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Astaroth had the White, and in three moves he gave checkmate. This devil was truly worthy of being a member of the Chess-Club of Paris !

The sensations of Vincenzio were those of a man awakened from sleep to be conducted to the scaffold. “In ten years we shall meet again,” cried Astaroth to him, as he disappeared like the wind. Vincenzio rolled over the floor of his apartment, uttering the wildest cries of despair.

(TO BE CONCLUDED IN OUR NEXT.)

TADMOR OF THE WILDERNESS.

Beneath the arch of Eastern skies,

On Syria's barren wild,
Where oft the scowling sand storm flies,

And hides the desert child,
How beautiful to catch the sight
or Tadmor's mountain's purple height.

And while the flush of evening glows

Upon the western sky,
Unequalled by the blushing rose

Where Sharon's zephyrs sigh,
How sweet to hear the camel train
Come tinkling home across the plain.

Gigantic loom the desert ships,'

As steadily they come,
While joyfully the Kabyl skips,

Along his houseless home,
And shakes his spear with child-like glee,
And cries," the boundless waste for me!”

The boundless waste, the fruitless sea,

Where scorching rays are cast, -- .
The steed that with the wind can flee,

When danger gathers fast, -
The scanty tunt, the brackish spring,
And night that comes with jewelled wing.

The solitude where foot prints die,

And prowling lions tread,
Where caravans of wealth sweep by,

In watchfulness and dread:
And sink to sleep, and wake to know
That Ishmael is still their foe.

And now behold from towering hill

The howling city stand,
In silver moonlight sleeping still,

So beautiful and grand,
No sadder sight has earth than this,'
'Tis Tadmor of the Wilderness.

Half buried in the flowerless sand,

And whirled by the eddying blast,
Behold her marble columns stand,

Huge relics of the past ;
And o'er her gates of solid stone
The sculptured eagles front the sun.

Palmyra! thou wert great indeed,

When through thy portals passed The Persian on his weary steed,

And found a rest at last, From Samiel's breath, and war’s alarms, Beneath thy tall and waving palms.

Zenobia, mistress of the East,

In glory rested here, 'Neath yonder porch she held her feast,

While Satraps bowed in fear ;
And oft the silver strain came up,
While Bacchus filled her golden cup.

And here"she oped her portals wide,

And called the wise around, And hither in her days of pride

The sage a refuge found; And Arab chief and Rabbin hung On gray-haired wisdom's silver tongue.

When Rome's fierce thousands hither came

O'er yonder sands she fled,
And here returned in grief and shame,

A sovereign captive led;
While loud her people's wail arose
Above the shouts of conquering foes.

And when the gleaming cohorts flung

Their banners o'er thy head, -
And cymbals clashed and clarions rung,

Before Aurelian's tread,
Then died thy race, and sank thy towers,
And desert lightnings seared thy flowers.

Emesa! when thy bowers of green

Received the Roman horde,
The legions called for Tadmor's queen,

And bared the glittering sword;
And she to shun that cruel death.
With bloody roses soiled her wreath.

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Yes, he, Athena's wisest one,

By royalty betrayed,
Bowed down beneath the Syrian sun,

And felt the tyrant's blade ;
And now upon the plain he sleeps,
While science bending o'er him weeps.
Zenobia! when thy name shall die,

And Tadmor sink in gloom,
When fierce Aurelian's dust shall lie
* Forgotten in the tomb,
Still history's pen shall trace his fame,
And glory gild Longinus' name.
In ancient times thy walls were laid

By Israel's wisest King,
And hither came the sons of trade

Their richest gifts to bring;
With Nineveh and Babylon
Thy regal state thou didst put on.
On the bleak hill now stand thy tombs,

As silent as thy towers,
And there the owl nis gray wing plumes,

And there the jackall cowers ;

And west wind's sigh, aud Simoom's wail,
Through thy tall pillars tell thy tale.

Sleep on, thou Oriental Queen,

The slumber of the dead,
No palm majestic waves its green

Above thy marble head;
Amid thy courts the cricket sings,
And startled echo wildly rings.
The Arab saunters down thy aisles,

Or careless turns away,
The earthquake rocks thy giant piles,

And lightnings round thee play,
But morning's dawn and evening's close,
Awaken not thy dread repose.

J. E. D.

EARLY AMERICAN TRAVELS.

FATHER HENNEPIN,

Father HENNEPIN is one of the earliest travellers in our “Great West” whose accounts of their adventures have come down to us. In his dedication of his travels to William III., of England, he states that “having lived eleven years in the Northern America, I have had an opportunity to penetrate further into that unknown continent than any before me, wherein I have discovered new countries which may be justly called the delights of the new world. They are larger than Europe, watered with an infinite number of fine rivers, the course of one of which is above eight hundred leagues long, stocked with all kinds of harmless beasts, and other things necessary for the conveniency of life, and blessed with so mild a temperature of the air, that nothing is there wanting to lay the foundation of one of the nightiest empires in the world."

* A New Discovery of a vast country in America, extending above four thousand miles, between New France and Mexico, with a description of the great lakes, rivers plants, and animals; also the manners, customs and languages of the several native Indians; and the advantage of commerce with those different nations. With a continuation giving an account of the attempts of the Sieur La Salle upon the mines of St. Barbe, to the taking of Quebec by the English; with the advantage of a shorter cut to China and Japan. Both parts illustrated with maps and figures, and dedi. cated to His Majesty King William. By L. Hennepin, now resident in Holland. To which is added, several new discoveries in North America, not published in the French edition. London. Printed for M. Bentley, J. Tonson, H. Bonwick, T. Goodwin, and S. Manship. 1798.

A native of Flanders, "a strong inclination to retire from the world, and regulate his life by the rules of pure and severe virtue,” induced him to become a member of the mendicant order of St. Francis. The voyages and travels of the brethren of this order which he now read, excited in him a strong desire to travel, which was gratified in a degree by a visit that he paid to Italy. On his return, the Bishop of Ypres appointed him preacher to a convent in Hainault, but a year afterwards he was gratified by being sent to mendicate at Calais. Returning by way of Dunkirk, he derived great pleasure from listening to the stories of the sailors at that port. He says: “I used often to skulk behind the doors of victualling houses, while the seamen were giving account of their adventures. The smoke of tobacco was disagreeable to me, and created pains in my stomach while I was thus intent upon giving ear to their relations, yet, nevertheless, I was very attentive to the accounts they gave of their adventures by sea, the perils they had gone through, and all the accidents which befel them in their long voyages. This occupation was so agreeable and engaging, that I have spent whole days and nights in it without eating.". And he adds, that he thus fortified himself more and more in his ancient resolution.'

Passing over his residence in Meastrich, his attendance upon the wounded in the battle of Seneffe (A. D. 1674) and his other services to the army, we come to the period when his warmest wishes were gratified by his receiving orders to repair to Rochelle, and accompany Francis de Laval, then Bishop of Petrée, in partibus infidelium, to Canada. During the voyage out they had several engagements with the fleets of Turkey, Algiers, and Tunis, witnessed "with incredible delight” a fight off Cape Breton, between the fish called espadons, and their natural enemies the whales, and took vast quantities of fish off Newfoundland, meeting great numbers of vessels coming there to fish. They had divine service daily in fine weather, and after evening prayers they sung the Itinerary of the clergy in French. “Thus (says our worthy father) we sweetly spent our time aboard till at length we arrived at Quebec, the capi. tal city of Canada." He thus derives the name of this country: “the Spaniards were the first who discovered Canada ; but at theie first arrival having found nothing considerable in it, they abandoned the country, and called it Il Capo di Nada, that is, the Cape of Nothing. Hence, by corruption, sprung the word Canada.”

His fellow voyager, Laval, being made Bishop of Quebec, appointed our author preacher in Advent and Lent to the Cloister of St. Augustin in the Hospital of Quebec, and he spent four years in

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