of governess, &c. &c. in the house of the Mynheer Schlachenbruchen. The visitors of the family avoided her as though she had the plague, (even the Mynheer himself preserved a distance); and the consequence was, that Vivian -himself rather looked down upon by the colonial aristocracy-felt himself drawn nearer to the friendless girl, and assiduously cultivated her good opinion. Spare your pity," returned the lady: "we have neither of us much to thank Fortune for. Yet you are content, or seem so; and so also can I be. We will talk on another subject." "S'death!" exclaimed the other, recollecting his incognito; "I had forgot. Pardon me-I was a fool. You will think me mad, with my offers of help, and my shew of pity; but it is not so: I am sane enough, and some of these days you shall confess it. Come,-will you not go with us up the river? We are to run up almost as far as the Sandhills to-morrow, to visit the Reynestein estate and the Palm-Groves, which belong to the rich Englishman, Vivian. Perhaps you were never there?" "I was born there," was the reply; and it was somewhat tremulously uttered. This, however, was not a thing to be so easily attained. Sophie Halstein (for that was her name) had few of the qualities commonly ascribed to thriving governesses: she was, indeed, an acute minded and even accomplished girl; but she was as little supple, demure, or humble, as Vivian himself. In fact, she received our hero's advances with indifferent cordiality at first; but the magic of sincerity will win its way; and they accordingly, at last, became excellent friends. The thing which surprised our hero most was-how it was possible for the dull, gross unenlightened blockheads of the colony to "How, madam ?" Vivian was forfeel, or even affect, a disdain for one getting himself again, at this attack on who was evidently so much their supe- his uncle's memory: but he hastened rior. At last the truth came upon him: to recover. "I mean the last owner," She was the child of a quadroon! he resumed, "whose name was, I think She was lovely, graceful, virtuous, in--Morson." "Ha! then you will be delighted to visit the spot, no doubt. Did you know the late proprietor?" "Too well," said she; "he was—a villain." tellectual, accomplished, modest, -a "I knew him, sir; and as I have said, model for women; but she had a particle (scarcely apparent, indeed, but still there was a particle or two)-a few drops of blood of a warmer tinge than what loiters through the pallid cheeks of an European: and hence she was visited by universal contempt. "Ten thousand curses light on their arrow souls!" was Vivian's first exclamation. "She shall be my friend, ny-my-sister. The senseless brutal wretches!-they little think that, under the mask of Vernon, the wealthiest of their tribe is amongst them, and that he respects the little Pariah beyond the whole of their swollen and beggarly race." A very short time was sufficient for him to form a determination to rescue the object of his admiration from her painful state of servitude. Not being accustomed, however, to deal with the delicacy of ladies, he plunged at once into the matter, with headlong rashness. "You are badly off, Miss Halstein?" said Vivian to her, one morning, in his very bluntest tone. "I do not complain, sir," replied she, coldly. "I am sorry for you," said he, hesitatingly, "and would help you." too well. Do you know by what luck it was that he obtained the PalmGroves? No? Then I will tell you, sir. His predecessor was a careless, easy, and very old man. By a series of unforeseen reverses, by the failure of correspondents, and the roguery of friends, he became involved at last. All that he wanted, however, was a little money for present exigencies; with that, and a course of economy for a few years, he might have retrieved his broken fortunes. His most intimate friend and neighbour was this Morson. Who, then, was more likely than he to help him with a loan of money? He was rich and childless; but the old planter, whom I have spoken of, had one single child-a girl. Pity, therefore, as well as friendship, might move Morson to aid him in his extremity. And he did aid him-at least, he lent him money, at the instigation of his manager "Seyton?" asked Vivian, interrupt. ing her. "Yes, Seyton," replied she, "who coveted the old planter's daughter for a wife, and who thought that, if the parent were ruined, his child would be glad of any refuge. He dreamed that she, who had interfered often between him and his victims, would forget all the old abhorrence, and unite her fate with that of the most barbarous tyrant that ever disgraced even a West Indian colony. Well, sir,-to end this tedious story "It is most interesting to me," said Vivian deeply, deeply interesting," and his glowing eyes and earnest attention were sufficient proofs that he spoke truly. "Well, sir,-the end was, that Morson advanced the money; that Seyton intrigued with the slaves, and caused many of them to revolt and run away into the woods; and that the poor old man fell from trouble into want, and from want into absolute despair. His plantations were useless; his crops perished on the ground for want of slaves; his mills and buildings were burnt by unknown hands: and finally, his hard and avaricious creditor, the relentless Morson, came upon him, and took possession of all his estates, for a debt amounting to one-sixth of their value. The old man," Miss Halstein's voice shook at this part, and betrayed great agitation, "The old man soon afterwards died, and his only child was cast upon the world to earn her bitter bread. This is all, sir. I have given yon the history of one half of Mr. Vivian's property; perhaps the other" (she spoke this with some acrimony) "is held upon a similar tenure." "God forbid!" said Vivian. "But Seyton ?-Did he urge his suit!" "He did, and was refused. And therefore it is (for he is a bad and revengeful man) that I am fearful of coming upon an estate of which he is, essentially, the master. In the absence of Mr. Vivian, his power is uncontrolled; and there is no knowing what claim he might urge against me. He once hinted that I was born a slave on the Palm-Grove estate, and, as such, belonged to his master-I, who am the own daughter of Wilhelm Halstein, to whom all, but a few years ago, belonged." "You!" exclaimed our hero. "Are you the person whom Vivian intercepts? He shall do it no more. Rest content, Miss Halstein. Vivian is not the man to injure any one, and least of all yourself. Go with us to-morrow. I beg, I pray, that you will. I pledge my honour-my soul, that you shall not be a sufferer." ken in the meantime) had also given his solemn promise to protect her, that she consented to go. She was a little surprised, indeed, at Vivian's urging the matter so vehemently, but as the merchant seconded his requests, she could not continue to refuse. A row up the river Demerara, past Diamond Point, to the Sandhills, need not call for any particular description. We will suppose that the party had arrived at the Palm-Grove estate, which the merchant (authorised by a power transmitted by Vivian from England) had come to overlook. The party were introduced to Seyton, a ferocious looking man, of middle age, who, with a mixture of self-consequence and ambiguous civility, welcomed the merchant and his companions. He took no notice of Vivian, indeed, but when he saw Miss Halstein (who leant on our hero's arm) his eyes sparkled and his lip curled, and turning to the merchant, he said hastily, "Before you leave the estate, there is a point of some consequence that I must take leave to mention, respecting this young person," and he touched her, as he spoke, with the point of the cane that he carried in his hand. "Stand off, fellow!" said Vivian, angrily, "another touch, or another insolent word, and I will lay you at my feet." The other started, and examined our hero's appearance, cautiously and sullenly. He saw nothing, however, except an athletic figure and a resolute countenance, and retreated from collison with so formidable an opponent. He did not, however, retreat from his demand. "Observe, Mynheer," said he, addressing the merchant once more"I speak as the agent only of Mr. Vivian. This gentleman will scarcely blame me for insisting on the rights of my principal." "By no means-by no means," replied the merchant. "All in good time. We will talk of that presently. In the mean time, we will look at the balances. After that, we will ask what your larder contains; and then-for the rights you speak of. Eh, Mr. Vernon-is not that the way?" Certainly, certainly," said Vivian. "Miss Halstein will leave all to you; I am quite sure that she may do so safely." The lady still refused, however, and Two or three hours were sufficient it was not till the old merchant (Schla- to overlook the accounts, and to dispose chenbruchen, to whom Vivian had spo- of the refreshments, which were offered with some degree of parade to the visitors, at the expense of the estate.― Vivian ate heartily, and without scruple, of the produce of his own property; and every thing unpleasant seemed forgotten, except by Miss Halstein, when the party (which had been aug mented, as agreed upon, by the arrival of the Syndic, from Stabroek) prepared to go. "Now," said Seyton, "I must once more draw your attention to my demand. I claim this lady, if you will,—as a slave. She was born on the estate, has never been made free, and belongs of right to my principal, Vivian." "Bah? man," exclaimed the merchant; "I thought all that was past. Surely, good wine and excellent Nantz must have washed all such bad thoughts out of your head. Come, let us go. Sophie, girl, take hold of Mr. Vernon's arm, and "By your leave, it must not be so," said Seyton, imperatively. He rung a bell, and eight or ten black slaves appeared. "You are at liberty to go, gentlemen; but the lady remains with me. Have I not the law with me?" added he, addressing the Syndic. That officer assented, adding, how ever, that all depended on the will of Vivian. The lady might, indeed, be entitled to her liberty; but until she proved her freedom, she must remain the property of the planter. "That is sufficient," said Seyton, "I am Vivian's representative.". "Then I am lost," exclaimed Sophie. "Pardon me," replied the Syndic, "Mr. Seyton is superseded. Mynheer, here, has the power of appointing a manager over this property. Besides which, Mr. Vivian himself has arrived at Stabroek-” "Ha!" said Seyton, " then no time is to be lost. Superseded or not, Mr. Vivian shall not lose his property. Do your duty, fellows," added he, addressing the slaves, "Seize upon that woman, in the name of your master, Vivian." "Back, I say," said our hero, pulling out a brace of pistols, and pointing them towards the advancing negroes. "Back, men, and be wise. And you, Mr. Manager, or whatever you are,take heed how you overstep your duty. Know, sirrah, that your master does not think your false accounts the worst part of your bad history. Your cruelty to these poor slaves beneath you, has come to his ears; and for that he dismisses you his service. For your impudent and unfounded claim upon this lady, whom your master loves-" "What!" exclaimed Sophie: but the merchant restrained her surprise. "Whom your master loves, wooes, and whom-if heaven is propitious (he says this doubtingly and humbly) he will win-For this atrocious insult there is no punishment great enough. Yet, if any attempt be made upon her, you shall at least be chastised to your heart's content. Be satisfied that I do not jest, and remain quiet." "We are all armed, Mr. Seyton," said the merchant; you had better let us depart quietly." "She shall not go,” replied Seyton, foaming with rage." Once more seize upon her, men: seize upon her for your master, Vivian. Till he comes, I will be obeyed at least." "He is here!" said Vivian, rushing between Sophie and her adversaries; "He is here: he overlooks you, and will punish you. Look, slaves, I AM VIVIAN, your master! Obey me, as you value the liberty which every man on my estate shall have if he deserve it." "What he says is true. This is, indeed, Mr.Vivian," said the merchant; and the Syndic corroborated his tale. All was quiet in an instant. Yet Sophie Halstein still looked overcome."What is this?" inquired the merchant: "You ought to be rejoiced." "I am," she replied. "But, Mr. Vivian, you have something to forget. Can you forgive me." "I cannot," answered Vivian; "unless with the Palm-Groves, (which from this moment is all your own) you take an incumbrance with it." "And that is-?" said Miss Halstein, enquiringly. "It is myself, Sophie," replied Vivian, tenderly. "Prithee, be generous, and think what a way I have wandered from home. Take pity on me, and give me shelter with you at the PalmGroves." "We will talk of this hereafter," said Miss Halstein gently, and dropping her eyes upon the ground. "What a strange lover he is," whispered the Syndic to the merchant. "That is true enough," answered the other. "Yet would I wager a grosschen that he succeeds. He is a fine, intrepid, persevering young fellow; and such men seldom fail in any thing that they set their hearts upon.” The old merchant was a true pro phet. For before three months had elapsed, the pretty Sophie became lawful mistress of the heart and household of Vivian. The Reynestein flourished, but the Palm-Groves became their home. In the course of time, the blacks on their estates were enabled, in pursuance of a system equally wise and generous, to emerge from the condition of bondmen; but they still remained as cultivators, attracted equally by kind treatment, and an equitable share of the profits of their labours. "After all, the greatest pleasure in the world," said Vivian, one day to his wife, "is conferring pleasure; and the greatest pleasure which one can confer, is to give Freedom to one's fellowFriendship's Offering. man. A LEGEND OF THE RHINE. "From the Holy Land, from the Holy Land, Sweet lady, to place on thy lily hand "It is the ring -it is the ring! Oh, mercy, beaven!" the lady said, Shall never kneel at thy feet again; Sank, deeply sank in thy lover's side; In these arms Roland the valiant died." Woe, woe for ever for Adelaide, No earthly lover shall claim her hand; Two years went by, and Adelaide A votary knelt at the Virgin's shrine, And ever at midnight lone she said, And the brave Roland-oh, his years he spent For the fairest bride that heaven e'er wed. EXPLANATIONS. (For the Olio.) "If reasons were as plenty as blackberries, I will give no man a reason on compulsion." King John IV. EXPLANATIONS are oftentimes disagreeable. The schoolboy dreads nothing so much as the utterance of that inqusitive monosyllable, "why?" To answer it he is required to think; than which, to children and women, nothing can be so unpleasant. A young man writes a book. The critics condemn it as being "bad."The author asks why? But either on account of their "columns being occupied with more important matter," or from a good-natured unwillingness to expose the author's errors-the critics will not explain-straightway, the youth becomes enraged, but regains his equanimity by likening his fate to that of Henry Kirk White. A gentleman, while paying his court to a young lady, is seen to flirt with another. The "injured fair" demands an explanation-the " gay deceiver" demurs the lady screams and faints -and the gentleman, with an air of nonchalance declares off, while the ex "Oh, when will this pilgrimage cease of pense of divers bottles of eau de co mine ?" But the splash of oars in the rushing Rhine Hath roused the maid from her dreary dream; Who seeks this lone retreat of thine At the midnight hour, by the lightning's gleam? "My Adelaide, my Adelaide!" The convent aisles with the shout resound; "Or art thou living, or art thou dead, Mine own, wherever thou may'st be found," Alas, fond lover, thou comest in vain, Too well was the traitor-tale believed; Her kinsmen scoff at thy passion's pain, And of Adelaide ever thou art bereaved. There's an island in the gushing Rhine, And on that isle is a ruin'd shrine, And a tale of blighted love it tells. The victim there of a savage feud, The beautiful Adelaide lived and died, Vainly her lover his suit renew'd, For she pined away, heaven's virgin bride. logne, and the trouble and anxiety of might have been saved to the lady, if looking out for another "eligible man," her quondam beau had condescended to give an explanation. One man calls another a rascal, the man so called requires an explanation it is refused-he demands satisfaction, which he obtains to his heart's content by shooting his adversary through an arm or a leg. To this act of philanthropy he is prompted, for no other reason, than because he is denied an explanation, which (in all probability) would have PROVED him a rascal. In the House of Commons, however, the difficulties usually attendant upon explanations seem to vanish; although the MANNER of getting over them remains a profound secret-the report ters keep us in the dark in this particular. The member for A-makes unpleasant remarks in reference to the member for B, who, in his defence, recriminates; and we read on, in the hope of perusing an animated reply from the member for A-, but are obliged to content ourselves with the short-hand laconics of the reporter in the words "The Honourable Member explained." W. H. W. THE SECRET. A DIALOGUE. "I have a counsel for thy gentle ear, A secret deep, I fain would whisper in it" "Of love, I guess; come closer, then, my dear, And if 's worth a farthing prav begin it." "Well, then. He (you know who?) was here this minute; And no, I can't go on-indeed I can't; peasant gathers the fruit; and the expectation is swallowed up in the acquirement. So, man's hopes are accomplished, and cease to gladden the heart. Happy is it for him that more will soon bud forth, and that he is not left to the misery of having nothing to hope for. Wealth is, and always must be, confined to a comparative few; while contentment is open to all. Why, then, should we pass by the most valuable treasure, in endeavouring to obtain the one; which, even should we be fortunate enough to acquire it, can neither recompense us for our toil, or insure us the possession of the other. It is by the superior exertion of the mind that men rise in intellect above their fellows; every one would, therefore, do well to cultivate his powers of And now-such love-and oh! that I should thought; for, although it is impossible win it! HE, who spends his days in promoting the welfare of his species, may, possibly, meet with few thanks; but he will secure something of much more consequence-self-approbation. As men become more enlightened and civilized, we constantly find, that they become more virtuous and of a more liberal turn of mind; whenever, therefore, we find a people become less and less moral, or whenever liberality of sentiment becomes less and less general, we may be very certain, that that people or that age are retrograding in the scale of existence; and, it is then that the exertions of the reformer are most particularly needed. That man is fortunate whose fame has never been sullied by the voice of Detraction; that man is not without blame, whose character never recovers the lustre which an enemy's slander may have dim'd. As the trees put forth blossoms, so does the imagination of man put forth hopes. The cold winds blow, and blights destroy the expectation of the husbandman. So, disappointments and crosses mar the fair prospect, which appeared in the garden of the mind. The blossoms arrive at maturity; the for every man to becoine a Socrates or a Plato, yet, it should be remembered, that it was by the discipline to which he subjected his heart, that Socrates was enabled to smile at the adversity of Fortune; and, that it was in his own mind, Plato reasoned out the immortality of the soul. The power of thinking is not contined to philosophers; it is, by making a right use of their thoughts, that men acquire that title. If the will to relieve distress bore any reasonable proportion to the ability, the word POVERTY would quickly become obsolete. Truth is cheaply purchased at almost any price. Why should we be stayed in our search after it, by respect for the prejudices of ourselves or others? If truth be valuable, and is to be acquired, only by personal exertion; it is certain we can never obtain it, so long as our minds are under the influence of prejudice; or, while we neglect to examine, whether that which passes for it in the world bear its current impression, or is only a clever counterfeit. They who talk most of their knowledge have, generally, the least of it to show. The truly wise man will let others set the value on his abilities; and he who has not learnt that boasting shows but little sense, can scarcely have learned anything else. How many there are who act and talk, as if their thinking faculties would be turned to the best advantage, by never being roused to exertion! How strange, that while the chief boast of humanity is reason, there are men to be found, who pride themselves upon making no use of it! R. JARMAN. |