left him a colder, harder man. I did not often hear of him after this; he married again, and has grownup sons and daughters, all strangers to me.

Since that mournful winter my life has glided by calmly and uneventfully, and it has not been unhappy. All the sadness has faded from the old memories, and they have made many a solitary hour seem not lonely. I have always remained poor and weak, but I have been enabled to be of use to those poorer than myself, freely giving the instruction they could not afford to pay for, and the gratitude (if not the affection) of many has cheered my path. I am old and failing now, and may humbly hope that soon this worn-out frame will rest under the stones of the cloister, where in life I so often lingered, and my spirit join those I loved so deeply and lost so long ago, in that bright world where parting and sorrow are unknown.

[merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small]

[The term "shagreen" when applied to silk and not to the prepared skin of fish or beasts, was a kind of taffeta, and is an Anglicized form of the French chagrin, which is also used to signify a sort of silk, as well as prepared skin. Referring to silk, shagreen does not appear to indicate color, or strictly speaking quality; but rather intimates the grained or pimpled fabric of the silk, resembling the sort of skin or leather which was called shagreen, and formerly much more used than at present.]-Notes and Queries.

From The Examiner. Travels in Peru and Mexico. By S. S. Hill. Longmans.

indeed equally, and in some instances even more felt by the lower animals of the creation than by ourselves. The horses and mules of the plains in the mountains in a given time, as they can in cannot for some time travel the same distances the plains, nor bear the same burdens in the sierra which they are accustomed to bear in their own climes. When, however, they are brought from the lower country to the higher, and have great care taken of them, they generally, after a few months, become tolerably acclimatized, and perform nearly the same labor as those bred in the elevated regions.

THE sensible author of some interesting "Travels in Siberia," having passed from the Society Islands to Valparaiso, begins at the port of Valparaiso his new narrative. Having described Valparaiso briefly, he journeys with his reader to the capital of Chili, and while there not only tells what he saw and heard at Santiago, but prefaces his information with a brief sketch of the history and present state of the republic of Chili. of the rarefied air are so much more remarkable "If it should cause surprise that these effects Returning then to Valparaiso, Mr. Hill em- here than any experienced in Europe, it must barks for Islay on an English steamer, and be remembered that during the journey which I touches, upon the way, at sundry ports, am about to narrate, we have to pass over which he describes as he proceeds. Islay is heights, four or five thousand feet above the the proper port of Arequipa, the city founded peak of Mont Blanc, and that too in the torrid by Pizarro, second only to Lima in import- zone. One indeed of the cities we shall by and ance among towns of Peru. The way through by visit, is situated at about the same height as desert and defile to Arequipa having been the summit of that mountain." described, a couple of chapters are devoted Cuzco, the capital of the mountain region to the town itself, in which the traveller re- of Peru, is itself eleven or twelve thousand sided for a month. In company with two feet above the level of the sea. Mr. Hill's gentlemen of Arequipa, Mr. Hill visited the account of this place is prefaced by a very mineral baths of Yura before, having become good summary of what is known of the civsufficiently accustomed to the air of the high ilization of the subjects of the Incas, who regions, he proceeded towards Cuzco. The held in that city despotic rule as representanecessity for becoming acclimatized to the tives of deity. Mr. Hill endorses an opinion mountain air of the Andes is thus expressed: common in Peru that the rule in their own "If the traveller happen to be of a plethoric land will eventually be regained by the dehabit of body, the disease is likely to be most scendants of the old Peruvians, who are insevere. It is then commonly attended with ver- creasing in number and intelligence, while tigo, dimness of sight, difficulty of hearing, and the white and creole population is diminishoften a flow of blood from the eyes and the nose, ing in number, and for many generations has and sometimes even from the lips, and violent not increased in intelligence or industry. pains in the head, and vomiting. But with From Cuzco visits were paid to the vale of travellers of a spare habit of body and not very Vilcamayu and the other remarkable places strong, it is more likely to cause fainting fits ac-in its neighborhood before travelling onward companied with spitting of blood. With per- in the Andes to Puno, an important city sons, however, in good health, the symptoms are rarely more than vomiting; and more frequently they are confined to weariness and difficult respiration such as I have mentioned both my companions and myself experienced.

"As it has been observed that the disease is more prevalent in the districts where the metals most abound, there is an impression among the inhabitants, that it arises from, or is greatly exaggerated by the metallic exhalations which are supposed to fill the atmosphere of these regions. This has doubtless, however, arisen from the disease prevailing most among those who come in search of metals, which may be accounted for by the fact that they are generally persons unaccustomed to the atmosphere of the mountains, and the most exposed of any to fatigue. There can be little doubt, indeed, of its proceeding in every form in which it appears, entirely from the diminished pressure of the atmosphere, the effects of which every one experiences in one way or another upon attaining any considerable ele

vation.

"These effects of the rarefied atmosphere are not confined to the human species. They are,

near the banks of the lake Titicaca. At Puno as at Arequipa and Cuzco there is no hotel, and the traveller being in this place without letters of introduction established himself of nights on the bare ground in the unfurnished cell of a caravansary, occupied by mules and arrieros. Here the author heard accounts of the strange uncaught beast in whom Peruvians believe.

"We have had on this side the Atlantic, our unicorns, no clear evidence of the existence of which has I believe come down to our time. In Peru, it is commonly believed, that there exists an animal in the forests, of one of the mammillary species, which no one for centuries has been able to capture.

66

According to the accounts given by the Indians of this animal, it seems to have been known in the country long before the arrival of the Europeans, and had, at some remote time, been taken ard examined. Whether these accounts, hower, are the sole source of the impression concerning it is not very well known.

« PreviousContinue »