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Thou would'st speak of? and thy woe of her bereft ?

Reigns love thus paramount within thy soul?

Methinks a nobler flame might with it strive

In a brave hero's breast! Dear are to him

Alike his fame and sword: bright guides are these,

Be it thine to follow them! nor be it said

Love veil'd a warrior's crest?

PaoloWhat dost thou say? Dost pity me? Could'st hate a little less,

If with my sword fresh triumphs were

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I'll none, save one of laurel wove by thee! My meed, one word, one smile, one look of thine!

Fran. Great God! what words are these?

Thee, thee I love!
Thee, thee, Francesca! and despairing

Fran. What do I hear? art mad, or
I? what saidst thou?
Paolo I love thee.

Dar'st thou? Hush!

we may be heard. Thou lov'st me? Dost thou know I am thy sister?

Art thou so fickle? hast so soon forgot Thine earlier flame? Alas! let go my


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brave beyond

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I lov'd thee !

Fran. PaoloThis love I hid; thought

Thou, thou lovd'st me!

For a while.

but on one day me

Thou must have read my heart. Thy gentle foot

Stole from thy virgin bow'r to seek awhile

The garden's shade. On the lake's margin stretch'd

Amid the flowr's, I long had sighing gaz'd

Up at thy window; and at sudden sight Of thee, my loadstar, trembling I arose. Thou in a book absorb'd, beheld'st me not,

But on it fell a tear; mov'd, I approach'd, And spoke to thee; disjointed were my words;

Disjointed too were thine. The book thou gav❜st,

And we together read-and read of love!
Alone, and of each other unafraid,
Our glances then first met; my cheek
grew pale,

And thou didst tremble; and with sud-
den haste
Didst disappear.

With thee the book remain'd?

Oh! unforgotten day!

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Fell from thine eye that day!


Hence, I implore thee !

I may remember nought but my slain brother.

Paolo-Not then his blood had flow'd! Oh! civil war

My country's scourge! thou'st cost me dear! That blood

Fatally shed, forbad me to aspire
Then to thy hand. I sought in Asia's


Undying vengeance for my love of thee!
Fran.-Is't true? did'st love me?
On the day I came
My brother's herald to Ravenna, thou
Didst pass before me with a funeral train. I cherish'd still the hope

Oblivion for my deed-thought to return
Ere long, and find thee in relenting mood,
To woo, to win thee. Yes, to make thee

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Paolo, begone!


Inexorable fate!

entrance of the astonished Lancelot, (consisting as it does almost entirely of broken exclamations,) is big with fatal consequences. efforts of Paolo to take leave, without The convulsive betraying himself, to his injuring and injured brother; and the deathlike swoon of the wretched Francesca, let in a fatal ray of light on the bewildered naturally concludes a course of deep husband. Exasperated by what he and premeditated dissimulation on the part of his wife and brother, he gives determining to detain at least, till the himself up to thoughts of vengeance;

"dark veil" shall be rent from their previous history, its suspected objects.

The fourth act finds him sternly bent on the determined, though dreaded investigation; his mild nature steeled, by supposed ingratitude and treachery, alike against conjugal affection, paternal love, and filial piety. The scene in which the old father describes his own relentings towards the daughter of his bosom, is full of natural and resistless pathos.

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The being whose absence caus'd her tears to flow!

Ha! did she back invite him? Down my heart!

I stain thy name? No! now another's Grasp not that lance, my shudd'ring


Thon art; 'tis mine to die! Blot from

thy breast

All mem'ry of me, live henceforth in




Enter Guido.

Thy daughter


So must it be!

Thinks then to flee, unquestioned, from my roof?

Forgive the tears I've caus'd to flow; Unsanctioned save by

oh! weep not;

Love me no more. Alas! what have I said?

Yes! love me, love me still; weep ever

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Lan. Then is she guilty!

No! resistless fate
Condemns us all alike to ceaseless woe.
Lan. Not guilty dost thou call her?
yet a prey

To sacrilegious fires?


Deeply atoned

By floods of penitence, and ceaseless pray'rs

The brief scene which follows the From him, to fly for ever. Scarce had life

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For her and Paolo! but she dreams in

He follows, doubtless, to Ravenna! Ha!
Traitor! I have thee still.


Respect mine age.

My duty is to save thine to renounce


Enter Paolo.


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Put me out of pain at

With thy good sword-revile me not!
Who I

Seduce that spotless angel of the skies?
Far be it from me! He who loves Fran-

Can be no villain-had he been one once, Love had reclaim'd him! Her bright image stamp'd

Lan.Come forward, shameless vil- On any heart would make it like her own, lain ! A throne for gods to dwell on! For Paolo her love

Words like these Sound strangely to me; on another's lips They had been atoned ere now; but in

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I sought to be humane, and brave, and pious;

And for her sake_perchance achiev'd my wish

Better than is the careless soldier's wont. Lan.-Oh! shameless man! dost boast thy love to me?

In this haughty and unyielding mood, it may easily be foreseen, that exaspe

Been thy familiar friend? whom in his ration on both sides must ensue; to


which Francisca, the wretched cause

and victim of the unhappy contest, only adds fuel by rushing in, and throwing herself between the combatants. And now, amid the clash of arms in this unfraternal, but not unnatural conflict, does the moral, the deep and awful moral, of which, in the absence of mere vulgar guilt, the author never permits us to lose sight, stand out in bold relief from the sable back-ground of the picture. All have alike sinned, and conspire towards the unhappy catastrophe. Paolo, by idly suppressing, while yet unreprovable by God or man, his youthful passion for Francisca, and yet more idly cherishing it, when a brother's blood had interposed its fatal barrier; Francisca, by yielding (and we are not told either to overwhelming force or even to parental entreaty) her hand where her heart could never accompany it; and Lancelot by entering (as his brother bitterly reproaches him with) into a mere political alliance, without endeavouring to gain, or even ascertaining the state of the affections of its hapless victim. The father, too, the grey-haired, broken-hearted father, is, on this point, also a party in the general delinquency; and truly does the author vindicate his own just moral sense, as well as reconcile us to the doom of the pair, by the frequent avowals of its most erring member herself, that the infidelity of the heart is no less criminal in the eye of heaven, than that grosser breach of matrimonial VOWS to which some sentimentalists have limited their ideas of guilt.

All, we now feel and acquiese in, must end calamitously. In vain is the disarmed and overpowered Paolo securely guarded in his father's desecrated hall. In vain even has the venerable Guido achieved, in a nocturnal interview, by his grey hairs and paternal sympathy with his injured son-in-law, the pardon of his daughter. Unsatisfied with this extorted forgiveness, Francisca, full of tardy but heart-felt penitence, pines to receive it from his own relenting lips, and despatches her reluctant father to solicit his presence. During his absence, Paolo, tortured by his brother's hints of vengeance, and haunted by fears for the life of Francisca, bursts

into her chamber, having bribed his guards, and regained by their means fatal possession of his sword. But though in vain does he now pour passionate and seductive reminiscences of the past, or visions of the future on an ear closed and fortified by her late hallowed resolutions, against the voice of love itself-alas! while in the act of repelling, with all the solemnity of irrevocable vows of widowhood, even his suggestions of possible future bliss in the event of her husband's deaththat husband (drawn to the spot by her own and her father's entreaties) interrupts, and of course, misapprehends the interview. This time the conflict is too bitter not to be mortal. All, even her protestations, tell against its wretched cause; and she meets death, perhaps thus most welcome, by rushing once more (not uninjured) between the combatants, and receiving, from his own sword so lately exchanged in pledge of brotherly affection, the wound designed for the more guilty Paolo. It is but for a moment that she thus defers his doom. The demon of jealousy rages too fiercely to be sated by a single victim. The unnatural fight continues; and over the corse of her whose peace he had marred on earth, Paolo sinks beneath his brother's vengeance! In such a bosom as Lancelot's the devastating tempest is indeed brief; and the next moment would have seen the fatal weapon turned against himself, but for the interposition of the horror-struck father.

Thus ends a tragedy, which coming home in its errors and its woes to every human bosom, disdaining aid from pomp and circumstance and stage effect, rests its claims on the humbler sympathies of our common nature. In Italy, where violations of the nuptial bond, less involuntary, alas! and less ideal than Francisca's, are too venially regarded, its moral influences may have been great indeed; and whoever in that "burning clime" succeeds in associating (and to the conviction of its votaries) unregulated passion with guilt and misfortune, has a right to be regarded in the light of a public benefactor.


THE rapid advances which the older Australian colonies have made in wealth and population, together with their increasing commercial importance to the mother country, must prove, under any circumstances, an interesting subject of investigation, while from various causes it is peculiarly so at present. The tendency to emigrate never prevailed more universally in Great Britain; and not only the number, but the wealth and respectability of the emigrants is increasing every year, while unfortunately the disturbed condition of Canada has limited their choice, by putting a stop to all removal to that quarter, and restricting them to the alternative of the Cape of Good Hope, or to some of the Australian colonies. It is, therefore, of the utmost importance that the capabilities of the different establishments in New Holland, the nature of the climate, state of society, and their future prospects should be accurately estimated. This we shall endeavour to do in a series of three or four papers, and we shall devote the present paper to the consideration of the physical features and natural productions of New Holland, together with some remarks on the history of its oldest colony.

New Holland is situated between the 12th and 39th degrees of south lat. and extends from the 112th to the 154th degree of east longitude, and consequently has a length of about 3000, and a breadth of 2000 miles, with 8000 miles of sea coast, and an area of three millions of square miles. This vast island, therefore, occupies a surface equal to three-fourths of the European continent; but with this important peculiarity, that while a considerable portion of the north of Europe borders on the polar regions, New Holland, on the contrary, stretches from the temperate zone towards the equator; so that notwithstanding its smaller size, it is, no doubt, capable of supporting a greater number of inhabitants. If we might venture to speculate on the destiny of the Anglo-Australians, as compared with that of their Anglo-American brethren, we may anticipate that the former will exert a much more extensive and beneficial influence on the progress of civilization. Unincumbered with any thing like a permanent system of slavery, with no coloured race rising

up within their territory, to form an internal and domestic source of danger, such as that from which the American union has no chance of escaping, the state of society in Australia will be more stable and healthy; and many disgraceful prejudices will be avoided. The Anglo-Australians, we may rest assured, will one day form the first nation of the east, the splendid and semibarbarous islands of the Indian ocean will form part of their dependencies, and their influence will be paramount in the islands of the Pacific; and if ever the English supremacy in the east be lost, it will only be transferred to a people of English descent. The AngloAmericans will spread to the shores of the Pacific, and may, perhaps, occupy Mexico, while the Australians, situated within a short distance of India and China, will exert a powerful influence over the future history of one-half the population of the globe. Already the Indian government is looking to Australia for a supply of horses for the use of the army.

If we examine the map of New Holland, we shall find that although almost nothing is known respecting its interior, every where on its shores there are favourable situations for the establishment of colonies. The colony of New South Wales is on the south-eastern angle of New Holland, and has extended itself into the interior beyond the Blue Mountains; and more recently a subordinate settlement has been formed along Bass straits in that newly explored and beautiful country to which the name of Australia Felix has been given. To the west and north we find the new colony of South Australia; and farther to the north, we have the recent settlement of the Swan River, which, from the excellence of its position with regard to India, will become important in a commercial as well as an agricultural point of view. Of the enormous portion of unoccupied coasts, the eastern parts may be considered as the least important, both on account of the great distance from Europe, the number of coral reefs, and the troublesome navigation of Torres straits. It is, however, surprising that the north-west part of New Holland has hitherto been neglected, as an establishment on Melville island, or Van Diemen's Gulph, from its proximity to Java, the Philippines, and

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