"Murdered! Yes, I was a murderer, and I, his time of life to venture on such a young, shuddered. "Fear not,' continued the lieutenant; what is one man more or less in the world? Had he been an enemy the deed would have been accounted praiseworthy. Fool! what stand you there looking like a ghost for? Did I not know better I should say you were a coward. Catch hold of the carrion by the legs and toss it into the ditch; it is in our way.' "I endeavoured to obey him, but could not, and he pushed me aside, and himself raised the body upright in order to get hold of it, but it was too heavy even for his muscular strength; it fell forwards, and, to my heated imagination, seemed to totter with outstretched arms towards me. My brain whirled, and I darted into the wood with breathless speed; the dead bodies around uttered a hoarse peal of laughter, which floated on the night wind; horrible bloody forms danced before my eyes and mocked at me with their white fingers; confused sounds rang in my ears; and at length I sank exhausted on the ground, and became insensible. How long I lay I know not, but I was aroused by the rough shaking of a strong hand, and he stood before me, as calm as if nothing had happened. 66 Corporal,' he said, 'look to this prisoner; the victory is ours.' Afterwards, when we could converse unnoticed, he said: Corporal, I was disappointed in my hopes last night. The treasury contained next to nothing; see, here is your share. No nonsense! I command you to take it. And mark me, be a man; strike the past night out of your memory. I have forgotten all that passed-do you the same.' But it is impossible; that ghastly form is ever before my mind's eye; conscience ever cries Murderer' in my ears; thoughts will not be controlled, and the memory of that fearful scene is as fresh as if it were but yesterday it happened." He paused for a few moments, and then added, "Thou knowest all now, my child. Now ask thyself if aught can be done for us." Nothing by sitting idly with the hands in the lap," said the young girl, rising up and moving towards the door with a firm, light step. "Whither goest thou, my child?” "Be comforted, father dear; let me go unquestioned. All will yet be well." Hastily she put on her mantle and hood, and, heedless of the gathering twilight, of the impropriety of the step she was about to take, set off for the lieutenant's house. She scarcely knew herself what her purpose was, but something seemed to bid her go. The door stood a-jar, and unseen by any one, she slipped in, glided gently up the stairs, and approached the door of the room in which she heard voices. Light gleamed through a chink in it, and before touching the latch she peeped through. Grabow sat drinking, smoking, and talking with his friend the captain, who at that moment proposed Elizabeth's health, which Grabow honoured with a deep draught, and then laughed one of his sneering laughs. The captain congratulated him on the beauty of his intended, but declared him a bold man at high-spirited thing. Grabow replied that he feared not; that it was his determination to watch her; that he had already got rid of her only lover; and that as soon as they were married he intended to take her to his estate in Prussia, out of the way of all temptation. "You had better not let her know of it," remarked the captain, 66 or perhaps she'll refuse to have you now. "She dares not! mine she must be!" hold her and her parents thus fast?" "Indeed! and may one ask by what spell you 'By opposing sense to folly and weakness. The strong govern by their strength; the clever by stratagem. There are two classes in the world-wise men and fools. The wise make laws, and the fools tremble before them as a child at a rod. Can a man but get one of these fools to offend against the laws, he has him bound hand and foot-a very slave." "And such is the old sergeant to you then, I suppose, because you know of some folly of his?" "He's an actual fool, stuffed full of nonsense about honour, good name, fame, and such like, and of fears of human laws and divine judgments. The stupid fellow! if he only knew how groundless are all his fears and remorse, he'd be the happiest fellow alive." "A degree of knowledge which, I suppose, you'll take good care he never arrives at; but tell me how you have contrived thus to fool him." Grabow cast a glance around as if to assure himself that no one else was present, and then drawing his chair close to his comrade, began to speak in so low a voice that not one word was audible to Elizabeth. A feverish glow burnt in her veins; she pressed her ear against the chink with convulsive eagerness, but still nothing but the murmuring of the voice reached her, until the captain burst into a fit of laughter. "Capital! capital!" he said; "the fellow really deserves to be whipped for being such a simpleton." "He is sufficiently punished," replied Grabow. Day and night his conscience tortures him. I say, just see what nonsense parsons talk about good men and sinners: here's an innocent fellow tormented, worn to skin and bone by this same conscience, and Providence lets him suffer, while I am happy and jolly. What folly there is in the world!" Well, success to such folly, since it procures for us obedient old men and lovely young brides! eh, Grabow?" Elizabeth leaned her burning forehead against the doorpost; confused images floated before her mental vision; at length came a bright, tangible idea; she slipped down stairs as noiselessly as she had come, flew rather than walked home, shut herself in her own chamber, and was not seen again until the following morning, when she kissed her father with a cheerful smile, and went about her duties with her usual spirits. 224 fear; Elizabeth and her Lovers; or, the Soldier's Secret. Frau Margaret watched her with wonder and with us?" And who has done her wrong?" asked the king, looking graciously down upon her. All is written in this paper," replied Elizabeth with a deep curtsey, as she handed him the one she held. "Good! I'll be sure to see to it !" and he was about to put it in his pocket. "Ah! if it would please your majesty to read it now!" said Elizabeth, folding her hands imploringly. The king half smiled at her importunity, and pointing to the children said: " 'Well, if these noisy little folks will permit me." 66 Be quiet, children!" said Elizabeth, driving them back, "the king wishes for silence, so be quiet, I desire you!" "So! so! that will do!" observed Frederick; and unfolding the paper he glanced rapidly over it. His countenance became grave, his eyes sparkled with anger, and his voice vibrated as he said: "Justice shall be done! I will inquire into this matter. If you have spoken falsely and calumniated your superiors, you go to the house of correction." "I have not spoken falsely, your majesty," said Elizabeth firmly, nor do I fear the result of your inquiries." The king regarded her with his peculiarly searching glance, and then said: “So much the better for you if that be true. Now go home and keep silence until to-morrow." With this he rode off, followed by his noisy suite, who began their pranks again as soon as they saw he ceased to speak. Elizabeth's heart was so full of joy that tears flowed from her eyes; disengaging herself from the crowd that inquisitively surrounded her, she hastened homewards, and reached her dwelling just as Grabow was entering. A strange alteration had taken place in her. So long as he was merely ridiculous, and disgusting as a wooer, she could laugh at and mock him; but now her soul shuddered before him. He took her hand and kissed it in spite of her resistance, and looking keenly at her, he said: "Does my fair bride shrink with maiden modesty from my tenderness? wait a bit, the time will soon come when we may give free course to our raptures." Elizabeth required all her self-command to enable her to reply, but a glance at his spiteful, old, ape-like countenance gave her back some portion of her wonted spirit, and she replied: "So you still encourage the wild hope of marrying me?" "More now than ever, sweetheart! Are we not betrothed? and that is half way." "And are you not afraid that I shall make you bitterly rue this folly ?" "Not in the least! You laugh now, pretty one; my turn will come by and bye." "And so you have sold poor Eberhard for a soldier! Will you not free him to oblige me?" "Most certainly not. They will make a piper of him, and there he may blow his flute to some purpose. But let us not waste words on him; come in and let me embrace you." "Not so! Do me the favour to free me from your presence for this day." "And to-morrow? What reward shall I obtain for my forbearance to-morrow?" "If to-morrow is as to-day, you shall hear no more complaints, resistance, or mockeries. I will not even laugh again, but follow you quietly to the altar." Grabow suspected some trick, and looked keenly at her as if to read her thoughts; then he said: Well, so be it. The foul fiend only knows what mischief lurks in that giddy head. Never mind! I'll take you at your word. Adieu until to-morrow, and then no more foolery." Elizabeth nodded her adieu, she could not speak; Grabow surveyed her with another penetrating glance, shook his finger warningly at her, and then departed. The girl wiped the perspiration from her forehead, and paused to recover breath before she could ascend the stairs. The mother sat at the window and read her prayer-book; she asked not where Elizabeth had been, but looked at her for a moment, then pressed her hand over her eyes to hide the gathering tears, and turned again to her book. Often in the course of the day she looked at her daughter as if about to speak to her on some serious subject; but Elizabeth avoided such an address, went busily about her duties, had a gentle word and hopeful smile ever for her father, and tried to hide her anxiety under an appearance of active cheerfulness. Every time any one knocked at the door the blood flew to her face, her heart beat, and her knees trembled under her, but the day passed over without any notice being taken of her petition. Still hope and trust in the justice of man and the mercy of God were strong in her heart; and, as she embraced her father at night, she whispered her cheering convictions in his ear, without however letting him into her secret. The night was passed in waking thoughts or restless dreams. Now the king drove her from him with harsh words, and rude men laid hands upon her and dragged her to the house of correction; now her father stood manacled before her, and her mother lay down in the streets to die; then Grabow came and seized her in his arms; his red nose grew larger and larger, hotter and hotter, until it burst into a flame, his eyes gleamed like live Elizabeth's admiring eyes followed every coals, and he stepped forward to kiss her; she motion of her sovereign, and she could scarcely screamed, and awoke. It was long ere sleep believe that the only simply-attired person again visited her eyes, and then all was happi- among all the brilliant and glittering forms was ness: a youthful smiling face looked upon her; he on whose word hung life and death; at first she thought it an angel, but as it gra- who possessed almost god-like power; who dually approached she recognized Eberhard; he could pronounce over the fortunes of the clasped her hand in his, and Frederick rode up, proudest there; whose very looks were comand nodded in a friendly manner to them. Amands. So lost was she in these thoughts, and loud knocking, and a rough voice calling on Joseph Spangenberg, awoke her; she sprang from her bed, hastily dressed herself, and hurried down just as her mother opened the door. A tall grenadier stepped in and inquired for Sergeant Spangenberg. were so numerous as to render it impossible for her to get on if she did so. At length they reached a large salon, in which were a few gravelooking men in court dresses; a pair of folding doors, leading into a smaller apartment, stood open, and a little old man, who appeared to be dressing, might be seen going to and fro and speaking to another, who stood reverentially before him, and occasionally approaching a writingdesk, near which burned several wax lights, and taking up the papers, which even at that early hour he had found time to read and resolve on. No one who looked on the little, bent old man, who, in shirt-sleeves, a soiled white satin waistcoat, well worn black velvet breeches, and unpolished boots, trotted about, would have imagined that they beheld the mortal abode of the mighty spirit that not only cared for the welfare of the meanest of his subjects, but had an eye to the affairs of all Europe. 66 "I am he," replied the old man respectfully. Then yourself, wife, and daughter, are immediately to follow me." 66 Whither?" inquired the startled man. "To his majesty, at the palace." The old man echoed the words, and looked anxiously at his daughter. "Courage, father," she said. "Our monarch is a just and good king; thou hast fought bravely for him, and need not fear appearing before him." "Alas! alas! what have we poor folks done!" cried Frau Margaret, while indistinct visions of certain smuggled articles presented to her by the lieutenant floated before her mind's eye. A conveyance was waiting for them, they got into it, and before they had hardly had time to collect their thoughts they were at the palace. The officer on duty preceded them up the broad marble staircase, and, with beating hearts, the three followed him through corridors and anterooms, where guards, pages, gentlemen-inwaiting, ministers and courtiers thronged, all of whom regarded the new-comers with curiosity. Frau Margaret, in her simplicity, would have curtesied to each, had she not found that they An attendant held him water and a towel, and while washing his face and hands his quick glance surveyed the salon, and the clear, bright eyes plainly showed that though the body might be worn by age, the spirit was intelligent and powerful as ever. in gazing on the white head and bright eyes of the king, that she almost forgot the present, until a sign from her mother directed her attention to a guard who stood on duty near the door. Elizabeth scarcely repressed an exclamation as she recognized Eberhard. The young man was attired as a soldier, but he looked in good spirits; he smiled, and laid his finger on his lips, and when she would have approached him signed her back, and then stood stiff as a post, or as a grenadier. Under one arm was a box, and in the other hand a roll of paper, and he pointed first to one and then to the other. Elizabeth could not make out what he meant, Lut her heart bounded with hope and joy, for his presence evidently showed the king's attention to her writing; for had she not spoken of Eberhard, of his being forced to become a soldier, of his musical talents, his industry and goodness? Her radiant glance inspired her parents with some of her confidence. At this moment the king, who had now assumed his coat decorated with stars and orders, came to the threshold of the salon and surveyed the group. Margaret curtesied down to the ground; her husband became paler than ever; Eberhard drew himself up an inch taller, and Elizabeth met the monarch's look with one of trusting confidence. "Is that Joseph Spangenberg, formerly sergeant in my army, and now clerk in the waroffice ?" "Yes, most gracious King," replied the old, thee come to him, thinking he can find thee em man, with a trembling voice. "Did he not, after the battle of Torgau, assist in plundering the regimental treasury?" The poor man started and quivered at this question; but, with the courage of desperation, he replied "It is only too true, your Majesty. I received two hundred ducats for my share." "And a precious ass he made of himself," said the king, with a peculiar smile. "Ah, your Majesty! that is not the full extent of my criminality; a heavier sin—” The king turned his back upon him, and addressed the young soldier-"Ah, ha! so 'tis thee! Methinks thou didst once put us in the right road. We'll try to do as much for thee. Canst play from notes at sight?" Eberhard bowed acquiescence, and the king pointed to some music which stood upon a music-stand. "Try thy skill, then, and let us hear." With a beating heart the young man took out his flute-his fingers trembled; he glanced at Elizabeth, and encouraged by her bright smile, advanced to the stand. It was a manuscript piece by Quanz, who wrote such expressly for the king. The first notes sounded but faint, but soon the tones became firm and clear; the difficult passages were given with feeling and grace, and with but few blunders. In the middle of one of them the king signed to him to leave off, and poor Eberhard, fearing it was because the monarch's quick ear had detected some false notes, ventured to observe-" It is a very difficult piece to play off at sight." The king, however, took no notice of the remark, but addressing a page in waiting, said "Let the two officers approach!" Grabow and his friend the captain appeared at the door. "Nearer,' said the king; and they obeyed. Grabow's confusion did not escape notice, but no word was addressed to him; it was to the captain Frederick spoke:-"I believe, after attending the betrothal of his friend, the captain returned home to smoke and drink with him. There was some talk then of a great crime which you, old man, are supposed to have committed after the battle of Torgau. We know where the falsehood lies, but choose to hear it from the captain's lips; let him speak, and see he adheres to the truth." May it please your Majesty, Lieutenant Grabow did but tell me that the officer Spangenberg thought he murdered was dead and cold hours before he would not tell him so, in order that remorse might punish him for such a deed." "Say rather, in order to hold a rod of terror over him, in order to mould him to his will, to wring from him his daughter!" thundered the king; and his eyes flashed on the lieutenant, who, in spite of his ordinary audacity, trembled beneath that lightning glance. Again the king turned to Eberhard: "Thou hast a fair talent for music; but for a soldier thou art not fit. Lay aside the uniform; go to Beuda; say I bade ployment in the royal chapel." Swinging himself round, Frederick now confronted Grabow: 'Let the lieutenant mark me! What happened in 1760 we will let pass. Yon maiden shall not marry him; but, as he is betrothed to her, he shall endow her. Ten thousand thaler, with the interest on that sum from 1760, shall he give her. We will send people with him to receive the money. He is no longer an officer of ours, nor will he receive his pension any longer. If, as we understand, he has an estate in Prussia, he will do well to betake himself thither without delay, and remain there so long as he lives." With these words he pointed to the door, and then turned and re-entered the inner room, leaving his hearers full of joy, gratitude, astonishment, and fury. The old sergeant could scarcely contain himself; so great a weight of sorrow and remorse had been lifted off his heart that he felt as if he could dance for joy. He embraced his wife, his daughter, and Eberhard, by turns; and, forgetful of all but his gratitude, cried-" Oh, that I might be permitted to throw myself at the feet of our great king and thank him for his grace and goodness." But Eberhard reminded him that it was not becoming to raise his voice in the precincts of royalty; and the officer who had brought them thither opened the door, and without ceremony informed them it was time to go; and with quick steps they passed again through the crowd of courtiers, and the splendid rooms, longing to be at liberty to pour out every feeling of their hearts to each other. Grabow was accompanied by two persons appointed to receive the money he was condemned to pay. He made no difficulty-well knowing the fu tility of opposition to orders derived from such a source-but paid them the principal and interest, upon which they gave him a receipt and politely took their leave. When they were fairly out of hearing he gave vent to his impotent rage in curses and evil wishes; packed up his property, and set off for Prussia, where he died, alone, friendless, and unregretted; but not before tidings of the union of Elizabeth and Eberhard had reached him. TO A CLOUD. BY THE HON. JULIA MAYNARD. Thou art passing away thou frail white cloud, Driven lightly before the western storm, With the wild wind's whistle and thunder loud! Which mouldeth at will thy phantom-like form, Thou'rt passing away, with a lustre dim, The moon shineth through thy delicate veil Like my own sweet love with her cheek so pale, And her eye so blue, and her form so slim! Thou wilt hang right above her lonely cot, White cloud! white cloud! oh, then tell her from me That my love is like immortality: When once it is rooted it fadeth not! THE LITTLE GALLE Y-S LA V E. (From the German.) It is well known that Mr. Fellenburg, on his | him there, with the whole account of his former estates at Hofwyl, in the canton of Berne, has deeds. established an institution for poor children, adjoining his establishment for education, in which poor boys are admitted and brought up to be able-bodied husbandmen. In order to awaken in these children of low origin a proper feeling of honour, the noble Fellenburg causes separate account-books to be kept for each child; the Dr. contains an account of the expenses incurred for their maintenance, clothing, education, and other inevitable disbursements; the Cr. what they earn by manual labour in the fields, and the value of the vegetables and fruits, which are sold to the kitchen of the institution at the usual market price at Berne, and which are produced from a little piece of ground allotted to each, and in which they work voluntarily in their play-hours. In this manner each child defrays, by his 18th or 19th year, the expenses incurred for him; and therefore to a certain degree they have to thank themselves for their capability of acting in the capacity of either bailiff, husbandman, farmer, or steward, in a stranger's service. The principal superintendent of this school (of this kind the only one) is an excellent young man of the name of Werli; and among several peculiarities worthy of imitation, this one must be recorded: the boys are obliged to keep day-books, in which they note down, every evening before sleeping, the simple occurrences of the past day, what they have learnt, their intentions, and similar details. Several years ago Mr. Fellenburg received into this institution a child of about eight or nine years old sent to him from one of his friends in France, who had redeemed from chains the child who afterwards would have been sent from the criminal prison to the galleys. The little one, notwithstanding his youth, had passed through every degree of petty theft, until he really assisted at highway robbery, and was seized at last at the capture of an incendiary band. The child was in reality sent to death; for it was evident, chained to the dreadful oar, his little strength could not endure a week. The sight of the tender child, with his open, beautiful countenance, with the innocent look in his large, clear eyes, weighed down with heavy chains, tore the humane man's heart. By the means of gold and representations, he contrived to win over the overseer of the company to report the child to the commander as having died on the road, and to deliver him to his care. This person knew of the institution of his friend Fellenburg; and aware that no place could be better adapted for his protege, he sent Certainly this visitor from the galleys was not most acceptable to Mr. Fellenburg; however, attracted by the upright face of the child, which stood in strange contradiction to his evil deeds, he determined at least to make an attempt with him. In the first place he took the child into a room alone, told him he only was acquainted with his misdeeds, and that no one should hear one word of them as long as he conducted himself blamelessly in his house, and spoke of his past and future life in a confidentially touching manner. The little one never took his eyes from him, and listened with profound attention; his cheeks gradually reddened; he cast his eyes on the ground, and tears-perhaps the first of this kind he ever shed-trembled on his cheeks. The noble Fellenburg, deeply penetrated with the possibility of saving the young child, pressed him to his bosom, and said with tender sadness: "I am going to take you into the circle of entirely guiltless children: they will receive you as their brother, because they consider you to be as pure and virtuous as they are themselves. If you resolutely determine to be as good as they are, and to avoid every seducement to evil, and never allow yourself to perform the slightest, nay, the very slightest error, and when no one sees you, only to follow the still voice of your conscience, you will in time become a good man, and will continue one, if you persevere in these simple maxims. The past will be forgotten and forgiven, and the future will provide you with opportunities of performing more of good than you have hitherto performed of evil.” The child, who most probably had never been spoken to by such a man, could scarcely answer. He cast his head down, wiped the tears from his eyes, gave his right hand to the noble Fellenburg, and said in a low voice, "I will.” He was now introduced to the institution; the children received him with friendly goodwill; and Werli, who was, however, entrusted with the secret, considered it a duty to try to win the little man back to virtue through kindness and great attention. The child possessed uncommon capabilities. He neither knew how to write, read, nor reckon, when first admitted to Mr. Fellenberg; but he overtook in a short time the children of his own age. In manual labour he was skilful, active, and unwearied; and the religious instruction which he for the first time enjoyed, and which Werli knew so well how to impress upon him, attracted him in a wonderful manner: he exemplified it on sociability to his companions; he took no notice of the trifling tricks and jests which |