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associate, or perchance to make his friend, from a class which the parlance of the world would call inferior to his own, though the high-mindedness of inherent honor might withhold from such friend, under such circumstances, no confidence and no familiarity, still upon a separation, when the one, as in the instance of our tale, may be cut off by death or would remingle unnoticed with his fellows, and the other returns to his lordly seat, becomes treated with habitual deference, and resumes the systematic opinions of his set,-it is hardly in human nature, but that ties so formed will be weakened, or at all events, removed from that perfect equality in which alone such connections can exist. It was thus that if ever Lascelles, whose heart was naturally generous, but whose habits were formed according to all the feelings and customs of his caste, in the influence of the strong and attached friendship which he had formed in the early romance of situation, warmed to the noble qualities of the hapless Selby, and formed personal wishes, involving his beautiful and unprotected, perhaps unprovided sisterand if, when at times gazing upon her exquisite likeness in his possession, he felt his soul soften to touching thoughts, or expand with generous projects-the instant influence of habit would neutralize the feeling, and acquired lessons of duty to station and connexions would make him instantly shrink within the narrow circle of his selfish privileges; and then the portrait would be laid aside, and the solemn and affecting duty he had self-incurred would be, not forgotten, but again and indefinitely postponed. Was the disposition of Lascelles to blame, or his rank? Both had their share. The prejudices of the one had modified the good qualities of the other and produced that apathy of character, which under some circumstances, and without really bad intentions, has all the effect of crime. Left to his own unassisted feelings, without the extrinsic allurements of his every-day life to distract, or corrupt them-they would all have become, if not personally moved, at least intensely interested, in the redemption of that solemn vow pronounced to the dying, and now doubly incumbent on him as a pledge to the dead.
Circumstances soon proved that this was essentially the case. His regiment was ordered to Ireland; and now that duty opened the path to conscience, Lascelles felt his mind relieved from a pressure which had long given him almost insupportable uneasiness. He hastened to his quarters, and endeavoured by every means in his power to discover the family he was in search of. But removal to the country where they resided, did not facilitate his success; and after several ineffectual trials, judging they had either left the country, or retired to some obscure situation, he gave up the attempt in despair; and after some time, he ceased altogether to think of his friend or his request, save as an affecting incident in his military recollection.
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
THE FRANCONIA MOUNTAIN NOTCH.
The blackening hills close round-the beetling cliff
Still on, the expanding chasm deepens down, Into a vast abyss which circling mountains crown.
The summer air is cooler, fresher, here
The breeze is hushed, and all is calm and still-
Thou, reader of these lines, who dost inherit
Of Light and Beauty-who from living things
Which from converse with secret Nature springs,
High hills, clear streams, blue lakes, and everlasting wood!
And as thou musest 'mid these mountains wild,
Within thy breast-these scenes will dissipate,
An impress from the grand and mighty scenes around.
Here, doth not wake that thrill of awe-that feeling
The mind and sense of him whose foot is scaling
The near WHITE MOUNTAIN NOTCH's giant towers;
Blue ponds and streams are glancing, fringed with flowers,-
IS LA FAYETTE-the other, matchless WASHINGTON! ❤
Great names! presiding spirits of each scene,
Which here their mountain namesakes overlook-
Of earth's enduring records, where will look
Where a tall post beside the road displays
Its lettered arm, pointing the traveller's eye,
Through the small opening 'mid the green birch trees,
And full and plain those features are displayed,
The compass of his plastic art to try.
From the curved neck up to the shaggy hair
That shoots in pine trees from the head on high,
To cheat the expecting eye with fancied forms of air!
Most wondrous vision! the broad earth hath not
More fit to stir the poet's phantasy
*The names of the two highest peaks, one of the Franconia, the other of the White Hills. The two groups are about twenty miles distant from each other
Gray OLD MAN OF THE MOUNTAIN-awfully,
And curious travellers have descried the trace
In that most grave and philosophic face-
Sage Franklin's countenance, thou indeed must be
From all that thou hast had a chance to see,
Since Earth began-here thou, too, oft hast played With lightnings, glancing frequent round thy rugged head.
Thou sawest the tawny INDIAN'S light canoe
In thee the simple-minded Indian saw
And viewed with deep and reverential awe
His birchen bark, nor sought the wild-deer chase,
Oh! that some bard would rise-true heir of glory,
To gather up each old romantic story
That lingers round these scenes in memory,
Some western SCOTT, within whose bosom thrills
That fire which burneth to eternity,
To pour his spirit o'er these mighty hills
And make them classic ground, thrice hallowed by his spells!
But backward turn-the wondrous shape hath gone-
Nought but the ragged mountain side is seen,—
And trace yon streamlet down the expanding gorge,
Gladdening fair meadows as it onward goes, Where, 'mid the trees, rich towns their heav'nward spires dis
And further down, from GARNSEY'S lone abode,
The rocks abrupt wall in the long, high room,
Echoing the wild stream's roar, and dark with vapory gloom.
But long, too long, I've dwelt as in a dream,
Mine has essayed, though all unworthily.
Would their green woods might be my spirit's home!
Oft o'er the stormy waste of memory
Shall I look back, where'er I chance to roam
LANCASTER, N. H.