right; a miserable-looking old man was sitting at a table in the corner, leaning on it with his elbows, and having two wax candles before him. He rose, and regarding me with sad, yet kindly expression, he said, in a low, friendly voice:

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Although eternal grief reigns in these walls, every traveller asking for hospitality finds here a peaceful home. Stranger, I know thee not, but thou art a man; in my decaying heart love of my fellow-creatures is still fresh and active: my house, my arms are open to thee.'

He embraced me and bade me sit down. He tried to cheer up his gloomy appearance, which resembled a clear but cold autumnal day, reminding one more of dreary winter than merry summer: he attempted to be social, and evidently desired to awaken in me feelings of confidence and friendship; but the traces of deep sorrow imprinted on his face would not vanish for a moment.

'Young man,' said he, you must acquaint me with the occurrences in a world which I have left but not forgotten. I have long been living alone; I have long heard nothing of the fate of men. Tell me, does love still reign on earth? Do the nations prosper which you have visited?'

Mankind,' I answered, is increasing fast, yet human blood still flows; the tears of the unhappy still flow; virtue is highly valued, though people quarrel concerning its nature.' When he heard that Í was a Russian, he said:

At a

We are descendants of the same nation with you. The original inhabitants of the islands Rugen and Bornholm were Slavonians. But the light of Christianity has earlier been shed on you than on us. time when magnificent temples dedicated to one GOD ascended toward heaven, with you, we were still in the darkness of idolatry, offering bloody sacrifices to unfeeling idols. You were already glorifying the Creator of the world in solemn hymns, when we were still adoring the idols of mythology in rude songs.'

The old man conversed with me on the history of the northern powers, and on the occurrences of ancient and modern history: he talked in a manner to fill me with admiration of his good sense, his knowledge, and even his eloquence. Half an hour afterward he rose and bade me good night. A servant in black took one of the candles from the table, and led me through many narrow passages into a good-sized room, which was hung with ancient weapons, swords, lances, and complete suits of armor. In a corner of the room stood a bed with a canopy of rich curtains. I intended to put several questions to the servant, but he did not wait for them, and violently closing the iron door, and making it resound horribly through the deserted apartments, he disappeared; a deep silence succeeded. I laid me down and admired the old weapons, which were dimly lighted by the moon through a small window. I made some reflections concerning my host, and his words to me, 'Here reigns everlasting sorrow.' I recurred to the past; finally the unhappy stranger of Gravesend occurred to me. I fell asleep. But my rest was uneasy. I dreamed that all the armory on the wall was changed into knights; that these knights approached me with drawn swords, and addressed me, with menacing looks, thus:

'Unfortunate man! how didst thou dare to land on our island? Does not the most daring seaman grow pale at the sight of our granite-rocks? How didst thou presume to set foot on the dreadful sanctuary of our castle? Do not strangers flee from its awful towers? Thou fool-hardy, audacious man! die for this pernicious curiosity!' The swords already clashed over me; hundreds of strokes fell on my chest ; but suddenly all vanished. I awoke and fell asleep again.

A new dream tormented my soul. It seemed to me as if I heard a horrid noise about the castle; the iron doors seemed to be slamming to and fro, the windows and floors trembled, and a shocking winged monster was hurrying toward my bed, howling and screeching. The dream passed, but I could not close my eyes again. Feeling the want of fresh air, I approached the window, discovered close by a small door, opened it, descended a winding stair-case, and found myself in the garden. The night was clear, the light of a full moon silvered the deep green foliage of old oaks and elms, which formed a long and dense avenue. The noise of the sea mingled with the rustling of the leaves, among which the wind played. In the distance, glistened the white rocks which surround the island. Between them and the castle was a large forest on one side, a plain with small scattered groves, on the other.

My heart still beat quickly, in consequence of the horrid dreams I had had, and my blood was in great commotion. I stepped into the avenue, in the shade of the rustling oaks, and lost myself with a kind of shudder in their darkness. The thought of the Druids again recurred to my mind, and I imagined that I was approaching the sanctuary which contained all the horrors and mysteries of their religious services. The avenue brought me to some rosemary-bushes, behind which rose a sandhillock. I was just going to ascend it, in order to gain a view of the sea, illuminated by the full moon, when I noticed an aperture in the hill; small, but just large enough to let a man pass. My unconquerable curiosity led me into this cavern, which seemed more the work of man than of nature. I felt a great cold and dampness; I resolved however to proceed; and having advanced about ten paces, I discovered a few steps leading down to an iron door, which was not quite closed. Almost involuntarily I opened it: behind an iron grate, a lamp fastened to the ceiling was hanging, and on a straw bed I discovered a pale young lady, dressed in mourning. She was asleep. Black tresses, into which some straw had interwoven itself, covered her beautiful chest, which hardly heaved; one arm, white, but emaciated, rested on the ground, the other supported the head. Her features betrayed intense grief. Friends! who is not affected by the sight of misery? But the sight of a young girl, the weakest and loveliest of all earthly beings, pining in a subterranean cavern, would move even a heart of stone. I looked at her pitifully, and thought to myself: What barbarian has deprived thee of day-light? Is it for any crime? But thy lovely face and quiet rest convince me of thy innocence.'

She woke that moment, looked toward the grate, and saw me. She seemed alarmed; rose, approached, looked down, as if to collect her thoughts, and again looked at me as if going to speak, but remained mute. 'If a sympathizing stranger,' said I, whom Providence has led into

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this castle and this cavern, can ease thy lot; if his sincere sympathy deserves thy confidence, demand his assistance.'

She looked steadily at me, with a mixture of surprise, curiosity, indecision and doubt. Finally, after a hard struggle with herself, which seemed to shake her whole frame like an electric stroke, she replied:

'Stranger, whoever thou art, whatever chance may have brought thee this way, I cannot ask any thing of thee but pity. It is not in thy power to alter my lot. I fondle the hand that corrects me.'

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Is thy heart innocent?' I said: 'it certainly cannot deserve so hard a punishment.'

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'My heart,' replied she, may have failed. GOD will forgive me my weakness. I believe the end of my life is near. Leave me, stranger.' She then approached the grate, looked kindly at me, and repeated softly, 'For God's sake, leave me.'

'If he himself has sent you, he whose awful curse constantly vibrates in my ears, tell him I suffer day and night; that grief wastes away my heart; that tears no longer soothe it. Tell him that I submit to my imprisonment without complaint or reproach; that I shall die as his affectionate and unhappy...

She suddenly stopped, lost herself in deep thought, left the grate, knelt down, covering her face with both hands, and looking up to me again, said, with soft timidity:

You know my history, perhaps; but if you do not, ask me no questions. Adieu! Farewell, stranger!'

I intended leaving her, after having said a few words, which came from the bottom of my heart, but our eyes still met, and she seemed to wish to ask me some questions on a subject dear to her. I tarried, but her words died on her lips with a deep sigh. We parted.

On leaving the cavern, I did not close the iron door, that the fresh air might penetrate beyond the grate, and thus benefit the unhappy girl. The morning red illuminated the sky; the birds awoke; a gentle zephyr shook the dew-drops from the leaves. My GOD!' thought I, 'how dreadful to be thus cut off from society and nature! Beautiful roses are blooming around me, and fill the air with their fragrance; green carpets are spread like soft velvet under our feet; the birds sing merrily for the cheerful, and sadly for the sad, but pleasingly to all, and all enjoying life themselves: one aching heart may endeavor to console another, and to assist it in bearing the trials of life; but this poor prisoner is debarred all this comfort; the morning dew does not shed its tears on her languishing heart; the air does not invigorate her frame; the rays of the sun do not penetrate into her dark abode. O! CREATOR! why hast thou endowed man with the destructive power to make himself and others miserable!'

My strength gave way; my eyes closed. I slept several hours under the branches of a venerable oak. The door was open; the stranger has been in the cavern!' I heard somebody say, on waking, and discovered my venerable host sitting thoughtfully on a bench a few paces distant from me; beside him stood the man who had conducted me into the castle. I approached them. The old gentleman at first regarded me with evident displeasure: he rose, gave me his hand, and his looks

He

softened. We both entered the avenue without saying a word. appeared to be undecided with himself: he suddenly stopped, threw a most penetrating glance on me, and asked, in a firm voice: Hast thou seen her?'

'Yes,' was my reply, but without learning who she is, or why she is languishing in the prison.'

Thou shalt know it, young man,' he said, ' and the blood will boil in thy veins. Then wilt thou ask, 'Why has Heaven poured out its whole wrath on this weak gray-headed old man, who has always loved virtue and respected her laws?'

We sat down under a tree, and he told me an awful story; which, my friends, I will tell you another time. Suffice it, I discovered the secret of the stranger in Gravesend - a dreadful secret!... The sailors were waiting for me at the gates of the castle. We returned to the vessel, set sail, and soon lost sight of Bornholm.

The sea roared. Lost in sad meditation, I stood upon the deck: sighs oppressed my breast, and the wind wafted my tears into the sea.

A CHAPTER ON LINES.

BY A NEW CONTRIBUTOR.

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LINES are of various kinds, or as a naturalist would say, of divers species. First, there are the moral lines; line upon line and precept upon precept.' These lines have had much to do with human destiny. They were distinctly marked in the garden of Eden. They fenced in virtue, peace, and heavenly happiness; they kept out crime, misery, and the evil spirits of the powers of the air. Eve foolishly and wickedly burst these heaven-appointed barriers, and thence came sin and all our wo.' From that hour, during four thousand years, the history of the world can be summed up in one word; a burning desire to grind to powder and trample under foot all vestiges of those lines which Eve so rebelliously violated. When the company of angels sang, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will to men,' these lines were again more distinctly marked in the glad tidings' which were published to mankind. Alas! how little have they been regarded! How often have they been rudely torn asunder! There is something about them which is beautiful and delicate in the extreme. With intense interest I have watched them, and their influence upon 'life's fitful fever.' They seem to possess a peculiar charm for youth, and those of riper years who are children of their FATHER which is in Heaven. I have likened them to the attenuated web which so gracefully floats in the glittering sun-light of an October sky. The innocence of youth would shrink from breaking such a silvery thread; while yonder hardened, callous soul would brush them by, and curse them as they twined around his frame. Oh! let these moral lines be far extended, until they shall reach around the world; until all shall know their hallowed influence !

Investigators of general principles tell us that there are lines physical as well as moral. These lines are drawn between temperance and intemperance; between all those various concatenations which are the out-riders of premature decay, and the manifold ingredients of a vigor. ous old age. Physical lines must be looked after. If they are disregarded, trouble will come. Yes, reader, fritter away the spring-time of your days in a routine of parties and suppers, balls and operas, carousings and revellings, and you may rest assured that these parasites of luxury, these harpies of wealth, will strip you of all that shows divinity in man. These were the dreadful reefs on which Rome rushed to her fate. Beware! Neither rush to the other extreme, but use the innocent enjoyments of life temperately, reasonably, happily: then the joyous shout of Health shall not give place to the sickening smile of Dissipation. The good old Croton, as it gurgles through this mighty city, cries aloud, 'Look out for the physical line!' Yes, venerable New-Yorkers! make a free use of its potent charms; at break of day take a 'realiz