of state, the scepter of power, and, five days after the inauguration of Adams, returned here to his Mount Vernon home. And here the good servant, whom his Lord, when he came, found watching and ready, calmly yielded up his breath, exclaiming, "It is well!" and his spirit was wafted to heaven by the blessings of his enfranchised countrymen.

Such were the events upon which Herman and Jessie conversed during the hours that glided away at Mount Vernon.

Herman could not but wonder, and not wholly without in dignation, that while the earthly dwellings of so many men, rendered illustrious by their genius or their great deeds, were held sacred in the old world, this home of America's peerless patriot, the most hallowed ground of the new land, had not been snatched from the chances of profanation and ruin, and set apart as a shrine to which young and old might make pilgrimages, and be inspired with holy and patriotic emotions as they visited the scenes consecrated by the memory—the virtues of the departed hero.

"The day for that token of a nation's reverence must-will come"-answered Jessie confidently. "The land is young—it has not had time, in its bustling struggle for existence, to claim to itself the tomb upon which the spirit of liberty sits enthroned. But Mount Vernon will not be desecrated. If governments are forgetful, there are too many grateful hearts in the breasts of American women for Mount Vernon, the home of their father, to become a ruin. What did you tell me of the raising of the Bunker Hill Monument? When men shrank at the prospect of failure, did not woman press forward and finish what their brothers began? And may not the efforts of the faithful and devoted women of the land preserve, enshrine Mount Vernon. "Enthusiast!" said Herman, "do you suppose they could accomplish such an Herculean task?"

"Yes," replied Jessie with fervor, "that, or any good and holy work to which they devote their best energies. Let but a master-spirit (heaven-appointed) lead them and mark out the way-one noble, self-sacrificing and wholly unselfish, patriotic woman, and thousands of hands and hearts will labor with her they will share her laurels, but the work will truly be hers, and it w surely be accomplished."

At this moment the sounding of a bell gave warning that the boat was about to return, and they reluctantly retraced their steps to the wharf.

UNA AND THE LION.-SPENSER.

Yet she, most faithful lady, all this while,
Forsaken, woful, solitary maid,

Far from all people's press, as in exile,
In wilderness and wasteful deserts stray'd,
To seek her knight, who subtily betray'd

Through that late vision which the enchanter wrought
Had her abandon'd. She, of naught afraid,

Through woods and wasteness wide him daily sought, Yet wished tidings none of him unto her brought.

One day nigh weary of the irksome way,
From her unhasty beast she did alight,
And on the grass her dainty limbs did lay
In secret shadow far from all men's sight:
From her fair head her fillet she undight
And laid her stole aside: her angel's face
As the great eye of heaven shinéd bright,
And made a sunshine in the shady place?
Did never mortal eye behold such heavenly grace.

It fortuned, out of the thickest wood
A ramping lion rushéd suddenly,
Hunting full greedy after savage blood:
Soon as the royal virgin he did spy,
With gaping mouth at her ran greedily,
To have at once devour'd her tender corse;
But to the prey when as he drew more nigh,
His bloody rage assuagèd with remorse,

And with the sight amaz'd, forgot his furious force.

Instead thereof he kissed her weary feet,
And lick'd her lily hand with fawning tongue;
As he her wrongèd innocence did weet.
O how can beauty master the most strong,
And simple truth subdue avenging wrong!
Whose yielded pride and proud submission,
Still dreading death when she had marked long
Her heart 'gan melt in great compassion:
And drizzling tears did shed for pure affectiön.

"The lion, lord of every beast in field,"
Quoth she, "his princely puissance doth abate,
And mighty proud to humble weak does yield,
Forgetful of the hungry rage, which late
Him pricked with pity of my sad estate-
But he my lion and my noble lord,

How does he find in cruel heart to hate
Her that him lov'd, and ever most ador'd

As the god of my life? Why hath he me abhorr'd ?"

THE DIVER-SCHILLER.

"Oh, where is the knight or the squire so bold,
As to dive to the howling charybdis below ?—
I cast into the whirlpool a goblet of gold,

And o'er it already the dark waters flow;
Whoever to me may the goblet bring,
Shall have for his guerdon that gift of his king.”

He spoke, and the cup from the terrible steep,

That, rugged and hoary, hung over the verge
Of the endless and measureless world of the deep,
Swirl'd into the maëlstrom that maddened the surge
"And where is the diver so stout to go-

I ask ye again-to the deep below?"

And the knights and the squires that gather'd around,
Stood silent-and fix'd on the ocean their eyes;
They look'd on the dismal and savage profound,

And the peril chill'd back every thought of the prize.
And thrice spoke the monarch-" The cup to win,
Is there never a wight who will venture in ?"

And all as before heard in silence the king

Till a youth with an aspect unfearing but gentle,
'Mid the tremulous squires-stept out from the ring,
Unbuckling his girdle, and doffing his mantle;
And the murmuring crowd, as they parted asunder,
On the stately boy cast their looks of wonder.

As he strode to the marge of the summit, and gave
One glance on the gulf of that merciless main;
Lo the wave that for ever devours the wave,

Casts roaringly up the charybdis again;
And, as with the swell of the far thunder-boom,
Rushes foamingly forth from the heart of the gloom.

And it bubbles and seethes, and it hisses and roars,
As when fire is with water commix'd and contending;
And the spray of its wrath to the welkin up-soars,
And flood upon flood hurries on, never ending.
And it never will rest, nor from travail be free,
Like a sea that is laboring the birth of a sea.

And at last there lay open the desolate realm!

Through the breakers that whiten'd the waste of the swell, Dark-dark yawned a cleft in the midst of the whelm,

The path to the heart of that fathomless hell.

Round and round whirl'd the waves-deep and deeper still driven, Like a gorge thro' the mountainous main thunder-riven.

The youth gave his trust to his Maker! Before

That path through the riven abyss closed again—
Hark! a shriek from the crowd rang aloft from the shore,
And, behold! he is whirl'd in the grasp of the main!
And o'er him the breakers mysteriously roll'd,
And the giant-mouth closed on the swimmer so bold.

O'er the surface grim silence lay dark and profound,
But the deep from below murmur'd hollow and fell;
And the crowd, as it shudder'd, lamented aloud-

"Gallant youth-noble heart-fare-thee-well, fare-thee-well!" And still ever deepening that wail as of woe, More hollow the gulf sent its howl from below.

If thou should'st in those waters thy diadem fling,

And cry,

"Who may find it shall win it, and wear;" God's wot, though the prize were the crown of a kingA crown at such hazard were valued too dear.

For never did lips of the living reveal,

What the deeps that howl yonder in terror conceal.

O many a ship, to that breast grappled fast,

Has gone down to the fearful and fathomless grave; Again, crash'd together, the keel and the mast,

To be seen, toss'd aloft in the glee of the wave.— Like the growth of a storm ever louder and clearer, Grows the roar of the gulf rising nearer and nearer.

And it bubbles and seethes, and it hisses and roars,
As when fire is with water commix'd and contending;
And the spray of its wrath to the welkin up-soars,
And flood upon flood hurries on, never ending.
And, as with the swell of the far thunder-boom,
Rushes roaringly forth from the heart of the gloom.

And, lo! from the heart of that far-floating gloom,
What gleams on the darkness so swanlike and white?
Lo! an arm and a neck, glancing up from the tomb!-
They battle-the Man's with the Element's might.
It is he-it is he!-in his left hand behold,
As a sign—as a joy !-shines the goblet of gold!

And he breathèd deep, and he breathèd long,

And he greeted the heavenly delight of the day. They gaze on each other-they shout as they throng"He lives-lo the ocean has rendered its prey!

And out of the grave where the Hell began,

His valor has rescued the living man!"

And he comes with the crowd in their clamor and glee,
And the goblet his daring has won from the water,

He lifts to the king as he sinks on his knee;

And the king from her maidens has beckoned his daughte:

And he bade her the wine to his cup-bearer bring,
And thus spake the Diver-" Long life to the king!

"Happy they whom the rose-hues of daylight rejoice,
The air and the sky that to mortals are given !
May the horror below never more find a voice-

Nor Man stretch too far the wile mercy of Heaven! Never more-never more may he ift from the mirror, The Veil which is woven with NIGHT and with TERROR !

"Quick-brightening like lightning-it tore me along,
Down, down, till the gush of a torrent at play,
In the rocks of its wilderness caught me-and strong
As the wings of an eagle, it whirled me away.
Vain, vain were my struggles-the circle had won me,
Round and round in its dance the wild element spun me.

"And I call'd on my God, and my God heard my prayer, In the strength of my need, in the gasp of my breathAnd show'd me a crag that rose up from the lair,

And I clung to it, trembling-and baffled the death' And, safe in the perils around me, behold

On the spikes of the coral the goblet of gold.

"Below, at the foot of that precipice drear,

Spread the gloomy, and purple, and pathless obscure! A Silence of Horror that slept on the ear,

That the eye more appall'd might the Horror endure!
Salamander-snake-dragon-vast reptiles that dwell
In the deep-coil'd about the grim jaws of their hell.

"Dark-crawl'd-glided dark the unspeakable swarms,
Like masses unshapen, made life hideously—
Here clung and here bristled the fashionless forms--
Here the Hammer-fish darken'd the dark of the sea-
And with teeth grinning white, and a menacing motion,
Went the terrible Shark-the Hyena of Ocean.

"There I hung, and the awe gather'd icily o'er me,

So far from the earth where man's help there was none ! The One Human Thing, with the Goblins before meAlone-in a loneness so ghastly-ALONE! Fathom-deep from man's eye in the speechless profound, With the death of the Main and the Monsters around.

"Methought, as I gazed through the darkness, that now A hundred-limb'd creature caught sight of its prey, And darted-O God! from the far-flaming bough

Of the coral, I swept on the horrible way;
And it seized me, the wave with its wrath and its roar,
It seized me to save-King, the danger is o'er!"'

On the youth gazed the monarch, and marvel'd-quoth he "Bold Diver, the goblet I promised is thine,