minated on the 15th April, 1822. He was buried in the cloisters of Westminster Abbey, near the remains of his master, Dr. Cooke. The inscription on the monumental tablet near the spot is prefaced by the first notes of Pergolesi's air, O Lord! have mercy upon me,' and it records with perfect truth, that 'he possessed qualities which are seldom united-a lively enthusiasm and an exact judgment.' Bartleman stood alone in that branch of the profession to which he belonged. The musical records of our country afford no similar instance of a concert singer acquiring the reputation and the influence which he acquired. Nor were these attained by unworthy means. He never sought popularity by descending to the level of his hearers, but obtained it by elevating their tastes to his own. Singers are usually either passive instruments in the hands of others, or if they have power it is too often used with a sole reference to their own advantage. Bartleman was the real head and chief of every orchestra that he entered; and he obtained the deference which was paid him not only by his superior attainments as a musician and a singer, but because it was well known that these were always subservient to the interests of his art. He was accused of being intolerant, bigoted, dogmatical, and exclusive, and it will not be denied that the charge is in a certain degree true. But it must also be admitted that without a decided preference for that style of vocal writing which he regarded as most worthy the attention of an English singer, the public would have remained in ignorance of even the existence of those compositions which especially distinguish and ennoble the English school. Purcell's finest bass songs were written not for the display of any existing singer's powers, but rather to afford fit employment for the talents of one of future generations. They awaited the coming of Bartleman, and then for the first and the last time the unrivalled genius of their author appeared. Aided by his talents the English school displayed all its characteristic excellences, and when these were withdrawn it declined. It is true that he never willingly appeared as a public performer except with his own select companions, but the result was a more perfect exhibition of that style of vocal music which they especially culti vated than has ever been heard since. Associated with Harrison, Knyvett, and Vaughan, to whom his will was law, no composition in which they were jointly engaged was ever heard in public while the slightest imperfection of any kind remained. `As long as this polish was given to the English glee it retained its popularity, but it declined after Bartleman's death. THE DEMON CHAIN. A Legend of the Swedish Counts of Piper. THE family of Piper, in Sweden, possess a curious antique chain, to which the following tradition is attached. It was given by the Devil to their founder, in a remote age, as the price of his soul and of those of his descendants, and a promise of worldly prosperity was united to it, while it should be faithfully worn. In the seventeenth century the army of Sweden lay before Copenhagen, under King Charles X. The chief of the Piper family had his station in the trenches, while his brother and heir was posted at Helsingborg, on the Sound, opposite Elsinore. Late at night the latter received an order from his brother, by an unknown messenger, charging him, by the demon's chain, to hurry to Copenhagen. He obeyed, but, on his arrival, the Count declared that he had never despatched the messenger, and that mysterious person disappeared. The mind of the Count became filled with the fear of a supernatural interference, and of coming calamity. His anticipations were realized. He was killed the same night, and, with his last breath, delivered the chain to his brother, declaring that the demon had, by this timely interposition, preserved the infernal pledge to their posterity. It is still worn by the head of the 1853.] The Demon Chain. 171 house, with superstitious care, and its influence is thought to be in no wise impaired. The story was related to the author by Count Piper, of a collateral branch, now Secretary to the Swedish Mission at St. Petersburgh. Part I. Where sheer the beetling cliffs ascend above the Baltic foam, Of all the race who drew of yore their gallies on the strand, Hark! thou dread Power, of midnight hour, who grimly reigns below,' And barters all the joys of day for dim eternal woe, Full be my life of gallant strife, of pleasures and of fame, And brand upon thy vassal roll my tributary name!' Ere yet the impious accents all had melted on the air The watchful demon glided forth, and answered thus the prayer: 'Of every right my lieges know I henceforth make thee free, And with the boon I now bestow thy badge of fealty. Bind fast this chain upon thy breast, beneath thy shirt of steel, No lightning then shall strike thy mast, no rock shall rend thy keel; But fortune still shall point thy prow, and strength shall ply thine oar, 'Yet many a year of mirth and power shall gaily pass away Nor shrank that lord from such weird word, but claspt the cursed spell, Long, by the infernal angels fanned, his flag victorious flew, Part I. Now winter's breath o'er all the straits had laid its icy thrall, The faggot blazed upon the hearth, the cavaliers around, With flagon and with festive speech their martial leisure crowned; When sudden, from the gathering gloom, a stranger horseman spurred, And of their leader earnestly craved for a secret word. Sir Count!' he said, in haste and dread, 'thy brother doth me speed, 'Now rest thee, welcome messenger, and share our jovial cheer, Then swift across the frozen plain, and by the vaulted keep,* 'Ha! by Saint Bride, a gallant thought, thy laggard post to leave, I wot not of the fight, nor yet to share this peril sought, While thus they spake that horseman strange in silence passed away, Around the ranks from mouth to mouth, the whispered signal ran, Loud rang the challenge, and the trump its wild alarum pealed, Alas! how many a bounding plume of gentle youth went down, In sacred verse, with solemn curse, the priest hath banned that chain, Unscathed by fire and godly ire, it keeps the dreadful charm, * The castle of Kronborg, where the Kompe or champion of Denmark reposes for ages, seated on a marble chair, in a vault far below the ground. The palace of Friedrichsborg, built in a lake. The forest of Görre, where the ghost of King Valdemar is condemned to rove with spectral hounds, on account of his impious devotion to his dogs and his mistress. 1853.1 IT 173 BERTHA'S LOVE. PART II. was a strange sensation, the awakening from what seemed to me a long sleep. I had never had a severe illness in my life before, and when I opened my eyes languidly, and became feebly conscious of myself, I felt a vague wonderment whether I was reviving to the same existence, or to a new one. I tried to remember what I had been-what had happened before the long sleep came, but the mere effort of memory dizzied me, and I closed my eyes again, and lay passive, till a stir in the room aroused me. I felt some one draw near me. I looked, and saw Mary bending over my bed. soft The innocent face, the eyes, brought all back to my mind. I could not suppress a low cry, as I hid my face, and turned from her -remembering! She, poor child! uttered fond, soothing words to me, while her tears fell on my hands, my shrunken, pallid hands, which she clasped in her own, and ever and anon pressed lovingly to her lips. Then she gently raised my head, and supported it on her bosom. I had no strength to move away. I was constrained to lie still, and bear her caresses, only closing my eyes, that they might not meet the tender, steadfast gaze of hers. 6 'My darling, my darling Bertha,' she kept saying, you are better, you will be well now, thank Heaven!' And she, with her soft, cool hands smoothed the hair from my forehead, and then kissed it. 'You know me, don't you, dear?' she asked, presently. You will say one word to me?' What has been the matter?' I said, startled by a sudden fear. Have I been ill-delirious?' that they had for some hours despaired of my recovery. And it was for me, for me,' she went on; it was in saving me you nearly lost your life. Oh Bertha! if you had died.' A passionate burst of weeping choked her voice. I repeated softly to myself 'If I had died!-ah, if I had died!' 'It would have broken our hearts,' sobbed Mary,-'mine and-and Geoffrey's. We should never have been happy again. Poor Geoffrey !" she repeated, arousing herself suddenly, I am forgetting him in my own gladness. He has been waiting and watching in such terrible anxiety. I must run and tell him. Let him come and speak to you at the door.' 'No, no!' I cried, clutching her dress to detain her. You must not. I cannot-I cannot bear it.' I was too feeble to assume the faintest semblance of composure. Even when I caught her look of innocent surprise, I could not dissemble any the more. I fell back, closing my eyes, and hardly caring whether she suspected or not. But hers was too transparent a nature to suspect. She smoothed my pillow, and kissed my hot brows with her fresh lips-blaming herself the while, in low murmurs, for her thoughtlessness in exciting me. Then, she stole softly out of the room. Geoffrey must have been waiting in the next chamber. I heard his voice, uplifted in a rapturous thanksgiving his voice, blessing God that I was saved! Somehow, it fell on my heart with a strange pang, which yet was not all pain; and, like a thick cloud breaking and dissolving into rain, a heavy choking sob burst from me; and I wept blessed, gentle tears, such as I had never yet known. And then, exhausted, like a troubled child, I fell into a deep sleep. When I awoke, I heard subdued voices in the room. I distinguished Doctor Ledby's grave tones, pronouncing that I was now out of all danger; that I should recoverslowly, perhaps, but surely. Then M I felt some one come and hang over me as I lay, and, languidly opening my eyes, I saw my father gazing on me, with more affection expressed in his face than I had ever dreamed he cherished for me. It sent a thrill to my heart, half pleasure half remorseful pain, for the bitter things I had sometimes thought of his want of love for me. 'I am awake, father,' said I; and he kissed me tenderly, and with great emotion. 'We have been in much trouble about you, child,' said he, hoarsely. 'We thought-we thought He broke off, and turned hastily away. Then my step-mother came. Even she, cold and impassive as was her disposition, showed kindness, almost tenderness towards me now. She busied herself in settling my pillows, brought me a cooling draught, and in various ways testified her interest and solicitude. And she was habitually so indolent and indifferent, that such trifling offices assumed quite a new importance in her. 'Now then,' said she, sinking down in a chair, when her labours were concluded, 'I will sit by you for awhile. Your nurse is taking a walk in the shrubbery, by Doctor Ledby's desire. Poor child! she was quite pale and worn with watching so anxiously; and Geoffrey fairly dragged her out of the house.' I can see them now, walking together in the laurel path,' said my father, who was standing at the window. They are talking earnestly enough. They make a pretty pair of lovers.' 6 I could see them, too. I kept silence. Bertha, my dear,' added he, walking to my bedside again, and assuming something of his old manner, are you prepared to be a heroine in these parts ?-to have your name immortalized in guidebooks, and mis-pronounced by garrulous old women? I hear they already call that creek Bertha's,' and that rock The Escape.' And you may expect an ode and two or three sonnets, in the next Cornish Luminary.' I smiled. It may have been a very sickly smile, for my father again turned away, and again grew unwontedly grave. 'We must not talk too much to our invalid,' considerately said he. And he, with great caution, quitted the room. My remaining companion sat mute, and sorted her wools; while I lay, with clenched hands, and head buried in the pillow, and had time to think, and to remember, and to look forward. But I could do neither. Mentally, as well as physically, I was so weak that I was unable to penetrate the confused haze which enshrouded my thoughts. And in the vain endeavour to cleave through this chaos, consciousness partly floated from me, and, without being asleep, I lay as if in a dream, knowing where I was, and all that was passing around me, but in utter abeyance of all thought. In this state I heard Mary enter the room. I felt her come and look at me. Then followed a whispered conversation with some one else. Thenthen-Geoffrey stood at my bedside. I felt him there-his gaze fixed on my face. Once he touched my hand-he pressed his lips on it. Emotion seemed frozen within me. I lay passive the while-conscious of all, but still, and quiet. It was as if I were dead, and he bending over my corpse. 'Bless her-God bless her!' said he, presently, in a strangely broken and suppressed voice. But for her, oh, Mary! what had been my life now?' Hush, darling! came in the timid tones of Mary; you will awaken her.' He turned to her. In my strange waking trance, I seemed to see how he took her in his arms, and looked into her face. For a little time there was silence. God is very good,' said he at length, to have given two such dear ones to me, Mary, and to have preserved them both through the peril that threatened them. If even after you were saved, Bertha had died—' 'Oh, terrible, terrible!' murmured Mary, shuddering. Ah, dear Geoffrey! that would have been worse than all; far, far worse than if I' 'No, darling-there could be no worse than that.' Very quietly they talked, with a |