other cases but my own, I am decidedly of your opinion, that all such practices are impostures, and worthy of punishment. But in my case, the matter is different. I see the hour of my death at this moment before

me."

And the poor gentleman's eyes rolled fearfully; nothing but the white portion of the eye-balls being visible, as if the eyes were really straining to trace those characters of fire written within on his brain, to which he had alluded. But such paroxysms were of rare occurrence, and Mr. Osborn's equanimity was seldom shaken by any outward demonstration of nervousness; he remained perfectly impervious to our friendly admonitions and remonstrances, and as he affirmed—“an obstinate and wretched man.” What a lesson his sad story afforded, of the pernicious influence which superstition may exercise on the human mind; and the `impiousness and folly of seeking to raise the veil, so mercifully drawn over futurity, by the Hand of Mercy.

We did not continue to dwell in the village of Aldertrees; and on our removal to a distant province, lost sight of the doctor's assistant for some years; but a few months since, looking over the list of deaths in a daily paper, we observed the notification of Mr. Osborn's demise, after a short illness, at the house of his maiden sisters. GOD grant he was fully prepared at the last for that awful change which he had for so long a period contemplated with pain.

433

A CHAPLET OF LEGENDS.

It was merry Christmas time. A happy family party

The joyous songs had played, the dance was supper in the servants'

Little

sat round the blazing hearth. been sung, the cheerful music over, the mummers dismissed to hall, and young and old gathered about the fire-side, piled high with fresh cones and split logs. heeded they the cold wreaths of snow that lay glistening over the white lawns, on the sweeping tresses of the cedar, and the frosted boughs of shrub and tree. The warm curtains were drawn across the tall low windows, and the glow of the blazing fire and the light of candles were but the types of the merriment and hospitality that gladdened the old country house at home, and many a cottage in the little hamlet that clustered round it.

It was the hour for the story and tale. "Come, brother," said a laughing-eyed girl, to one who had been watching the group; "come, you have laughed at the game, and joined in the music for the dancer; your turn 18 come. A story, you grave book-worm; some quaint old black-letter tale, which you must have lighted on in the dusty museum, or some of those dull books which make up your delight."

"Well, sweet little lady," answered the Clergyman, "your bidding shall be law, and welcome."

The chairs were drawn in closer; the brands were stirred in the ruddy grate, and to his gentle audience the young man began his tale.

"You have all heard of Schiller: he shall be our master, and I his interpreter.

"Some centuries back, on the sea-shore of Sicily, Knight and Squire, Noble and Prelate, stood around their King. Before them lay the ocean, stretching away for miles, studded with the sails of the fisher's boat, the gallant ship, and richly-laden galleys, bringing to western Europe the precious merchandize of the East; beneath, from the heights where they were assembled, were seen the fields and hills so famous in Grecian legends: the

flowery fields of Enna, the bright line of towers round Syracuse, the snowy cloud-capt crest of Etna, and the plain which Arethusa prints with her silver line, before she goes down to her mystic pathway in the sea. Close to the shore, swept in eddies the dreaded Charybdis, the fear of Sicilian mariners. The King was watching its angry waters from the rugged cliff; and at length into the very midst of the mad circle of the maelstrom, hurled a golden cup, rich with carving, and bossed with priceless jewellery.

"Where is the knight or the squire,' cried he, 'who will dive down into the depth, and bring back that goblet? he shall have it for his royal guerdon.'

"Thrice the monarch spoke: but not a sound answered from the throng. If any had the ambition of winning the perilous prize, the sight of those raging dismal surges froze the heart on the instant. From out of the furthest border of the crowd approached a young man; the wondering squires gave way as he passed. Slowly he unbuckled his girdle, and unclasped the brooch of his mantle. He looked down with a calm, steady eye on the roaring swell, the bubbling hissing of the cauldron that seethed below, the thunder of the breakers, the scattered spray and foam that were hurled up on high as flood mounted over flood, and was swallowed down in the abyss. As if a pathway was cleft through the parted waves, the whirlpool for a moment showed a sudden lull, and an opening crater yawned among the billows. The young man breathed one prayer, the next minute he had taken his spring: a wild shriek from the crowd-a form seen struggling and whirled dizzily in the fierce watersand then the giant jaws closed above their victim.

"All was silence and suspense: not for a crown would the bravest dare hazard the dive into the secrets of that sea. The stoutest bark in the navies of earth would scarce survive the twinkling of an eye the grasp of that fearful, fathomless vortex. Still it sweeps round and round in its terrible wrath, never ceasing in its giddy, rushing haste.

"But see a hand and arm are battling with its might, and a left hand holds a golden cup! Shaking off the

deathy dews of the deep, breathing long and full, gazing up at the blessed sun's light again, the youth kneels at the foot of the King; the crowds shout for joy, hailing the brave rescued boy, recovered from the awful grave, lost and found again, alive from the doom. The King's daughter leaves her maidens, and fills the goblet with the red wine of Messina.

"The youth drains the cup, and bids, 'Long life to the King! I have seen the voiceless horror, and I have raised the veil of the dread night: may mortal never tempt that sight again. Like the lightning in its brightness, like the torrent in its strength, like the swift wings of the mountain eagle, it bore me down, the wild Charybdis in its play. I called on my GOD from the depth; my breath gasped; my eyes were dimming; my limbs were unstrung and loosed; and He showed me a steep crag. I clung with the grasp of the drowning, and on the coral spikes lay fixed the cup of gold. Far, far below was the dark profound, peopled with its dread inhabitants; through the gloom I knew the forms of the weird seasnake, fathoms long, and writhing serpent, and the coiled dragons. I shrank in horror; for there were gathered close, misshapen, huge, and unlike all that eye hath seen, hideous monsters and crawling things, and vast creatures, tusked and yawning; and they looked upon me till, far far from help of man, alone, the only one that wore humanity in all those fearful companies, and fully in the power of those out-stretched hundred limbs of the nameless fish that swooped towards its prey; with my tongue clinging to my mouth-roof, my heart like ice, I sprang upward,-and, O King, I am here!'

"Brave youth,' answered the marvelling prince, 'thou hast won thy prize; dive into the lower depth that lay beneath, and this gemmed ring is thine.'

"Nay, father,' cried his trembling daughter, 'enough of this cruel sport; bid him not again attempt the mercy of that pitiless deep. Is there no knight here that will essay the feat? no squire that would wear the golden spur ?'

"Once more the goblet fell into the roaring waves, and sank down in the yawning gulf. Restore it, Sir diver,'

said the King: thou shalt sit next me in the councilhall, and this fair child shall be thy bride.'

"The maiden fainted at her father's feet. Hope and joy, the prize and the promise have done their work. One look on the drooping form, that lay there motionless, and the diver was in the sea, doing battle for the life. The deep thunders rolled along the far stormy skies; the wild waves dash in fury on the steep; fond eyes look long and sad; the rolling of the tempest died away; the sea heaved soft and gentle: but never shall mortal gaze on the face of the bold boy, till the ocean in the Last Day shall render up its dead."

"Oh, brother, how cruel, how unjust an end," whispered a little voice in the ear of the speaker; and tearful eyes met his, as he turned to kiss her, and said, “Dear sister, man must not tempt too far the mercy of his GOD. You shall hear another tale that will satisfy your disappointment.

The

"Near one of the great forests in Alsatia, stood the grim fortress of the Count Savern, a rash, impetuous noble, yet not without generosity; but of this you shall judge. His lady, gentle, affectionate, and kind, had a young foot-page, who bore the name of Fridolin. Count's huntsman, Robert, a bold, bad man, envied the lad's good fortune in winning her esteem and trust; and, as they rode back together from the chase, poured into his master's ear a dark lie with consummate craft. The enraged noble turned his horse's head, and sought alone the deep recesses of the woods. Moody, and with a brow flushed with scorn and rage, he reined up before a forge, secluded in the dark forest. The furnace glowed; the molten metal flowed in hissing streams of liquid fire; the dusky smoke-black smiths plied the heaving, snorting bellows, and smote with vast hammers the hot iron, suppling it with heavy blows, that echoed through the leafy wastes, above the clamour of the whirling mill-wheel without.

"The Count beckoned to two of the swarthy familiars of the forge. 'Look ye, my men,' said he, thrust the first who comes to you from me, with these words, ‘Have you done my lord's bidding?' into yonder fire, till he is ashes, that he may meet my eyes no more.'