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had proposed to join him as first officer, in the vessel which he was about to fit out. It appeared that this young man had but a few days returned from Ireland, where he had married a young woman, to whom he had been some time attached, and that his disinclination to leave his young wife made him at first refuse the offer made by Spicer. Spicer, however, who was aware of his value, would not lose sight of him, and contrived, when Fitzgerald had taken too much wine, to win of him by unfair means about 1500l. Spicer then offered Fitzgerald a release from the debt provided he would sail with him; and he exacted as a farther condition that he should not return, and take a farewell of his wife. To these harsh terms, Fitzgerald being without means of liquidating the debt, consented, and they sailed accordingly. "And now, Jack, I will tell you why I was so serious about that spy-glass. I knew it the moment that I saw it in your hands that it was one that belonged to Fitzgerald, when we were on our first cruise together. It was the best glass I ever met with. When we left Liverpool this time, I asked him for the spy-glass, and he told me that expecting to return to his wife before he sailed, he had left it at home. How it came into the lady's hands I can't tell." "I never said that Lady Hercules gave it to me, replied I, although I did not undeceive you when you thought so. The fact is, it was given me by a very pretty young Irish widow." Then, Jack, I should not wonder if she was not the wife of Fitzgerald, whom I have been talking about; but that I leave to you. Let me finish my story. When we arrived on the Spanish coast I had as fine a crew with me as ever were on board of a vessel; but I had long made up my mind that I would hoist the black flag. Yes, Jack, it is but too true. But when I proposed it, Fitzgerald declared that the first act of piracy that was committed he would leave the vessel. I tried all I could to persuade him, but in vain. However, we did take an English vessel, and plundered her. Upon this Fitzgerald protested, and half the crew, at least, joined him. I threatened the men to shoot them through the head; but they were resolute; and, being rather the stronger party, I dared not make any attempt. They insisted upon leaving the vessel; and I, not being able to help it, landed them all in the Bay of Honduras, where I thought it very possible they would be taken by the Spaniards, and imprisoned, if not hanged. They were imprisoned; but, after some time, they were released. The desertion of Fitzgerald and the other men left me with my vessel half manned; and I vowed vengeance against him if ever I had an opportunity. I now cruised as a pirate, ahd was very successful, and my name was a terror to those seas. A high reward was offered for me, dead or alive, which pleased me much, and I became more murderous than ever. Jack, all this rises up in judgement against me now; and I recollect every single life taken away by me, or by my orders, as well as if I had noted them down in a book. May God forgive me!" continued Spicer, covering his eyes up for a

time.

After a pause he continued, "I had ordered a vessel with a valuable cargo to be taken on a rendezvous we had in the Caicos; but it was recaptured and taden into Port Royal, Jamaica. As the proofs of the piracy were well established, the men on board were thrown into prison to take their trial. I heard of this, for I was often on shore in disguise in one island or another, and a scheme entered my head which I thought would benefit myself and wreak my vengeance upon Fitzgerald. But I must leave off now. Here comes the chaplain; he promised to talk with me this evening, and you see that I have changed my opinion on that point, praised be God for it. Good night, Jack, come to-morrow."

THE GAME AT CHESS.

BY LAMAN BLANCHARD, ESQ.

Love with a Lady-would you know
Her name, then read this heart, for there
'T is written, like the words of wo,
Imprinted in the hyacinth fair-
Love with a Lady played-but where,
Or when, or how, 't is yours to guess:
Enough if we this truth declare-
Love with a Lady played at Chess!

Most innocent, and calm, and high
The mind which in that Lady's face
Was mirrored, as the morning-sky
In a clear brook's green dwelling-place;
And, robed in each serenost grace,
She mused, more tranquil than the dove;
So there, as time flew on apace
The Lady played at Chess with Love.
"T was like a dream to see them play;
So deeply, marvelously still,
And hushed in charmed thought, sat they,
One influence of the tyrant will
Controlling both, for well or ill!
And surely in that silentness

Angels, on heaven's own azure hill,
Watched the sweet Pair who played at Chess.
But see, a smile succeeds to doubt

In her fair eyes-they see "the move;" And swift as thought she stretches out Her small white hand, without a glove, And moves the piece-below, above, Across, on all sides, unafraid,

Joy in her soul; and thus with Love Her game at Chess the Lady played. What is the world, and what is life, To her whose heart is in the game! The bliss of that ingenious strife

Is dear to her as health or fame! With whomsoe'er she plays, the same; E'en losing has some power to bless;

And were Love dead, she 'd feel no shame To sit with Hatred down to Chess! Love, brooding o'er the board, grows dull, And, beaten, seems but half awake; Her hope meanwhile grows ripe and full, She takes whate'er she wills to take; When lo! what nothings sometimes make A mighty shock! That Lady's lip

Quivers with some convulsive ache-
Her hand just touched Love's finger-tip.
Her heedless hand! while wandering o'er,
Eager to snatch the ivory prize,

It touched Love's lightly, once-no more!
How can a touch thus paralyze!
How flush her cheek, how fire her eyes!
How fill her soul with sweet distress,
Delight, despair, beyond disguise,
And make her lose that game at Chess!
His eyes had been on hers for hours,

Yet knew she not that Love had gazed;
His breath had warmed her cheek's rich flowers,
And still these thoughts were all unraised.
Now sits the like a thing amazed;
Her chance at every move grows less;

She plays at random-one so crazed
Ne'er lost or gained a game at Chess.
Thoughts of the player now crowd above
Thoughts of the game, that else would press;
She only feels she plays with Love,
She does not know she plays at Chess.
Her dog might spring with wild caress,
Mother or sister tilt the board,

And she know no emotion less,
Or more, of all her heart must hoard!
King, Queen, that heart hath quite forgot;
No Knight hath sway there, but a swain;
No Castle seeks she, but a Cot;

No Bishop, but a curate plain.
Such is Love's fine electric chain;
One touch has done it! Need he sue?
No; ere he 'd time to touch again,
He'd won the game-and Lady too!

The English Post Office authorities warn all persons against the practice of sealing letters to and from the East and West Indies, and other warm climates, with wax, as it is attended with much inconvenience, and frequently with very serious injury to the letters, in consequence of the melting of the wax, and adhesion of the letters to each other.

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DIALOGUE BETWEEN TO-DAY, TO-MORROW AND

THE PAST,

are

SCENE. The Abyss of space. In the distance "the Hours" seen preparing to unbar the gates of Olympus, near which the hands of an illuminated clock point to ten minutes to twelve. The Spirit of the Past meantime eyes both speakers from a little distance with impatient contempt.

TO-MORROW. I come with radiant promise bright,

The wretch bow'd down by care and toil
Hopes better prospects from the light
Which ushers in To-morrow's smile.
The needy courtier in disgrace,-

The gamester who has lost at play,—
The belle with pimple on her face,—
All look to me, and curse To-day.

TO-DAY. What! all? Doth he, poor wretch, who, tried,
And doomed next day to dance on air,
While muffins hot beneath are cried,—
Doth he, too, wish thy tender care?
Then think not, fool, to shake my throne,

To me, well pleased, all yield their senses;
The presence of To-day all own,
But conjugate no future tenses.

TO-MORROW. A pretty monarch! one day old,

In sooth your subjects an't too civil;
For half them, if the truth were told,
Would wish you fairly at the devil!
In you the rich man finds ennui,

The poor man cares unceasing still;
And both together sigh for me,

While striving you and Time to kill.

TO-DAY. And yet 't was I—a steady friend

Who watched the hour which gave man birth; In me he lives until the end,

When sound he rests with mother Earth.
"T is I alone, 'mid all his sorrows,

Whom Death himself can't take away;
For though he take ten thousand morrows,
Yet, d me, all have had To-day.

TO-MORROW. And what art thou who dar'st to boast
Thy love for man? Though all his woes
In thee are felt, and in thee lost

The short lived joys to thee he owes-
You gave him birth to give him death.

To me he looks with hope, not pain;
Ev'n when you claim his latest breath,
Then most he longs for me again.

TO-DAY. What is the Past-a ghost which scares,
Yet cannot make me joy or mourn:
"T is gone with all its hopes and cares,
And, thank my stars, it can't return.
The Future into me must melt,

Else but an empty hope or fear,
I only live-alone am felt;
I only reign eternal here!

TO-MORROW. As 'twixt two fields of fertile green,

The pass a worthless gate may be,
So thou a union vile art seen
Dangling between the Past and me:
As Mahomet his coffin hung

Midway between the earth and sky,
Ev'n so between us thou art swung,

Though scorned by both, vain atomy!
TO-DAY. When cash is low, and bills run high,
One still makes shift enough to borrow
My modest wants to satisfy,

But not the cravings of To-morrow. "T is thine to exercise thy spite

On that, which else had cheer'd man's sorrow The wine which gives him bliss to-night Gives only headaches on the morrow. TO-MORROW. When cash is low, then greedy ever, Thy wants are no less strong or real; While all well know that man can never To-day To-morrow's hunger feel: And man with me no pain would find, But for your punch, wine, and October; You teach the vice of drinking blind, The moral I of growing sober.

TO-DAY. AS Sisyphus up hill's steep way

Roll'd on the stone, but roll'd in vain,
The hopes man rolls so high to-day,
To-morrow thou roll'st down again :
As Tantalus, 'mid hell's wild laughter,
Followed the running stream of yore;
So runs the world pell-mell after,

While still To-morrow runs before.
TO-MORROW [here the clock strikes twelve].

Where art thou now? Ha! answer where-
Thee to the Past a clock can send ;
While I a second birth find there,
Where you, vain boaster! find your end.
But, soft! I must no longer scorn

That which myself hath chased away-
Another Morrow, lo! is born,
To be, as I am now, To-day.

TO-DAY. I die-yet dying, end the dance

You had all here, though from man's eye
You skulk-still keeping in advance,
And farthest off when closest by:
For, hark! while midnight chimes proclaim
TO-MORROW must no more delay,

Vile sycophant! you change your name,
And court man's welcome as To-DAY,

Here the PAST rises, and after a short pause exclaims:
Peace, babbling fools! nor break my sound repose;
Here sleep with me man's former joys and woes-
All, all are mine-the hope, the smile, the tear-
The poet's fancies, and the miser's fear-
Youth's buoyant step-stern manhood's after care-
All that the patriot hopes, or heroes dare;
The freshness of the heart when life is young,
And its strange chords by grief as yet unstrung.
The infant's weakness-ripen'd manhood's strength-
These are my heritage, are mine at length;
The ruin'd column, and the time-worn tower,
With silent eloquence proclaim my power;
Old friendships-youthful loves are mine at last,
And history's brightest page records the PAST.
Then let To-morrow with To-day contend,
Yet struggle as they may in me both end.
Their pretty rivulets must ceaseless glide,
Without an object save to swell my tide:
As streams because they cannot help it flow,
And trees for want of better business grow.
Yet, if some speak the truth, a time shall see
The time, when Time, himself, shall cease to be.
Then ALL SHALL BE THE PAST. Yet what is Time?
That strange, mysterious, fathomless, sublime!
His only heir I claim the arduous task,
That solemn secret to disclose

LAMBDA.

MARRIAGE CEREMONY.-The most interesting customs originate with a people who are just passing from a state of barbarism to that of semi-civilization. That is what may be termed the romantic era in a nation's history; and, as the people advance in civilization, these curious customs become digested of all that is gross, and their superstitious character is tolerated after it ceases to be believed. In the Greek Island of Santa Maura, when the bride and bridegroom jcin hands, they are immediately separated by a young man; in consequence of which ceremony, a firm belief is entertained In some villages on the that their first born will be a son. same island, on the wedding-day, the bridegroom is conducted at the first appearance of day-light to an open place, and seated in a chair, when two men immediately begin, the one to comb his hair, and the other to lather his face, As a compenThese operations are continued till sunset.

sation for these jocose ceremonies, a basin is placed at his feet to receive contributions, each person throwing into it a few pieces of money. In this way is made up a kind of marriage dowry.

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THE TOWER OF LONDON."

A HISTORICAL ROMANCE.

BY W. HARRISON AINSWORTH,
Author of 'Crichton,' 'Jack Sheppard,' and ‘Rookwood,'

BOOK THE SECOND....MARY THE QUEEN. XXIII....How Xit was imprisoned in the Constable Tower; and how he was wedded to the "Savenger's Daughter." Persuading himself that his capture was matter of jest, Xit kept up his braggadocio air and gait, until he found himself within a few paces of the Constable Tower, a fortification situated on the east of the White Tower, and resembling in its style of architecture, though somewhat smaller in size, the corresponding structure on the west, the Bauchamp Tower. As Nightgall pointed to this building, and told him with a malicious grin that it was destined to be his lodging, the dwarf's countenance fell. All his heroism forsook him: and casting a half-angry, half-fearful look at his guards, who were laughing loudly at his terrors, he darted suddenly backward, and made toward a door in the north-east turret of the White Tower.

the object of this consultation had been discovered from be low. His screams and antics had attracted the attention of a large crowd, among whom were his friends the giants.Alarmed at his arrest, they had followed to see what became of him, and were passing the foot of the turret at the very moment when he had reached its summit. Xit immediately recognized them, and hailed them at the top of his voice.At first, they were unable to make out whence the noise proceeded; but at length, Gog chancing to look up, perceived the dwarf, and pointed him out to his companions.

Xit endeavored to explain his situation, and to induce the giants to rescue him; but they could not hear what he said, and only laughed at his gestures and vociferations. Nightgall now called to him in a peremptory tone to come down. Xit refused, and, pointing to the crown in which he was seated, screamed, "I have won it, and am determined not to resign it. I am now in the loftiest position in the Tower. Let him bring me down who can.'

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"I will be no longer trifled with," roared Nightgall."Lend me your arquebuss, Winwike. If there is no other way of dislodging that mischievous imp, I will shoot him as I would a jackdaw."

Seeing he was in earnest, Xit thought fit to capitulate. A rope was thrown him which he fastened to the vane, and af ter bowing to the assemblage, waving his cap to the giants, and performing a few other antics, he slided down to the leads in safety. He was then seized by Nightgall, and though Nightgall and the guards, not contemplating any such at he promised to march as before between between his guards, tempt, were taken completely by surprise, but immediately and make no further attempt to escape, he was carried, much started after him. Darting between the legs of the sentinel to his discomfiture-for even in his worst scrapes he had an stationed at the entrance of the turret, who laughingly pre-eye to effect-to the Constable Tower, and locked up in the sented his partizan at him, Xit hurried up the circular stair- lower chamber. case leading to the roof. His pursuers were quickly after kim, shouting to him to stop, and threatening to punish him severely when they caught him. But the louder they shouted, the swifter the dwarf fled; and, being endowed with extraordinary agility, arrived, in a few seconds, at the doorway leading to the roof. Here half-a-dozen soldiers, summoned by the cries, were assembled to stop the fugitive. On seeing Xit, with whose person they were well acquainted never supposing he could be the runaway,—they inquired what was

the matter.

"The prisoner! the prisoner!" shouted Xit, instantly per ceiving their mistake, and pushing through them, "Where is he? What have you done with him?''

"No one has passed us," replied the soldiers. "Who is it?" "Lawrence Nighlgall," replied Xit, keeping as clear of them as he could. "He has been arrested by an order from the privy council, and has escaped."

At this moment, Nightgall made his appearance, and was instantly seized by the soldiers. An explanation quickly ensued, but, in the mean time, Xit had flown across the roof, and, reaching the opposite turret at the sout-east angle, sprang upon the platform, and clambering up the side of the building at the hazard of his neck, contrived to squeeze himself through a loophole.

“We have him safe enough," cried one of soldiers, as he witnessed Xit's manœuvre. "Here is the key of the door opening into that turret, and he cannot get below."

So saying, he unlocked the door and admitted the whole party into a small square chamber, in one corner of which they mounted, and as they gained the room above, they perwas the arched entrance to a flight of stone steps. Up these ceived the agile mannakin creeping through the embrazure. "Have a care!" roared Nightgall, who beheld this prooeeding with astonishment; "You will fall into the court below and be dashed to pieces."

Xit replied by a loud laugh, and disappered. When Nightgall gained the outlet, he could see nothing of him, and after calling to him for some time and receiving no answer, the party adjourned to the leads, where they found he had gained the cupola of the turret, and having clambered up the vane, had seated himself in the crown by which it was surmounted. In this elevated, and as he fancied, secure position, he derided his pursuers, and, snapping off a piece of the iron work, threw it at Nightgall, and with so good an aim that it struck him in

the face.

A council of war was now held, and it was resolved to summon the fugitive to surrender; when, if he refused to comply, means must be taken to dislodge him. Meanwhile,

* Continued from page 627.

"So, it has come to this," he cried, as the door was barred outside by Nightgall. "I am now a state prisoner in the Tower. Well, I only share the fate of all court favorites and great men-of the Dudleys, and Rochfords, the Howarke, the Nevills, the Courtenays, and many others whose names do not occur to me. I ought rather to rejoice than be cast down that I am thus distinguished. But what will be the result of it? Perhaps, I shall be condemned to the block. If I am, what matter? I always understood from Mauger that decapitation was an easy death-and then what a crowd there will be to witness my execution-Xit's execution-the execution of the fa will be nothing to it. With what an air I shall ascend the steps mous dwarf of the Tower! The Duke of Northumberland's -how I shall bow to the assemblage—how I shall raise up Mauger when he bends his lame leg to ask my forgiveness-how I shall pray with the priest-address the assemblage-take off my ruff and doublet, and adjust my head on the block! One blow and all is over. One blow-sometimes, it takes two or three-but Mauger understands his business, and my neck will be easily divided. That's one advantage, among others, of being a dwarf. But to return to my execution. It will be a glorious death, and one worthy of me. I have half a mind to con over what I shall say to the assembled multitude. Let me see. Hold! it occurs to me that I shall not be seen for the railing. i must beg Mauger to allow me to stand on the block. I make no doubt he will indulge me if not, I will not forgive him. I have witnessed several executions, but I never yet beheld what I should call a really good death. I must try to realize my own notions. But I am getting on a little too fast. I am neither examined, nor sentenced yet.other. I could bear any thing in public, where there are Examined! that reminds me of the rack. I hope they won't torture me. To be beheaded is one thing-to be tortured so many people to look at me, and applaud me-but in private it is quite another affair. The very sight of the rack would throw me into fits. And then suppose I should be sentenced to be burnt, like Edward Underhill-no, I won't suppose that for a moment. It makes me quite hot to think of it. Fool that I was, to be seduced by the hope of rank and dignity held out to me by the French embassador, to embark in plots which place me in such jeopardy as this! However, I will reveal nothing. I will be true to my employer."

Communing thus with himself, Xit paced to and fro within his prison, which was a tolerably spacious apartment, semicircular in form, and having deep recesses in the walls, which were of great thickness. As he glanced around, an idea oc curred to him, "Every prisoner of consequence confined within the lower carves his name on the walls," he said."I must carve mine, to serve as a memorial of my imprison

ment.

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The only implement left him was his dagger, and using it

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