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• That hour it now was Rome's, and he
Who sat desponding there,
Of all that she could dare;
The Roman leaned alone;
The past has ever shown.
Are given but for a day;
No power but pass'd away!
And then went forth to war again!' The same clever, versatile, and graceful Writer has contributed a good story to illustrate a humourous design by Richter--Peeping into a Letter at the Post-office.
Friendship's Offering fully supports its average character. Among the contributions which have most pleased us, we may mention the Mysterious Stranger, by Leitch Ritchie ; the Veiled Lady of Ajmeer, by J. B. Fraser; Match-making, by the inexhaustible Miss Mitford; and more than all, Cromwell House,
or Three Scenes in the Life of a Commonwealth's Man,' by Miss Lawrance. From this we must take an extract.
. One glorious summer's evening in 1652, a young horseman rode slowly up to a small house, still to be seen near the summit of Highgate Hill, and dismounting, knocked at the door. His name and errand were quickly told; and the worthy Master Heywood, who had now discovered, by the clearest possible light, that it was his bounden duty to uphold the Commonwealth, rushed to the door : “ Come in, good cousin Mayhew. So ye seek an introduction to his Excellency. Glorious times these! wondrous appearing of Providence! Truly, the spirit of prophecy did rest upon your godly father. I never forget his words ; for was the like ever heard? He raised up even as David, and kings of the earth bringing gifts unto him ; or, as learned Dr. Godwin set forth in his last morning exercise, like Joseph,
6. That he might at his pleasure bind
The princes of the land ;
Wisdom to understand.” Glorious things do our eyes behold! Why, this house, worth full three hundred pounds, I purchased for half, and the hangings into the bargain. Who is there, as worthy Colonel Harrison saith, but must rejoice in the welfare of Zion ?”
«« But where is the Lord General ?" inquired Mayhew.
«« He is staying out, there yonder, at my lady Ireton's. But surely, or my eyes deceive me, there is his Excellency, with Colonel Harrison, now coming along the path.”
• The young man turned quickly round, eager to catch a view of that extraordinary man, whose fame was the theme of all Europe. In the younger of the two, a bold, good-humoured, though coarse looking man, he recognized Harrison. But could the elder, he, whose heavy features, awkward gait, and plain suit of dark gray, seemed to mark him but as some thrifty farmer, some small freeholder, could he be the warrior who, snatching the banner from the flying cornet, rallied the twice discomfited host at Marston Moor, and bore away a glorious victory ? Could that harsh voice bid triumphant defiance to the monarchy on the proud field of Naseby? Could the members of that mightiest parliament have quailed before the flash of that dull gray eye? Ere young Mayhew had recovered his surprise, Master Heywood had hastened toward the pair with bows, expressing the quintessence of reverential feeling.
cor Stand up, man, put on thy hat--wherefore all this reverence to a fellow mortal? Who hast here?” and in the searching, though momentary glance which the speaker cast, young Mayhew felt that he indeed stood in the presence of a master spirit.
66 A young kinsman of mine, so please your Excellency, son to worthy Captain Mayhew, who was killed at Edgehill, and who said how truly great your Excellency would be ;-he is come to offer his services to our glorious Commonwealth.”
or I knew him well, and for his sake the son is welcome," answered Cromwell, a smile of singular benignity playing over those heavy features. He paused a few moments, and then laying his hand familiarly on young Mayhew's shoulder, said, “ Can'st go a journey for
o« Right willingly, your Excellency, this very night.”
6- Thou art a man for the Commonwealth's service,” cried the General, smiling at the young man's eagerness; “ Come down to me at my daughter's house within half an hour."
ror You're a made man, Master Edward,” cried his admiring cousin. “ You see the General remembered your late godly father, for I have never been slack when I could get speech of his Excellency, to say somewhat concerning you. Now there is a vacancy for a cornet in the General's own troop; might you not edge in a word, as they say, for my second boy, Maher-Shahal-Hashbaz, whose name I changed from that heathenish one Charles, when news came how that son of Belial was going to send over the Irish papists, and I was grieved for the afflictions of our Zion ?"
· Young Mayhew went down; but vainly did Master Heywood endeavour to ascertain the result of that interview, for by the earliest dawn on the morrow he departed.
"Three days passed ; and then as evening closed in, the young man, faint and worn, leaping from his tired horse, presented himself at the
door of the lady Ireton's, and demanded instant conference with the Lord General Cromwell.
“ His Excellency is in close discourse with some friends," said his trusty secretary Thurloe; “nor can he be seen, save by him who bringeth glad tidings."
vis His counsel shall stand,” responded young Mayhew; and the secretary, recognizing the countersign, immediately led him up the noble staircase, adorned with military emblems, and decorated with neatly carved small figures of the parliament soldiers, each bearing his appropriate arms, into the withdrawing room, where the General was seated at the head of a large table, and with him three friends. “ Now for an account of your journey,” said he, smiling familiarly.'
We have not room for Master Mayhew's report, which conveys to Cromwell the gratifying assurance that the last hopes of the royalists are at an end. A conversation ensues between Cromwell, Vane, and Harrison, in which the characters are well supported. At length, Cromwell is driven to remark, that if he is set in this government above his fellows, ' 'tis a mighty price he 'must pay':
«« It is a solemn truth,” said a middle-aged man, whose peculiarly luxuriant locks of light brown hair and studied neatness of apparel contrasted strongly with the appearance of those around him ; lifting his hand, and turning his eyes, clear, but destitute of vision, toward the Lord General, “it is a solemn truth, that he who is called forth to a mighty work must lay down a mighty price! For not alone must he endure the scoff and scorn of the brutish herd, that growl at the gentle violence which unlooses their chains, but the scoff of the worldly-wise, the scorn of the proudest among men, and more than all, the averted eye even of the good, who standing not on his vantage ground, see not the glorious results, and censure, even as the owl and bat blame the noontide sun, because too bright for their imperfect vision. And thus is the patriot leader crowned, not with laurel, but with thorn,- lifted up, not in triumph, but in mockery,—fed, not with honied praise and odorvus benedictions, but with the gall of fierce revilings. Yet, shall he pause on his high career? Shail he draw back. whom Heaven bids onward ? No; though his staff in his hand become a serpent,—though all the waves of the Erythrean main are dashing before him,-though his own people, even those for whom he wrought so great deliverance, cry, 'Who is this Moses that we should obey him?'”
" He speaketh truly,” cried Cromwell, who had listened with intense interest to the words of his Latin secretary..... “ Saith not the Scripture, · A good name is better than precious ointment'? And a memory famous to all generations was the heritage promised to the righteous.”
so Nor shalt thou lose that reward, illustrious man !" answered the Poet, solemnly raising his hand, his fixed eyes lifted up towards Heaven, as though by a finer sense a vision of the unseen future were vouchsafed to him in recompense for his mortal blindness. “ Scorn thou to reap a quick but scanty fame, which gourd-like a night may mature, and a short day destroy ; but be thy fame the slowly springing, firmly rooted, wide-spreading bay, that through the long succession of centuries shall flourish over thy tomb. Thy tomb! did I say? They may cast thee out of thy grave, and scatter thy dust to the winds, but, can they blot out thy name? Can they scatter thy memory? That name, which, like the doom-announcing sentence traced by no earthly hand, shall appal each crowned tyrant in the midst of his unhallowed banquet of uncontrolled rule. A blight, deep and deadly, may gather round thy fame, and those who trembled at the living hero may spurn with asinine hoof the lifeless corpse ; but heed not thou ! thou, who, by the self-same appointment that placed the giver of glowing life in the heavens, art set to be the ruler of men below. He may sink in clouds, but to-morrow he arises in fresh glory. Like him, go on in thy course; great--not that on thy brow is set the thick clustering laurel of threefold victory ;-not, that the royal standard of England swept her proud blazonry even in the dust before thee ;- not, because the crown of three kingdoms faded in dim eclipse before the star of thine ascendant; but that, at thy call, England arose from the dust, and stood in enfranchised glory; and freedom of conscience, and all her goodly train came forth from her dungeon gloom; and religion, pure religion, tricked in no broidered vestment, but clad in spotless white, marched through the land beneath thy protecting shield, and sat down on her throne of dominion. Go on, illustrious man! complete what thou hast so well begun. Despise a fleeting fame that shall wither like the fading flowers strewn upon a new-made grave, and be 'the praise and the heroic song of all posterity.'”
. The poet ceased, but the keen eye of that gifted man to whom the welcome counsel had been addressed, was fixed on the speaker, eagerly as though these encouraging words still flowed on. “ It shall be”, he half murmured. None knew what he meant ; but, ere that year had closed, that soldier of fortune, seated in the chair of state, received from the Commissioners the great seal of the kingdom, and heard the joyful shouts of his companions in arms proclaiming him, “ Lord Protector of the Commonwealth of England, Scotland, and Ireland.” ,
From among the poetical contributions, we must cull the following very beautiful and touching Sonnet.
• Oh! if thou lov'st me, love me not so well!
For, in this ceaseless mingling of the heart,
I sicken with the weight, and weeping start!
Walk we a world of sin, and change, and pain ?
Our all of wealth and happiness contain ?
Than thus in love's fantastic realm to rove;
And ours might treasure find that ne'er shall fade,
And soar from human to immortal love!
(Gertrude.) A common place design of Corbould's is illustrated by some, elegant and rather striking verses by Charles Whitehead, which, but for their length, would tempt transcription. But we must make room for the following.
• Attend, all ye who list to hear our noble England's praise,
It was about the lovely close of a warm summer's day,
The freshening breeze of eve unfurled that banner's massy fold,