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POETRY.
From the Meteor.
* CARTHIAN.
At sunset, when the parting light
Oi‘beauty, crept through Mian’s vale,
And on the wave and mountain height
Hung quivering and pale.
When o’er the gloom that evening brings
The day-king, as he sunk in flight,
Shook splendour from his folding wings,
And laugh’d at hovering night:
The tents of Carthian were seen
All gilded hy that orient sheen;
And warriors who had often braved
The power of many a mighty foe,
Stood with the sparkling laugh below
Where Persia’s banner waved.
When lo! from out the mountain shade,
From rock, and tree, and gloomy dell,
A host with flashing spear and hlaue
Bore on, and liktva torrent fell
Upon the thoughtless group:
They fell—and as the Persain saw
The might, and heard the loud hurra
Of that wild bandit troop;
Hope’s flowers closed before his eye—
He felt it was his hour to die,
But still stood firm and brave:
He fought, though life was dim, and all
Grew dark in death; he fought to fall—
To a fame-laurel’d grave.
The combat died—how red and wild
With Persians basely slain,
With lorms in their own life-blood piled,
' Lay all the Illian plain:
In death were they who once had breathed
The song—the laugh—the vow:
Who once with victor-sword unsheath’d,
Lived with a light that glory wreath’d
Around the soldier’s brow:
They lay in ruin—sunset’s light
Beheld each life expire,
They lay upon that fi -ld of fight;
Therr bier, the earth—their pall, the night—
That sun, their funeral fire.
The frozen lip—the folded eye—•
The cheek With life’s red beauty gone;
The blood that stream’d in torrents by,
Yet gilded by the glancing sun;
The banner, that in pride at morn,
Waved in its purple beauty—torn,,
A nd broken spear, and cloven shield,
Were wide upon that silent field.
X)ark shadows deepen’d, and o’erhung
In folds;of gloom the evening arch,
When frotjn tne hills the wild notes rung
Of bandiit Alpin’s march;
There with the outlawed banner high,
With spears like star-light in the s!.y,
They ranged with martial pride;
There with the work of rapine done,
With golden spoil, and captive won,
They glitter far and wide.
But soon the glorying music fell,
Along the evening air;
Troud Alpin, with commanding word,
W r aved to the ,band his crimson sword,
And as he spoke, the shout and swell
Of happy voices, rose to dwell
Withmarayan echo there.
" Comrade's, victorious and brave!
Te fought for conquest or the grave,
With yonder prostrate ioe:
X e con/quer’d—let the silent night
Jtesowncl with voices of delight;
Arwf pass with song and festal rite
>' Amid the wine cup’-(low!”
They shouted—and the midnight moon
To scenes of warrior revel rose;
To loud lips, and wild eyes. that soon
Met long and dark repose:
It pas.’d to voices murmuring high,
To laughter that went up the sky,
From joy’s unbounded power;
And while the song and mu ic peal’d,
Blithe hearts with pleasure’s fullness reel’d
Throughout that radiant hour. ^
But who was he within that cave,
With clouded brow and dark eye bent,
Bound with the letters of a slave !—
Mis garb in blood—his helmet rent—
What being, that, with lonely frown,
Gazed dark upon that banquet down!
’T was Carthian—captive of the fight—
The valiant, and the kingly knight—
The Persian chieftain—he whom day
Had seen as proud, as free as they;
Who saw in blood his soldiers fall
B; dastard drot and coward blow,
And hear within his heart their call
For vengeance on the foe.
Jle gazed, but not alone in thought;
For deeper in the cavern gloom,
Like rising specter to a tomb,
A soldier of bis blighted band,
With loyal heart and sword in hand,.
His voiceless signal caught;
The soldier sprang—it was to free
His chieftain from the chain;
It was with Carthian to be
The death-blast to thaf banquet glee,
And freedom’s own again—
*****
The morn rose up, brave Carthian shone,
Once more upon the Persian throne.
Rover,
GUIDE ME JEHOVAH.
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MffSCELtLAJiY.
THE SPANISH INQUISITION.
Some of our readers may recollect,
that the author of the narrative from
which the extract below is taken, visit
ed this country after the fall of the
Cortez and the constitution ol Spain.
He was the companion inarms oi Ceu.
Mina, and the brother in law ol Gen.
Quiroga. Some account ol' his misfor
tunes were published in many oi the
papers in the United States. At the
time of his arrival he had not lully re
covered from the tortures he had suf
fered at Cadiz, lie was accompani
ed by his wife and child. The publi
cation was originally intended for this
country; but in consequence of a hope
that Col. Van Hailen entertained—
and whit h subsequent events have not
made good—of returning with his com
panions to their native country, & es
tablish r.gainthe constitutional system,
he concluded to publish it. in London,
where he at present remains with the
other Spanish exiles.—Statesman.
On the night of the lbth, I again
appeared before the tribunal. I w r as
made to go through all the ceremo
nies and formula of swearing as on the
first occasion. “Do you sw r ear, said
Zorilla, to have told the truth in all
the answers you have given to the ho
ly tribunal?” “Yes.” “Doyou swear,
as an apostolical and Roman catholic,
that you have not concealed from the
knowledge of the holy tribunal, any
person or fact inimical to the divine or
human majesty?” “Yes, sir.” “Do
you swear it upon your Catholic con
st ience?” “Yes, sir.” “Are you sure
that you have forgotten nothing?”
“Do you require more time to re
flect?” “I believe that ! have for
gotten nothing, sir.” “Well, then
sign.” I had scarcely laid down the
pen, when the tw o jailors approached,
and suddenly seizing me succeeded in
spite pf my struggles, in binding my
hands behind my hack with strong
leather thongs, which were wound
round my arms from the elbows to
the wrists. The fiscal then rose, and
read a very long remonstrance, in the
name of 1he divine Redeemer and of
the holy tribunal, and concluded hy
warning me, that if in twenty four
hours l did not make a full and com-
pVte avow r al of oil that I concealed,
the holy tribunal would declare me
guilty of perjury, and proceed in con
sequence fo treat me as I deserved,
t o this I replied, that my conscience
forbade me lo comply with the desires
of the tribunal: to do what they requir-
t d of me would render me guilty at
the same time, of lalseliood and base
ness. On hearing this, the president
in a 1H of impatience dashed the snuff
box on the table; Verdeja made the
sign of (the cross: and Zorilla, starting
furiously from his chair, exclaimed,
“ah vvlut wickedness! Well, to mor
row we shall find a way to untie your
tongue. Y ou have 24 hours to choose
between your safety and your ruin.—
Jailor take hm away.” And Juanito,
pulling me by the thong that hung
from my wrisj, took me back to my
dungeon. Mijrcelino followed us.—
Seeing that I was to be left wdtli my
arms thus boiud, I asked them to give
me some watir beforq they locked me
up. Marcello, who always showed
somewdiat let* humanity than his col
leagues, raised the vessel to my lips,
and said, in j confused tone of voice,
that they vv<|re expressly forbidden to
speak to mel About one o’clock in
the morning) the door of dungeon o-
pened, andjZorilla, followed by his
worthy satelite, Juanito, entered.—
Finding a striding or sitting position in
tolerable frjim the pressure on my
arms, I had ‘thrown myself upon the
bed: they njade me rise, and murmur
ed at my awkwardness in doing so. I
was devoured by a burning thirst; for
being deprived of the use of my hands,
I had, in endeavoring to drink, thrown
down the vessel containing the water.
The mqment I saw my jailors, I asked
them in a suppliant voice for water.
They paid no attention to what 1 said,
but proceeded to’ search my person
and afterwards my bed, bedstead, pil
low, and even my watch. I then a-
gain begged for something to drink,
imploring them in the name of reli-'
gion, charity and all Christian virtues,
of which the holy tribunal talks
so much. At length, Zorilla ordered
a pitcher of water to be brought, and
when Juanito poured some into a bow l,
he said to me, “drink like the savages
of Africa since you have no more re
ligion than they have.”
[Col. Van Hailen underwent anoth
er examination the next day, tho’ in
an alarming state of fever. The result
was the same as on the former occa
sions—denials on his part, and meha-
ees on the part of the inquisitors. It
was not tVil some days after that their
menaces were put in execution.]
Between 7 and 8 o’clock in the e-
vening on the 27th November, Juani
to entered my dungeon with four men,
whose faces were concealed by black
veils, that covered their heads, shoul
ders and breasts, in the form ot a cowl.
I w as dozing: the noise awakened me;
and when, by the dim light ol the
lamp, which Juanito held, l perceiv
ed these four phantoms, I remaineu
some time in doubt if I were not in a
dream. They signified to me to got
up by pulling the end of the leather
thong that bound my arms, and with
out uttering a single word, bandaged
my eyes wdth a leather strap. In This
state I was led from the dungeon to
the place of punishment; there, upon
an oi det of Zarilla, w hose voice 1-re
cognized, my arms were unbound'—
“Listen with attention,” he saiu in a
tone of fury, “.you propagator of se
cret and impious societies—you who'
have been deaf to the counsels of
peace, mildness and religious charity,
which the holy tribunal has so often
given you. YVell, the holy tribunal at
length decided to force the secret
from you, Oh! perfidious enemy of our
holy religion and our catholic sove
reign—those truths w'hich neither
oaths nor exhortations have beep able
to obtain from you. It is the cause
of our divine Redeemer and of our
Catholic king that w e judge; w r e shall
not shrink in doing our duty. Y es pre
pare yonrself, yes, the moment is
come. Let justice, truth and reli
gion, be at length satisfied.” At this
moment the four executioners ap
proached, and w ithout giving me time
to utter the few words which the
troubled state of mind I w r as then in
would have allowed me to pronounce,
laid hold of me, raised me up several
feet from the ground, and placed ine
upon a kind of crutches, to one of
wdiich my right arm was bound in a
vertical position, whilst my left was
stretched out horizontally; iny left
hand was then put into an iron glove,
very tight at the W’list, and from
w r hich extended two iron bars that
enclosed the whole length of my arm
up to my shoulder and prevented me
from making: the least movement.—
My two legs and the middle of my
body, were beund iu the same munnejr
her as my right arm, to the pi
tween which 1 was- suspended, so
in a little time all movement but that
of respiration w T as suppressed. When
the tribunal saw ine in this painful po
sition, they ordered the various char
ges accumulated against me to be
read. Zorilla in a trembling voice
indicating bis thirst of vengeance, said.
“kou have carried on revolutionary
relations with the count Mountija, the
Marquis de Campo Verde, Don Juan
O'Donoju, and Don Jose Torritos;
they have written to you several
times—you have answered them; you
had assented to their plans, is not this
the case?”. I uttered a few words
meant to prove the contrary. , “No
circumlocution; yes or no—is not this
the‘case?” 1 persisted in my denial.
The iron glove, which seemed to be
connected with a wheel, was then
lightened, and as the movement oi the
iron bars began to squeeze my arms,
I gradually felt, particularly from the
elbow to the shoulder, a most indis-
cribable pain.—boon after, all my
limbs became convulsed, and a cold
perspiration covered my face.—The
interrogatory however was continued.
“Yes or no—is it not so? is it not so?”
until I fainted away, and heard nothing
more than a confused sound of voices.
When I recovered njy senses, 1 found
myself stretched on the floor of my
dungeon, and surrounded by my exe
cutioners, in the midst of whom my
enfeebled sight recognized Zorilla and
Juanito. During my state oi insensi
bility I had been heavily ironed. Mar
tyrized as I was, 1 kept my teeth
firmly closed upon a corner ol the col
lar oi my coat to prevent myseli from
giving utterance to those cries which
the pain L suffered might have forced
from me before these odious beings.
Zorilla spoke to me in the most abusive
terms, saying that I sufiered more
from rage and despair than from any
thing else. When they quitted me,
I dragged myself across the floor to
my bed. The noise of my chains
brought in my executioners at every
moment, and their presence was not
the least cruel of my torments.
Colonel Van Hollen, was not again
subjected to tortures; and alter a cap
tivity of one hundred and thirty one
days, he made his escape by knocking
down Marcellino, one of bis jailois,
and locking him in his dungeon.
STORY FROM THE MISHNA
OF THE RABBINS.
During the absence oi the Rabbi
Meir Irom Ins bouse, his two sons
died, both of them of uncommon beamy
& enlighten.'dd by the law. ills wife
bore them to her.chamber, laid them
upon the bed, and spread a white cov
ering over their bodies. When Rabbi
Meir returned’ his first inquiry was
fov his sons. His wife reached to him
u goblet; he praised the Lord at the
going out of the Sabbath, drank, and
again asked, “Where are my sons,
that they too may drink of the cup of
blessing?” “They will not be far
off,” she replied, and placed food be
fore him that he might eat. He was
in a gladsome and genial mood; and
when he had said grace after the
meal, she thus addressed him: “Rab
bi, with thy permission I would fain
propose to thee one question.” “Ask
it then, my love,” he replied. “A
few days ago, d- person entrusted
some jewels to my custody, and now
he demands them: should I give them
back to him?” “This is a question,”
said rabbi Meir, “which my wife
should not have thought it necessary
to ask. What! w'ouldest thou hesitate
or be reluctant to give to every one his
own?” “No,” she replied; “but yet
I thought it best not to restore them
W'ithout acquainting thee therewith.”
She then led him to their chamber,
and stepping to the bed, took the
white covering from the dead bodies.
“Ah! my sons, my sons!” loudly la
mented their father; “my sons! the
light of my understanding. I w'as
your father; but ye were my teachers
in the law.” The mother turned a-
w'ay and wept bitterly. At length
she took the. husband by the hand and
said, “Rabbi, didst thou not teach me,
that we must not be reluctant to re
store that which was intrusted to our
keeping? See, the Lord gave, aed the
Lord hath taken away; and blessed
be the name of the Lord!” “Blessed
be the name of the Lord!” echoed the
holy man; “and blessed be his glorious
name for ever*”
An Irishman who w'as employed on
the canal last spring at Mears, was ob
served one da • very intently watching
a red-headed woodpecker w hile it was
“ tapping a hollow beach tree. ”—Ou
iqg asked what attracted his atten-
Ion 8omarvellously-“I am speering,”
said he, “at the strsmge baste upon
yonder tree-for sure enough the silly
crathur has knocked his lace against it
till his head is all a gore of blood!!”
MY MOTHER’S GRAVE,
“I had a mother once, like you,
Who o’er my pillow hung,
Kissed from my cheek the briny dev^
And taught my faultering tongue.
But then there came a fearful day,
1 sought my mother’s bed, .
1 ill harsh hands tore me thence away,
Ana told me she was dead.”
L. H.
It was thirteen years since my
mother’s death, when, after a long
absence lrom my native village, I
stood beside the sacred mound, be
neath which I had seen her buri-
edi Since that mournful period^
great changes had come over me.
My childish years had passed away;
and with them had passed my youth*
ful character. The world was alter
ed too; and as 1 stood at mv mother’s
grave I could hardly realize that I
was the same thoughtless, happy
creature, whose cheek she had so of
ten kissed in her excess of tenderness.
But the varied events of thirtee*
years had not effaced the remem
brance of that mother’s smile. It
seemed as if 1 had seen her yester
day—as if I heard the blessed sound
of her voice then in my ear.
The gay dreams of my infancy and
childhood \j ere brought back so dis
tinctly to my mind, that had it not
been for one bitter recollection, th*
tears I shed would have been gentl*
and refreshing. The circumstance
may seem a trifling one; but Vh&
tho’t of it, even now agonizes my heart
and I relate it, that those children
who have parents to love them, may
learn to value them as they ought.
My mother had been ill a long
time, and I had become so much ac
customed to her pale face, and weak
voice, that I was not frightened at
them, a.3 children usually are. At
first, it is true, I had sobbed violently
—for they told me she would die; but
when, day after day, I returned from
school, and found her the same, I be
gan to believe she w'ould always be
spared to me.
One day when I had lost my place
in the class, and done nay work wrong-
side-out-, I came home discourag
ed and fretful. I went into my nrcih~
er’s chamber. She was paler than
usual,—but she met me w'ilh the same
affectionate smile, that always wel
comed my return. Alas, when I look
back, through the lapse of thirteen
years. I think my heart must hove be
come a stone, not to have melted by it.
She requested me to go down
stairs, anu bring her a glass of water
—I pettishly asked w'hy she did r ot
call a domestic to do it. With a look
of mild reproach, w'hich I shall never
forget, if I live to be hundred years
old, she said, “And will not my
daughter bring a glass of water for
her poor sick mother?”
I went and brought her the water;
but I did not do it kindly—instead of
smiling and kissing her, as I was wont
to do, I sat the glass down very quick,
and left the room.
After playing a short time, I went
to bed without bidding my mother
“good night;” but when alone in my
room, in darkness and silence, I re*
membered how pale she looked, and
how' her voice trembled when she
said, “Will not my daughter bring a
glass of water for her poor sick moth
er?”—I could not sleep; and I stole
into her chamber, to ask forgivenessv
She had just Junk into an uneasy
slumber, and they told me I must not
waken her. I did not tell any one
what troubled me; but stole back to
my bed, resolved to rise early in the
morning and tell her how sorry I
Tor my conduct.
The sun was* shining brightly when
I awoke, and hurrying on my clothe^,
I hastened to my mother’s room.
She was dead!—She never spoke
to me more—and never smiled upon
me again—and when I touched the
hand that used to rest upon my head
blessing, it was cold, it made me
start. I bow'ed down by her side^ and
sobbed in the hitterness of my heart.
I thought then I wished I could die,
and be buried with her; and old as I
now am, I would give worlds, were
ihey mine to eLe, could my mother
but have lived to tell me she forgave
my childish ingratitude. But I can
not call her back; and when I stand
by her pra^e, and whenever I think of
her manifold kindness, the memory of
that reproachful.look she gave me,
will “bite life a serpent, and sting
like an adder.”—Juvenile Miscellany.