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the reason for this caution, a gilded lacquey of Count Reichendorf entered, to invite them, in the name of Miriam, to the palace of his master, where the beautiful Jewess reigned as a queen. A few minutes only elapsed before Lorenzo was at the feet of Bertha, from whom he gained permission to apply to the Baron Von Mildenthal. His inquiries concerning Mordecai were satisfactorily answered: he bore too bad a reputation with the people of his tribe to be considered trust-worthy for a single stiver; and Montesecco, having hallowed his wealth by devoting a part to the church and to charitable purposes, led his fair bride to the altar, and conducted her to a splendid domain, purchased in the bright land from which he had fled in sorrow and indigence.

SECRET LOVE.

Why do I thus unconscious start
Each time my fair one meets my eye?

Why flutters thus my rebel heart

So wildly, while she passes by?

Why is it that my lips deny

To breathe the wish my bosom feels,
While every blush, and every sigh,

The secret of my love reveals?

Ah! who shall bid that heart be still,

Whose chords are struck by Nature's hand;

Or who with power shall arm the will
O'er passion still to hold command!
Yet, if her looks the truth express,
I have not cause to languish so;

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THE MIDNIGHT WIND.

BY WILLIAM MOTHERWELL.

Mournfully! oh, mournfully

This midnight wind doth sigh,
Like some sweet plaintive melody
Of ages long gone by.
It speaks a tale of other years-
Of hopes that bloomed to die;
Of sunny smiles that set in tears;
And loves that mouldering lie.

Mournfully! oh, mournfully

This midnight wind doth moan!
It stirs some chord of memory,
In each dull heavy tone.
The voices of the much-loved dead
Seem floating thereupon;

All, all this fond heart cherished
Ere death had made it lone.

Mournfully! oh, mournfully

This midnight wind doth swell
Its wild heart-broken minstrelsy,
Like love's last faint farewell!

It thrilleth through the heart its deep
And melancholy knell,

Waking the thoughts that bid us weep

The grief we may not tell!

THE BRAMIN'S WELL.

"Tout a ete traite en fables et en allegories chez les orientaux."

IN former days, the city of Hastinapur was the capital of India; but so destructive is time, that we cannot now discover a vestige of its ruins. It was very famous, and very magnificent. The markets blazed with silks, and fumed with oriental spices. Idlers and voluptuaries found them an agreeable place of resort; and the beauties of Hindostan were seen passing, in a state of irresolution, from one booth to another, while the cautious merchant No. 7.

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adhered to his price, nor allowed himself to forget his interest, although beset by many a soft voice and beautiful pair of eyes.

One afternoon, a person of singular aspect entered the city. His dress resembled that of a Bramin; but he had a living serpent fastened round his waist instead of a girdle. Wherever he went, a crowd of spectators attended; and when he had come to a convenient place, he turned and addressed them as follows: May Brama long continue to shower down favours on the citizens of Hastinapur. Their town is the fairest in the world; their societies are the most polished; and their women the most enchanting. But no spot, however favoured, can boast of exemption from the griefs and evils of humanity. I have heard that sickness groans even in these delightful palaces: and that the music of those who divert themselves at evening on the holy waters of the Ganges, comes to many an ear which is unable to participate in the general gladness. Health is the door to every other blessing; the gratifications of sense cannot reach us but through the medium of sound organs. Intellect is benumbed when a host of uneasy sensations is continually disturbing the regular sequence of our thoughts; and imagination, that capricious and easily offended power, requires that pain shall be driven off the stage, before any of her fairy pageants are exhibited.

"Listen, therefore, to what I am going to relate: A Bramin, distinguished for his piety, has again discovered that miraculous well of which we read in the Puranas. For many ages it hath been concealed beneath a rock overblown with sand; and its healing influence has all the while been lost to the human species. A dream sent from the gods has now restored the knowledge of its situation, which is about a league eastward of Hastinapur. Let such, therefore, as are inclined follow me to the spot; they will find the venerable man of whom I have spoken, waiting with his gourd to dispense its waters, and com

municate gaiety and lightsomeness, even to the most unhappy constitutions."

This harangue was received with shouts of satisfaction. Every invalid and hypochondriac went immediately to order his palanquin; and the news being spread with rapidity, produced a commotion over the whole city. Among other places, it reached the veranda of a young lady, whose name was Badoura, and who sat languishing under the influence of a half-pleasing half-painful sensation, which she could not understand. The seat of it was in her bosom; and the first symptoms had occurred after looking at a very handsome youth, who sometimes came to amuse himself with dressing the parterres of a neighbouring garden. This charming girl thought she could do no better than join the pilgrims, and get a cup of water along with the rest. In the meantime, as she could not have the use of a palanquin without imparting her design to a very peevish and untractable aunt, she called on a favourite slave to attend her as she walked, and shade her with an umbrella.

Towards evening, a large procession was seen to quit the walls of Hastinapur. It was led by the Bramin, who did not long continue to follow the public highway, but struck off towards a range of solitary mountains, where the town of Hastinapur was soon lost to view. Night began to thicken; a doleful breeze whistled among the rocks, and the faint-hearted citizens became dispirited at the length of the journey. They told their conductor that they had already gone more than a league, and desired to know when his well and his Bramin would become visible. To these clamours he replied in a soothing manner, drawing on the party step by step, until he had brought them within the jaws of a gloomy valley. There he left them, and his place was supplied by a troop of banditti. The rich palanquins were plundered. The women shrieked, and the slaves fled, Badoura took refuge in a thicket; and prayed to Vishnoo that she might

rather fall into the paws of a leopard than a robber. She was in hopes that her female slave would observe where she had gone, and repair to the same spot; but after waiting with anxiety till the noise of the combat had ceased, and the sound of the voices had removed to a distance, she found she was still alone, in the midst of utter darkness. It seemed, therefore, prudent to seek for an outlet, and she went slowly forward, groping along the trunks of the trees, and shrinking back when the cold and rugged bark came in contact with her innocent bosom. After some time she cleared the wood, and found herself near one of those immense caves where the disciples of Buddha were in use to perform their devotions before that religion was expelled from Hindostan.

Badoura trembled and entered. An extraordinary scene broke upon her sight. The cave was illuminated with a profusion of chandeliers, and the whole party of invalids and hypochondriacs were sitting down to a collation formed of the choicest materials at that time used in the East. But what surprised her more than all, was to see the principal physician in Hastinapur taking his seat at the upper end of the table. Before doing the honours of the place, he addressed them in the following terms:

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I hope my fellow-citizens will pardon this innocent frolic, which has been contrived for no other purpose than their own advantage. My presence here excites astonishment; but that astonishment will cease, when it is known that I am the person, who, under the disguise of a Bramin, led you astray among these mountains, and employed a troop of my own servants to bring you here by force where you see that I have not neglected to prepare for your reception.

"During my practice in Hastinapur, I have, a thousand times, been consulted upon diseases which had no existence but in the fancy of the patient, and which arose from nothing but mere ennui and vacuity of mind. In cases like these, I have always frankly confessed that

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