of departed greatness, and dropping the tear of pity over the untimely fall of royal splendour. The hollow-sounding organ peals through the arched cloisters, and the death-watch burns dimly by the bier of England's monarch. He hath passed away like the light of a meteor— like the bark that floats gently down the stream of time; and all that is now known of him, is, that he once was! LHAM-DEARG; OR, The Legend of Bloody-Hand. The Forest of Glenmore, in the Northern Highlands, is believed to be haunted by a Spirit called Lham-Dearg, in the array of an ancient warrior having a Bloody-Hand, from which he takes his name-" He insists upon all those whom he meets doing battle with him."-Note to Marmion, Canto III. SAY peasant, why streams from yon forest a light, A stranger, I travel far distant from home, "Oh traveller! I pray thee, now enter my gate, Come, enter, thou'rt welcome till midnight is o'er, Many years have I dwelt, sweet Contentment my guest, Come, seat thee, the faggot rekindled shall blaze, Then mark, as the tale to thy ears I reveal, From time immemorial in Glenmore's dread shade, Like a warrior he prowls, clad in armour so bright, On his casque a red plume fans the chilling night air, And if they forget to their Maker to pray, The demon's keen steel to their breasts find its way; While his hand plucks the heart from the wound he hath made, All the demons dance round as he carves with his blade. To each he aportions the horrid repast, And the banquet of blood is devoured full fast! Thou start'st-but each word that I tell thee, is true, And many whose kindred have there met their doom, Will shrink when thought bears them to Glenmore's dread gloom. Laird Duncan was brave as the lion in war, In yon castle he dwelt, which is seen from afar, The spot were their master so horribly died. When our monarch so bold to the field bent his way, But his bosom was fickle, and wavering, and strange, And his eyes would a passion, ne'er thought of declare. He wooed lovely Morna, and gained her soft heart; And swore from her arms he would never depart; "Oh believe me," he cried, "I have wavered before, But trust me, sweet maid, I will waver no more!" Lovely Morna was fair, but of gold she had none- Macdonald's proud heiress his bride soon became, Now raised to the summit of splendour and state, His heart ne'er was humbled in prayer to his God, One eve as he traversed near Glenmore's dark shade, 'Tis true, though his courage long dormant had lain, And his mangled form soon on the cold earth was laid. The fiends dance around him with horrible yell, Now traveller, I've told thee, why streams forth that light, THE ASTROLOGER'S PREDICTION; OR, THE MANIAC'S FATE! At the commencement of the eighteenth century, the Illuminati, or sect of Astrologers, had excited considerable sensation on the continent. Blending philosophy with enthusiasm, and uniting to a knowledge of every chemical process a profound acquaintance with astronomy, their influence over the superstitious feelings of their countrymen was prodigious. In one or two instances the infatuation was attended with fatal consequences; but in no case was the result so dreadful as in the subsequent narrative: REGINALD, sole heir of the illustrious family of Di Venoni, was remarkable, from his earliest infancy, for a wild, enthusiastic disposition. His father, it His father, it was currently reported, had died of an hereditary insanity; and his friends, when they marked the wild mysterious intelligency of his eye, and the determined energy of his aspect, would often assert that the dreadful malady still lingered in the veins of young Reginald. Whether such was the case or not, certain it is, that his mode of existence was but ill calculated to eradicate any symptoms of insanity. Left at an early age to the guidance of his mother, who since the death of her husband had lived in the strictest seclusion, he experienced but little variety to divert or enliven his attention. The gloomy chateau in which he resided, was situated in Suabia on the borders of the Black Forest. It was a wild isolated mansion, built after the fashion of the day in the gloomiest style of Gothic architecture. At a distance rose the ruins of the once celebrated Castle of Rudstein, of which at present but a mouldering tower remained; and, beyond, the landscape was terminated by the deep shades and impenetrable recesses of the Black Forest. Such was the spot in which the youth of Reginald was immured. But his solitude was soon to be relieved by the arrival of an unexpected residence. On the anniversary of his eighteenth year an old man, apparently worn down with age and infirmity, took up his abode at the ruined tower of Rudstein. He seldom stirred out during the day; and from the singular circumstance of his perpetually burning a lamp in the tower, the villagers naturally enough concluded that he was an emissary of the devil. This report soon acquired considerable notoriety; and having at last reached the ears of Reginald through the medium of a gossiping gardener, his curiosity was awakened, and he resolved to introduce himself into the presence of the sage, and ascertain the motives of his singular seclusion. Impressed with this resolution he adruptly quitted the chateau of his mother, and bent his steps towards the ruined tower, which was situated at a trifling distance from his estate. It was a gloomy night, and the spirit of the storm seemed abroad on the wings of the wind. As the clock from the village church struck twelve, he gained the ruin; and ascending the time-worn stair-case, that tottered at each step he took, reached with some labour the apartment of the philosopher. The door was thrown open, and the old man was seated by the grated casement. His appearance was awfully impressive. A long white beard depended from his chin, and his feeble frame with difficulty sustained a horoscope that was directed to the heavens. Books, written in unknown characters of cabalism, were promiscuously strewed about the floor; and an alabaster vase, engraved with the sign of the Zodiac, and circled by mysterious letters, was stationed on the table. The appearance of the Astrologer himself was equally impressive. He was habited in a suit of black velvet, fancifully embroidered with gold, and belted with a band of silver. His thin locks hung streaming in the wind, and his right hand grasped a wand of ebony. On the entrance of a stranger he rose from his seat, and bent a scrutinizing glance on the anxious countenance of Reginald. "Child of ill-starred fortunes!" he exclaimed in a hollow tone," dost thou come to pry into the secrets of futurity? Avoid me, for thy life, or, what is dearer still, thine eternal happiness! for I say unto thee, Reginald Di Venoni, it is better that thou hadst never been born, than permitted to seal thy ruin in a spot which, in after years, shall be the witness of thy fall." 66 man The countenance of the Astrologer as he uttered these words was singularly terrific, and rung in the ears of Reginald like his death-knell. "I am innocent, father!" he faulteringly replied, "nor will my disposition suffer me to perpetrate the sins you speak of.”"Hah!" resumed the prophet, is indeed innocent, till the express moment of his damnation; but the star of thy destiny already wanes in the heavens, and the fortunes of the proud family of Venoni must decline with it. Look to the west! Yon planet that shines so brightly in the night-sky, is the star of thy nativity. When next thou shalt behold it, shooting downward like a meteor through the hemisphere, think on the words of the prophet and tremble. A deed of blood will be done, and thou art he that shall perpetrate it!" At this instant the moon peeped forth from the dun clouds that lagged slowly in the firmament, and shed a mild radiance upon the earth. To the west, a single bright star was visible. It was the star of Reginald's nativity. He gazed with eyes fixed in the breathless intensity of expectation, and watched it till the passing clouds concealed its radiance from his view. The Astrologer, in the meantime, had resumed his station at the window. He raised the horoscope to heaven. His frame seemed trembling with convulsion. Twice he passed his hand across his brow, and shuddered as he beheld the aspect of the heavens. "But a few days," he said," are yet left me on earth, and then shall my spirit know the eternal repose of the grave. The star of my nativity is dim and pale. It will never be bright again, and the aged one will never know comfort more. Away!" he continued, motioning Reginald from his sight, "disturb not the last moments of a dying man; in three days return, and under the base of this ruin inter the corpse that you will find mouldering within. Away!" Impressed with a strange awe, Reginald could make no reply. He remained as it were entransed; and after the lapse of a few minutes rushed from the tower, and returned in a state of disquietude to the gloomy chateau of his mother. his spirits by travelling. With some difficulty he was induced to quit the home of his infancy. The expostulations of the countess at last prevailed, and he left the chateau Di Venoni for the sunny climes of Italy. Time rolled on; and a constant succession of novelty had produced so beneficial an effect, that scarcely any traces remained of the once mysterious and enthusiastic Venoni. Occasionally his mind was disturbed and gloomy, but a perpetual recurrence of amusement diverted the influence of past recollection, and rendered him at least as tranquil as it was in the power of his nature to permit. He continued for years abroad, during which time he wrote frequently to his mother, who still continued at the chateau Di Venoni, and at last announced his intention of mained but a few months in the city, when, at the gay period of the Carnival, he was introduced, as a foreign nobleman, to the beautiful daughter of the Doge. She was amiable, accomplish to ensure permanent felicity. Reginald was charmed with her beauty, and infatuated with the excellent qualities of her mind. He confessed his attach The three days had now elapsed, and, faithful to his promise, Reginald pursued his route back to the tower. He reached it at night-fall, and trem-settling finally at Venice. He had reblingly entered the fatal apartment. All within was silent, but his steps returned a hollow echo as he passed. The wind sighed around the ruin, and the raven from the roofless turrets had already commenced his death-song. He entered, and endowed with every requisite ed. The Astrologer, as before, was seated by the window, apparently in profound abstraction, and the horoscope was placed by his side. Fearful of disturbing his repose, Reginald ap-ment, and was informed with a blush proached with caution. The old man stirred not. Emboldened by so unexpected a silence, he advanced, and looked at the face of the Astrologer. It was a corpse he gazed on,-the relic of what had once been life. Petrified with horror at the sight, the memory of his former promise escaped him, and he rushed in agony from the apartment. For many days the fever of his mind continued unabated. He frequently became delirious, and in the hour of his lunacy was accustomed to talk of an evil spirit that had visited him in his slumbers. His mother was shocked at such evident symptoms of derangement. She remembered the fate of her husband; and implored Reginald, as he valued her affection, to recruit the agitation of that the affection was mutual. Nothing, therefore, remained but application to the Doge; who was instantly addressed on the subject, and implored to consummate the felicity of the young couple. The request was attended with success, and the happiness of the lovers was complete. On the day fixed for the wedding, a brilliant assemblage of beauty thronged the ducal palace of St. Mark. All Venice crowded to the festival; and, in the presence of the gayest noblemen of Italy, Reginald Count Di Venoni received the hand of Marcelia, the envied daughter of the Doge. In the evening, a masqued festival was given at the palace; but the young couple, anxious to be alone, escaped the scene of re |