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النشر الإلكتروني

But where's the proof of that?--Who will believe

me ?

The world is made up of one great disguise-
One universal mask ;-each strives to lay
His neighbour's heart bare, and to hide his own.
Would I could pluck mine out upon my hand,
And reach it to them for their scrutiny!
I cannot ; and so there's an end to hope.
Berthier is great, and rich, and powerful ;
And I-what am I ?--Am I not a man ?
Oh Heaven, dispel these wild imaginings !

A Reminiscence,

P.-When late I spared your life, consider not
It was from some fleet feeling of forbearance ;
It had a deeper source.

M.Whence was it then ?
P.-Hear me and judge. When you were but a

It happened on a day-a summer's day-
As bright and joyous as the youthful hearts
That played in the wild glen of Tenterville,
Who leaped and clomb among the hanging boughs
Of its wild oaks --it lappened thou didst reach
A point much higher than the rest. Thy pride
At such a feat was shown in boyish shouts :
And as thy young companions gathered round,
Ambition filled thy bosom to perform
A deed more daring. On an outstretched branch

You took your seat; and while you gently swung
Secure upon your ærial couch, it creaked
And snapped in two, Awhile you dangling hung ,
Clinging with terrified tenacity
To the frail hold on which your life depended.

M.-'Tis true, but then how

P. Let me end the tale.
A comrade more intrepid than the rest
Stepped underneath, desiring you to drop
Fearless and steadily upon your

He knew the danger, and to break its force
He caught you in the fall. You scarce were hurt,
But your preserver's arm was gashed and broken ;
And though no worse accrued from your mishap,
It left a token that in after years
Was oft in youthful glee exhibited,
When aught would mar your mirth or cool your

friendship M.--How heard you this?

P.-You do not know me yet! Look in my face! Here is the arm that caught you In that headlong career. Upon this breast, Breathless and terror-stricken, you reclined. Here is the gash that bled for you!

M.You are Marc

P.--Hush thee! Walls have ears, they say, And I would not that name were uttered now.

"Tis not that I, by word or deed, have ever Stamped it with infamy; or that I care The wide world knew it; but there's one, Jean

Merriot, And rather would I sink into the grave, An unknown stranger in my native land, Without one pitying friend to close my eyes, Than she should hear that name to know 'twas mine, And I thus charged with guilt.

M.-Oh Marc ! I am A guilty wretch ; would I had known this sooner!

P-"Tis soon enough, if you mean well,--if ill, It is too late.

The Triumph of Buty,

M.--Advise me, Marc. What can I do to save

you ?

P.-Be honest, if you would be just or grateful. Tell the plain truth.--cling to it fearlessly, It never get betrayed its votary.

M.-The guillotine is gaping for its victim. I can't be honest,-'tis beyond my power ; Men will not let me now.

P.--You are mistaken !
Banish the demon from your heart at once !

Crush him with one good deed! Be penitent!
The world will yet receive you:

M.-Oh, they would not, I know the world too well.

P.-'Tis false,-a sophism ; 'tis the fiend that

tempts thee! Up, up, and be a man; now is the time : Expel him ; spurn his promptings !

M.--Tell me how.

Þ: -Resolve this hour to be an honest man Nuver sin more. Abandon your bud life, And eleare to truth.

N.Mare, Maro, I'll do wlinlever you desire me:

P.-Nay; do not anything from sueh a motive. Do what is right, because 'tis so ; and speak The naked truth, and all may yet go well.

M.--I will, by Heav'n, tho' I should die for it. Give me your hand,—I feel much lighter now. I swear

P.-Swear not; consult your better feelings.
You have o'ercome the tempter; so depart.
Go, go; I will not listen now ; I'll trust you !

M.-May all the saints defend youI obey.

'Tis past; the victory is won ; and now
Hope brightens in the East,-a cloudy morn
Opens before a glorious day. Farewell
Dark visions of despair, that bowed my soul
Down to the earth. Perhaps I count too fast!
He may be tempted yet. No, no ; I'll trust him.
Tho' difficult the passage to retrace,
When we have once given up ourselves to vice,
If we but wrestle with our evil nature,
And can o'ercome its impulses, we may
With return to virtue's milder path.-
Yes, Merriot; I will trust thee.

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