vancing a doctrine which they used with intent to destroy the Bible, it is evident they are trying to repair the old and rotten ship of infidelity, and seek to bring to their aid the force and misapplied light of science; but the case is too strong and too clear against them; they may catch a few misguided people, but their book will soon find its way to the buried tombs where rest the infidel works of Hume and Paine, Bolingbroke and Voltaire, et id genus omne.

In conclusion we have to say, that we purposely left untouched the argument offered from the Bible, because we knew no believer in the Bible would disagree with us; the Bible needs no argument to sustain its truths, and as our authors adroitly attempted to seek light from the scientific argument, we deemed it best to stick to their text.

With what horror must the Christian philanthropist look upon that heartless and cruel philosophy, which uproots the deepest and purest feelings planted in the innermost nature of man, enjoined upon him by his strongest tendencies, that recognition of the bond of human nature which binds man to his fellow-man in one tie of common sympathy, kindness and love; for "there is neither Jew nor Greek, neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus."

"Whilst therefore we maintain the unity of the human species, we at the same time

NATURE AND MY HEART.

The tend'rest flower bedrenched with rain,
Still lifts its head and smiles again
When morning light dispels the cloud
Which lately thandered fast and loud,

And thou, my heart, be as the flower.
The little stream, with crystal flow
By some rude storm doth murky grow,
And angry rushes, dark and fast,
Yet soon will clear and calm at last,

And thou, my heart, learn from the stream.
The mighty oak, at winter's blast,
Strips off its leaves and limbs and mast,
And stands a type of mute despair;
But blooms again with vernal air,

And thou, my heart, be as the oak.
Old ocean's tide, in tempest driven,
Lashes the shore and cries to Heaven
In fearful woe, in fury wild;
But soon is still as nestling child:

And thou, my heart, learn from the sea.
The flower, the stream, the oak, the sea,
All have their times of gloom and glee,
To them there comes at last relief,
But souls ne'er find surcease of grief;

Then thou, my heart, learn to submit.
All nature has some fitting balm
To heal, renew, refresh or calm,
But there are hearts whose ceaseless woe
Solace or calm can never know;

Then thou, my heart, learn to endure.
Cast up thy gaze from earthly things!
Deem sorrow good; to thee it brings
Promise of Life when Nature dies,
For Nature's voice forever cries,

Oh, bruised heart, trust God alone!
Richmond, Nov., 1854.
A. J. C.

repel the depressing assumption of superior THE LAST DAYS OF GASTON PHOEBUS.

and inferior races of men. There are na

tions more susceptible of cultivation, more highly civilized, more ennobled by mental

CONCLUDED.

CHAPTER XXV.

COME, AND WHAT HIS MASTER REPLIED.

It was nearly midnight.

The Viscount de Chateaubon was pacing his chamber immersed in thought, when the door opened and he saw the Moor Kaf enter,

culture, but none in themselves nobler than HOW THE MOOR TOLD HIS MASTER THAT THE TIME HAD others. If we should indicate an idea which, throughout the whole course of history, hast ever more and more widely extended its empire, or which, more than any other, testifies to the much contested and still more decidedly misunderstood perfectibility of the whole human race, it is that of establishing our common humanity-of striving to remove the barriers which prejudice and limited views of every kind have erected among men, and to treat all mankind, without reference to religion, nation or colour, as one fraternity, one great community.'

Sherwood, Chesterfield co., Va. Dec. 1854.
Humboldt's Cosmos, p. 363.

He was wrapped in a dark cloak; his swarthy countenance was suffused with blood, and his black eyes shone with a sombre fire.

The Viscount almost rushed towards him.
"You have it?" he exclaimed.
"Yes, my Lord, it is here."

And the Moor opening his cloak, showed the Viscount a small casket of ebony with a strip of parchment affixed to the lid.

"Have you really succeeded without dis

covery?" said the latter in an agitated voice; | so strangely bound on the back of my Ara

has no one seen you?"

"No one, my Lord."

"Give it to me."

bian and tortured by bloodhounds, I made a prediction that the Count who did me that act of kindness would some day repent of it.

The Moor drew back and placed the casket Well, he has doubtless done so."

in the breast of his robe.

"A momemt!" he said. "I have a word to say to you, my Lord."

The Viscount was silent.

"I have served you, my Lord," continued the Moor, "in many delicate and important

"Be quick, then," said the Viscount, im- affairs. This is one of them. I will detail patiently; "that box"

the difficulties I encountered in obeying your

"Is of great value-I know it well, my lordship's commands. To-day you said to Lord."

me 'I must have a casket,' and you pointed out the room where it was to be found. I went and knocked at the door. Messire Evan opened it and bade me enter. I replied that I had mistaken his room for your own and retired, but first I saw the casket on a table near his pillow. I concealed myself and waited. In an hour he came out and locked the door taking the key away with

"What do you mean?" said the Viscount uneasily. "That my services are worth something- him. Nothing remained but to enter the a little." room at night. The casket otherwise would

"Are you not well fed, well treated, dog be safe. Well, I did enter it by night. The of a Moor!"

"Good-good!" said the Moor in a calm voice, though his dark eyes seemed to scintillate from beneath their shaggy brows; "you are getting angry, my Lord."

young lord was asleep and as he slept I looked at him and measured his strength in case he should awake at any noise. His body is slender but vigorous, elegant but strong and agile; I drew my poniard. I calAnd I have reason. Give me the casket."culated the number of steps which it required "As I was about to say, my Lord," re- to reach the table where the casket lay and plied the Moor, without making any move- I crept along as you see a tiger creep towards ment to obey, "my services to your lord- his prey. Twice I stopped and held my ship have been great. My sufferings in your breath ;-the young man was troubled in his service have also been greater than you can sleep. At last I reached the table. At the understand. I was bound naked to a horse, moment when I extended my hand to take rendered wild by a burning tinder in his nos- the casket, he shuddered and opened his trils, and pursued by bloodhounds who tore eyes. The Christians, my Lord, do not bethe flesh of my legs!-it was in your ser- lieve in presentiments; it is different with vice. I have submitted to scoffs, to insult, the Moors, who give credit to these mysteand to blows-all in your service. I have been your emissary, your agent, your spy, your-but we will not speak of that."

"Of what?” said the Viscount. "Of the conversation which I held with your lordship at Pampeluna," replied the Moor, with a sardonic smile.

The Viscount turned pale and advanced towards Kaf in a threatening manner. The Moor laid his hand with affected carelessness on a dagger which stuck in his girdle.

"Oh, my Lord," he continued, "to be grateful to me for this accident that made

rious warnings. Luckily I had time to draw
myself into the shadow of his bed-curtains.
He again slept and here is the casket."
"Give it to me."

"Let us first determine its value, do you understand, Messire?"

"Quick, then; what is your price."

Ten thousand crowns."

"You are mad, or you dream! Who ever heard of such a sum."

"Of gold, my Lord. I must have it."

Dog! do you dare to trifle with me?" "Thanks, my Lord, I am a dog. I accept

you a Count! When I left the castle of Foix the title."

"Give me the casket." poisoned, I have-served you. For these "Give me the ten thousand golden crowns!" services I asked nothing then, for it was a "What has put this idea into your head-pleasure to me. Now all is changed. I shall the hope of extorting such a sum." leave you-I am called. The time has come; "Necessity and my due. Though I am a I need a sum of money. I must have it." dog, as Messire declared this moment, I have "What sum?" asked the Viscount, who none the less served him. I do not speak had listened to this speech in perfect amazeof the Jews I have tortured. Their cries ment, not unmixed with fear, at the bold and when I crucified them, as the Man called haughty gestures of the Moor. Christ was crucified, filled me with delight." "Dog of a Moor! slave of an unbelieving race! dost thou blaspheme!" exclaimed the Viscount. "Cursed infidel!"

The Viscount suddenly stopped, arrested by the appearance of the Moor who had raised his head and folded his arms upon his

breast.

His form seemed to dilate, to grow in magnitude; his eyes became strangely brilliant. and he cast upon his master a look of such pride and audacity that the Viscount lowered his eyes as if they had encountered a beam of the sun.

a

"The sum of ten thousand golden crowns" You are foolish."

"Messire, will you give me that sum of money?" "Not the half of it. Come, Kaf, this price is not to be thought of. Say three thousand crowns, and even if they must be of gold I will pay them."

"Do you wish to have this casket and the papers it contains, Messire the Viscount?" Of course."

66

Pay me what I ask, then, or you will never possess it."

The Viscount shrugged his shoulders.

Is it not better to have three thousand owns," he said, than a little ebony box which you can make nothing of?"

"So you think I can make nothing of it, Messire ?"

"Absolutely nothing, unless I purchase it." "I will carry it to Messire Evan and tell him all that has happened." "To Evan?" said the Viscount, changing color.

"What prevents me from doing this, Messire, and unfolding your part in the affair?” "The fact," said the Viscount, trying to "that Messire Evan speak with calmness, would give you nothing for restoring his own. property."

"Yes, I am a Moor!" he said, "the sor of an accursed race, trampled upon by th Christians, despised for their weakness, ab horred for their unbelief, meaner than those slaves, the Jews! And I!" continued the Moor with vehemence, "I who have been prince and led to battle ten thousand warriors, as brave as the haughtiest of Christendom, I, you imagine, have become a vile slave who fawns upon his master, and grovels in the dust before him! I am one of those degraded beings! but I have not fallen as they have fallen. I have bowed my head before the curse of Allah which has scattered my people like the leaves of the fig tree in autumn, I have bowed my head like the traveller who encounters the simoom of the desert, and thus I have escaped death, the death of the wind, worse than all others. But I am not the only Moor who has submitted and entered the service of his conquerors; of those conquerors who once fled before him a very enterprising prince. But my Lord as the dry stubble flies before the wind! The race is unconquered-it shall never be conquered! They may be driven to the desert; they may live a life of hardship and warn-Moor. ing, but never shall an Arab's spirit become that of a slave. I am one of that race, and I have hated the Christians! I have done them all injuries-I have betrayed, I have)

"To the Count D'Armagnac then," said the Moor enjoying his master's agitation. "The Count D'Armagnac!"

"Count Bernard, Messire, he is said to be

you turn pale; have I offended you ?”

"Give me the casket," said the Viscount rising from his seat and approaching the

"Give me the ten thousand golden crowns."

You will not abate." "No."

"You will dare to sell this casket to my like a dog-to be bound to a maddened enemies."

"You lie, Moor?" shouted the Viscount, your death will!" And he blew a loud note on a whistle sus-cords sank deeper, my body was sacked, I pended from his neck.

Upon the white road which wound over one has his day-the time will come. I will the hills in the direction of Spain, the Moor then have my revenge, I swear it by the holy was plainly visible flying on his black Ara- prophet. May he enable me to keep my

The Arabian gave a neigh and began really to put forth his speed. The archers who "To refuse it," he muttered through his were furiously urging their foaming horses clenched teeth, "to say he has refused it! Oh with the spur, assailed the Moor with a burst to act thus to me! Eblio! what I have borne of imprecations and commands to halt. Kaf in his service. To be struck across the face turned his head and laughed.

"Go back to your master," he shouted | dream. He knew, however, that he was "and tell him that we will meet again!" flying for his life; that nothing could save

Dog of a Saracen, halt!" cried the cap-him but his horse's speed, and he addressed tain of the archers.

Kaf replied by making his horse bound. The Arabian's speed became so great that the company of soldiers, though their horses were panting and covered with sweat at the furious pace they were travelling, could not preserve even their relative distances as at first.

him as if the Arab had been a human being. "On Abuker!" he said in a faint voice, "it is for thee to preserve or destroy thy master. Behind the enemy are coming on the wings of the wind; I hear their shouts I see the gleaming of their shields-they rejoice that the dog of an infidel is in their power. But they know not thee. Put forth The captain saw he must soon be left be- thy speed, child of the desert, and though hind with his troop and turning to one of the they come as the rushing wind they shall archers, not overtake thee. Son of the Carlani, child "Your bow!" he said; "give him an ar- of a race who fly across the sands of the desert like the shadow of a floating cloud, The archer had only to place a shaft on put forth thy speed-disappoint these enethe string and bend his bow. The arrow mies of the true believers. Lo! it is time pierced the Moor's robe, and passing entirely Abuker, for the son of Abdallah is faint! through, wounded his horse in the neck. The My brain is turning round, my limbs have Arabian neighed. The wound was however lost their power, a suffocating thirst is drying so slight that it only excited him to fresh up my blood. On, Abuker, on, or never speed.

row!"

more shall thy master see his people, his brethren, or the dark-eyed child of his heart. Allah preserve thee, little Ali, for thy father is as one who has passed away. The unbelievers follow his footsteps with the speed of

The captain of the archers saw that the Moor was untouched, and taking a bow ready strung from one of the men, he checked the speed of his horse, took deliberate aim, and sent an arrow through the Moor's breast di- gazelles-with the ferocity of tigers!" rectly beneath the shoulder.

CHAPTER XXVII.

THE SPEED OF A HORSE AND AN ARROW.

The troop cried out with joy and triumph. Kaf closed his eyes and fell forward on the neck of his steed. The Arabian seemed to understand the accident which had happened to his master, and what was expected of the breeze brought to his ears a distant shout. him. His swiftness became flight.

As the Moor uttered these fainting words,

"They are behind me!" cried Kaf, raising

The pursuers looked on almost with won- his eyes to heaven in despair; "they follow der. The Moor's wound, at first a subject of and they overtake! Oh! Allah, holy Maso much triumph, placed them no nearer to homet, prophet of God, is thy servant to be overcome, his flesh torn with pincers, his body racked, and by those who deny thy sacred law !"

their prey.

Kaf had not fainted, though for an instant a mist had seemed to pass before his eyes concealing all things but the bloody point of an arrow. He was still trembling with the acute pain of his wound but that was all. He could still preserve his seat and listen, though he was too weak to turn his head.

The Moor added this clause on remembering how often he had made others suffer what he now feared. He began to pray earnestly. Man when about to die feels the necessity of some heavenly reliance. In his prayer the name of his son was often uttered, and at last with large tears rolling down from his eyes, he resigned himself tranquilly to death.

His weakness rendered every thing around him vague and indistinct. He heard the shouts of his pursuers but they seemed to strike his ears from a vast distance, like the song of the lark in the clouds. He retained If he had not been deranged by emotion his consciousness, but the events passing and fear, he might have known that his enearound him appeared like those of a feverish mies had given up the pursuit. The great