to her those who would soon have her out of her tragedy humor, he turned on his heel, to seek the assistance of his vile associates. Mabel, in the same attitude, and with the same look, followed him step by step to the door. When she heard his departing foot, she looked to the fastenings, there were none inside the chamber-she dropped her dagger, and clasped her hands in despair. On a sudden a thought struck her. She ran to the casement and threw it open. It looked into the garden, above which it stood some ten feet. Without a moment's hesitation she leaped out, and finding herself safe when she came to the ground, flew down the garden like an escaped bird. Keeping the wall in view, she came, out of breath, to a door at its extremity. It was partly open. She dashed through it, staggered forward, and fell with a wild hysterical laugh, into the ready arms of Sir Valentine.

CHAPTER VII.

Forth goeth all the court both most and lest

To fetch the floures fresh, and braunch and blome-
And namely hauthorn brought both page and grome
And then rejoysen in their great delite:
Eke ech at other throw the floures bright,
The primrose, the violete, and the gold,
With fresh garlants party blew and white.
CHAUCER.

There's not a budding boy or girl, this day
But is got up, and gone to bring in May.
A deale of youth, ere this, is come
Back, and with white-thorn laden home.

HERRICK.

In this our spacious isle I think there is not one

But he hath heard some talk of him and eke of Little John,
Of Tuck the merry friar, which many a sermon made
In praise of Robin Hood, his outlaws, and their trade,
And of his mistress dear, his loved Marian.

DRAYTON.

Shall the hobby horse be forgot then?

The hopeful hobby horse, shall he lie foundered?
BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.

THE feeling with which the youthful poet regarded the fair object of his recent adventure, if it could be called love, was very different from the passion which goeth under that name. In fact, it was more a sentiment than a passion rather the offspring of the intellect than of the affections. It was the first rosy hues of light which ushereth in the sunshine of the soul, producing the fairest glimpses of heaven, before the atmosphere, hath heat enough to warm the blood. Love it was beyond all doubt, but it was that peculiar species which is found only to visit the very young and very imaginative. It is true it hath a natural source, but it is equally undeniable, it dwelleth in the fairy regions of the ideal. Where there is early sign of great intellect, there will also be found a like early sign of deep feeling. The one is supported by the other, fostered, encouraged, and fed by it.

Beauty is indeed the air it breathes, but imagination is the soil from which it draws its nourishment. The boy genius is ever the boy lover, and having found some gentle being worthy to be enshrined in the sanctuary of his hopes, he proceeds, not only to invest her image with all loveable attributes, but with such loveable behavior as seemeth most proper for the entertainment of his fantasy.

Ideas

He finds a spirit rising over his thoughts, which gives them a sort of softened halo, that at some favorable opportunity taketh the shape of song or sonnet delicately fashioned-a sensible adoration-an inspiration beginning and ending in a spiritual heaven of its own. take to themselves wings, and fly east and west, and north and south, bringing back the riches, rarities, and perfections of the whole globe with which to deck this favored deity. He ransacks the deepest hollows of the sea-he snatches glory from the shining stars-he makes the enamelled earth show all her bravest tapestry that he may choose the daintiest piece of all-and far above, beneath, around, and about, where splendor shines, or modest beauty hides, he bears away their gifts, as offerings worthiest of so pure a shrine.

Truly, as hath just been said, this is the love of the cool morning of life, that differeth as much in its nature from the blushing sunrise of youth, as from the noon-tide heats of manhood; and like unto that early season of the day, it soon glides into a warmer atmosphere. Love, such as this, will always be found to have no purpose, save the deification of its object, which it loves to worship, rather than worships to love. This way it goeth on, like the silk-worm in its cocoon, only known by the pleasing mantle it weaves around itself; and having at last spent all its energies, it comes forth, some brief space after its labors, as different in character and appearance as any two things can be.

This love, though, let it be remembered, made William Shakspeare a poet, some sign of which, albeit, it must be thought of all judges, one of no particular greatness, may be seen in the simple ballad found by the an

tiquary in the book of songs, which did so much delight the good old knight and his companions; but it should also be borne in mind, such are ever first efforts. The materials of poetry may lie in prodigal heaps within the brain, but the fashioning them into the properest shape comes but after many trials. The soliloquy the young poet spoke in the place of the one intended to end the play, deserveth praise only for the readiness with which it was written, and aptness for the occasion which wrought it into existence. It cannot be expected the finish of an experienced writer, or the sufficiency of a mature genius should be found in such things. They should be taken merely for what they appear. Nevertheless, if it be thought the poet was but in his pot-hooks, I doubt not in good time to show such craft of penmanship in him, as shall be all men's admiration unto the end of time.

Still was he as diligent a student as ever; and never could scholar have more careful teachers than William Shakspeare had in Master Peregrine, the antiquary, and Sir Johan, the chaplain. Ever since the affair of the ballad, each of these two watched till they could find the young student alone, and then they would strive as never they strove before he should profit by their instructions, in the full belief all the whilst, that from his teaching alone, the youth had gained all the knowledge be possessed. By their means he obtained such an acquaintance with what was worthiest of note in ancient English literature, and Greek and Latin classic lore, as it was scarce possible he could have obtained by any other means. But about this time he began more to observe than he had hitherto done. He made comparisons-he judged he looked into the meanings of things,-be commenced studying the application of words, and he analysed and weighed, and sifted what he read, and what he saw, till he could point out where lay the good and where the bad-how they might be distinguished, and what was the difference between any two particular matters that looked to be alike. This study was not confined to books: he pursued it wherever he went, and found

no lack of subjects in the common phenomena of nature. Even a drop of rain was some object for speculationthe shooting of a star, the fructification of a plant, and the falling of a leaf seemed as worthy of inquiry. A storm never rolled over him but the lightning flashed some new meaning into his mind-and he never witnessed the rising of the sun, but with it came some fresh light into his thoughts. As he saw the emmets crowding to and fro among the he would say, grass, "Wherefore is this ?". and whilst he watched the builders of the grove making their delicate dwellings in the forked branches of the tree, he would exclaim, "How is this done?" High or low he sent his curious mind seeking intelligence. Nothing escaped him, and to his eager questionings, all things in nature gave him ready answers.

The gentle Mabel he saw not again all this time. She frequented her favorite haunts, but she was nowhere visible. Day after day found him stealing among the trees where he had so oft watched her graceful progress, but his anxious gaze was never blessed with the slightest sign of her presence. He changed the time. He took the early morning by the hand and roamed the park before the hind had left his bed of rushes; but though nature rose wooingly to meet his glance, he looked upon her graces only as a sort of faint cold picturing of those he desired to meet in all their living freshness in a much fairer original. He made himself familiar with the noon, and still did nature court him with her lovingest looks, and still did she recieve such attentions as proved she was merely regarded as the embassador of the fair sovereign of his thoughts. And he lingered out the hours with twilight, till she was lost in the embraces of the shadowy eve, but with no other result than had accompanied his earlier seeking. Thus passed the winter, till the frost was gone, the hearth-side tales forgotten, the Christmas sports but faintly remembered, and everything around was full of green promise and blooming expectation.

The chief companions of his own age had long been