seeing different countries, I have always resided in the same city; with the highest expectation of connubial felicity, I have lived unmarried`; and with an unalterable resolution of contemplative retirement, I am going to die within the walls of Bagdat." IX. THE NEEDLE. 1. THE gay belles of fashion may boast of excelling 2. If Love have a potent, a magical token", 3 Be wise, then, ye maidens, nor seek admiration, And plying the needle with exquisite art: CHARLES DICKENS of England, is one of the most popular writers of the day, and is admired as a graphic delineator of human character. He has published numerous interesting works, and is, at present, conductor of the periodical "Household Words." 1. SHE was dead. No sleep so beautiful and calm, so free from trace of pain', so fair to look upon. She seemed a creature fresh from the hand of God, and waiting for the breath of life; not one who had lived', and suffered death. Her couch was dressed with here and there some winter berries and green leaves, gathered in a spot she had been used to favor. "When I die, put near me something that has loved the light, and had the sky above it always." Those were her words. 2. She was dead. Dear, gentle, patient, noble Nell was dead. Her little bird, a poor slight thing the pressure of a finger would have crushed, was stirring nimbly in its cage, and the strong heart of its child-mistress was mute and motionless forever! Where were the traces of her early cares, her sufferings, and fatigues? All gone. Sorrow was dead, indeed, in her; but peace and perfect happiness were born, imaged, in her tranquil beauty and profound repose. 3. And still her former self lay there, unaltered in this change. Yes! the old fireside had smiled upon that same sweet face; it had passed, like a dream", through the haunts of misery and care`; at the door of the poor schoolmaster on the summer evening, before the furnace-fire upon the cold wet night, at the still bedside of the dying boy', there had been the same mild and lovely look. So shall we know the angels, in their majesty, after death. 4. The old man held one languid arm in his, and the small tight hand folued to his breast for warmth. It was the hand she had stretched out to him with her last smile; the hand that had led him on through all their wanderings. Ever and anon he pressed it to his lips; then hugged it to his breast again, murmuring that it was warmer now, and, as he said it, he looked in agony to those who stood around, as if imploring them to help her. 5. She was dead, and past all help, or need of help. The ancient rooms she had seemed to fill with life, even while her own was waning fast, the garden she had tended, the eyes she had gladdened ́, the noiseless haunts of many a thoughtless hour, the paths she had trodden, as it were, but yesterday, could know her no more`. 6. "It is not," said the schoolmaster, as he bent down to kiss her on the check, and gave his tears free vent, "it is not in this world that Heaven's justice ends. Think what it is, compared with the world to which her young spirit has winged its early flight, and say, if one deliberate wish, expressed in solemn tones above this bed, could call her back to life, which of us would utter it?" 7. She had been dead two days. They were all about her at the time, knowing that the end was drawing on. She died soon after daybreak. They had read and talked to her in the earlier portion of the night; but, as the hours crept on, she sank to sleep. They could tell by what she faintly uttered in her dreams, that they were of her journeyings with the old man; they were of no painful scenes, but of those who had helped them, and used them kindly; for she often said "God bless you!" with great fervor. 8. Waking, she never wandered in her mind but once, and that was at beautiful music, which, she said, was in the air. God knows. It may have been. Opening her eyes, at last, from a very quiet sleep, she begged that they would kiss her once again. That done, she turned to the old man, with a lovely smile upon her face, such, they said, as they had never seen, and could never forget, and clung, with both her arms, about his neck. She had never murmured or complained; but, with a quiet mind, and manner quite unaltered, save that she every day became more earnest and more grateful to them, faded like the light upon the summer's evening. 9. The child who had been her little friend, came there, almost as soon as it was day, with an offering of dried flowers, which he begged them to lay upon her breast. He told them of his dream again, and that it was of her being restored to them, just as she used to be. He begged hard to see her: saying, that he would be very quiet, and that they need not fear his being alarmed, for he had sat alone by his younger brother all day long when he was dead, and he had felt glad to be so near him. They let him have his wish; and, indeed, he kept his word, and was, in his childish way, a lesson to them all. 10. Up to that time, the old man had not spoken once, except to her, or stirred from the bedside. But, when he saw her little favorite, he was moved as they had not seen him yet, and made as though he would have him come nearer. Then, pointing to the bed, he burst into tears for the first time, and they who stood by, knowing that the sight of this child had done him good, left them alone together. 11. Soothing him with his artless talk of her, the child persuaded him to take some rest, to walk abroad, to do almost as he desired him. And, when the day came, on which they must remove her, in her earthly shape, from earthly eyes forever, he led him away, that he might not know when she was taken from him. They were to gather fresh leaves and berries for her bed. 12. And now the bell, the bell she had so often heard by night and day, and listened to with solemn pleasure, almost as a living voice, rung its remorseless toll for her, so young, so beautiful, so good. Decrepit age, and vigorous life, and blooming youth, and helpless infancy, on crutches, in the pride of health and strength, in the full blush of promise, in the mere dawn of life, gathered round her. Old men were there, whose eyes were dim and senses failing, grandmothers, who might have died ten years ago, and still been old, the deaf, the blind, the lame, the palsied, the living dead, in many shapes and forms, to see the closing of that early grave. 13. Along the crowded path they bore her now, pure as the newly fallen snow that covered it, whose day on earth had been as fleeting. Under that porch where she had sat, when Heaven, in its mercy, brought her to that peaceful spot, she passed again, and the old church received her in its quiet shade. STALACTITES; (pro. sta-lac--tites), lime in the shape of icicles, formed by drippings, and hanging from the roof. Fiji; (pro. Fee-jee), a cluster of islands in the South Pacific.. 1. THERE is a cavern in the island of Hoonga, one of the Tonga islands, in the South Pacific Ocean, which can only be entered by diving into the sea, and which has no other light, than that which is reflected from the bottom of the water. A young chief discovered it accidentally, while diving after a turtle', and the use which he made of his discovery, will probably be sung in more than one European language, so beautifully is it adapted for a tale in verse. 2. There was a tyrannical governor at Hoonga, against whom one of the chiefs formed a plan of insurrection. It was betrayed, and the chief, with all his family and kin, was ordered to be destroyed. He had a beautiful daughter, betrothed to a chief of high rank, and she also was included in the sentence. The youth who had found the cavern, and had kept the secret to himself, loved this damsel. He told her the danger in time, and persuaded her to trust to him. They got into a canoe; the place of her retreat was described to her on the way to it, these women swim like mermaids`, -she dived after him ́, and rose in the cavern`. In the widest part it is about fifty feet`; its medium hight being about the same, and it is hung with stalactites. 3. Here, he brought her the choicest food, the finest clothing, mats for her bed, and sandal oil to perfume herself with. Here, he visited her as often as was consistent with prudence, and here, as may be imagined, this Tonga Leander wooed and won the maid, whom, to make the inter est complete, he had long loved in secret, when he had no hope. Meantime he prepared, with all his dependents, male and female, to emigrate in secret to the Fiji islands. 4. The intention was so well concealed, that they embarked in safety`, and his people asked him, at the point of their departure, if he would not take with him a Tonga wife; and, accordingly, to their great astonishment, having steered close to the rock, he desired them to wait while he |