Fate bids me wander wide Far from my home and thee; Hoarse winter's rugged sway, Boy! 'twould have been my pride Lo! to the spirit land She beckons thee away! Unclasp, my babe, thy father's hand, Thou can'st not with him stay! There! last of all my race, Sleep tranquilly and blest, Cradled in that most holy place- FEMALE WARRIORS. In the arsenal of the palace at Genoa, are some light cuirasses, made purposely for some Genoese ladies, who intended to join a crusade against the infidels. These female warriors were at length persuaded to give up their design by Pope Boniface the Eighth, who himself wrote a letter for that purpose. DOMESTIC TALES.-GRATITUDE. (Continued from page 36.) Godfrey having despatched his business at Norwich, was returning homeward as fast as his limbs could convey him, yet could not forbear stopping, to take one last, lingering look, as he came to the spot where he believed his money to have been dropped. And now that his perception was clearer, inasmuch as his mind and attention were less distracted, he, in an instant, caught a glimpse of the scarlet wrapper which enveloped the deeply-deplored and anxiouslysought treasure; which, the frequent passing of the carriages having removed the dust of the high road, lay partially revealed to his searching glance; though, by a casual observer, it might have long remained unnoticed. He seized it with inexpressible delight; but, as he went on his way, debated within himself whether he should detail the curious circumstance of its loss and recovery at home, or should suppress the story altogether. He well knew, from the irascible temper of his father, that his negligence would be as severely chastised, as if its effects had been more calamitous; and, by the time that he reached the cottage door, his fears prevailing over his natural love of truth and candour, had determined him not to mention the occurrence to any one, but to repair early on the following morning to Atherfield, to return to Mr. Jerningham his kind and timely donation. Accordingly, as Mr. Jerningham with his two children were taking their accustomed walk before breakfast, they encountered Godfrey on his honest errand; who, after mentioning the unexpected recovery of his lost sum, presented it for Mr. Jerningham's acceptance, precisely in the same state in which he had described it, when missing, if any doubt could have been entertained of his veracity; and it was not until Mr. Jerningham had repeatedly and peremptorily refused to receive it, that Godfrey was persuaded to retain it for his own advantage; and with a heart overwhelmed with gratitude, and eyes filled with tears, at this additional instance of gratitude, retired from the presence of his benefactor, breathing a prayer, that he might one day be enabled to shew his sense of so vast an obligation. Twenty years had passed since the date of this occurrence, when Mr. Jerningham, exhausted by a lingering and painful disease, sank into the grave; nor did his disconsolate widow long survive his loss. In consequence of which, the very valuable and extensive manor of Atherfield devolved to their only son Augustus, and the amiable Emma, who, about ten years previously to the demise of her foster-parents, had, with their entire concurrence and approval, given her hand to her cousin in marriage. One daughter, named Meliora, was the sole offspring of this union; a young lady, whose rare beauty and accomplishments had captivated the heart of Alfred Arden, the eldest son of Sir Matthew Arden, a baronet of the first rank and respectability in the county of Norfolk. Sir Matthew was a high minded and ambitious man; one who preferred nobility of lineage to real worth; who entertained the chimerical notion, that all which was desirable of attainment, and capable of conferring happiness, were comprised in a coronet, or an honourable genealogy; and who had been heard to declare, that the personal and mental endowments of the woman whom his son might lead to the altar, were but secondary, in his estimation, to the important qualification of having an high-sounding title prefixed to her name; and as the lovely Meliora was deficient in this empty distinction, Alfred's attachment excited the severest displeasure of his father, insomuch, that lest his son's imprudence should disappoint those elevated views which Sir Matthew had conceived, he determined to weaken the force of his boyish passion by separation from its object; and Alfred was, accordingly, despatched on a visit to the Continent; but not before he had found an opportunity to interchange vows of eternal love and constancy with his adored Meliora. Atherfield had been in the possession of the Jerningham family very nearly forty years, when a man named Henry Winter, stating himself to be the son of the rightful heir, to whom the property had been primarily bequeathed, set up a claim to the estate. At the same time adducing such indubitable proofs of his identity, and, by reverting to numerous corroborative facts, so completely succeeded in substantiating his title, that though some very able counsel recommended Mr. Jerningham to litigate the cause, on the ground of the long period of tenure, yet, as such a proceeding would inevi tably involve an immense expense, or at best, but an uncer tain issue, he chose rather, since Mr. Winter rejected all compromise of the matter in question, in compliance with the suggestions of his amiable partner, and the dictates of his own pacific disposition, to at once surrender all title to the ample revenues of Atherfield; and was taught to consider his treatment as being peculiarly merciful and lenient, in his not having been called on to refund the arrears of forty years' misappropriation. Mr. Jerningham, though not an extravagant, had never been a saving man. Anticipating the estate of Atherfield as a dowry for his daughter, he had given himself no care to make any provision against future contingencies, but had uniformly lived up to the extent of his income; consequently, when this privation came thus suddenly upon him, the utmost limit of his property, actually in possession, scarcely amounted to the sum of 1000l. Mr. Jerningham, on his reverse of fortune, quitted Norfolk, and took up his residence within a short distance of Cambridge; a former friend of his father's having procured for him a very respectable situation as classical tutor at an academy in that city. But the discharge of the incumbent duties proved irksome and harassing to a temper, already soured by the vicissitudes of fate, he grew negligent and inattentive, and often absented himself on no other plea than disinclination. In leaving Atherfield he had dissolved all his friendships, and separated himself from all his acquaintances; and he refused to form any new connexions in his new abode, confining himself exclusively to the society of his beloved wife and daughter. But Mr. Jerningham's mind was not formed to struggle with adversity; the rapid change from abounding affluence to comparative poverty, from cheerful and polished society, to solitude and seclusion, from being accustomed to dispense those benefits and advantages on others, which he might now, perhaps, have to crave for himself, pressed sorely on his spirits, and induced a morbid melancholy, which operating on his corporal frame, terminated his existence in a few years, leaving his widow and orphan in very indigent circum stances. A few years previous to this melancholy event, a lady, named Goodwin, who resided in the neighbourhood, having frequently, in her walks with her daughters, encountered Meliora, as she affectionately tended the faltering steps of her sick parent, charmed with the beauty, the grace, and the gentle deportment of this exemplary daughter, contrived to accomplish an introduction to the family. There was something in Meliora's air and aspect that was remarkably interesting and prepossessing: her's was such a countenance as an artist would have chosen as a study for his delineation of pity: no blooming rose mantled on her cheek, no laughing graces played around her lip; but the meekness and humility of her disposition shining with a soft radiance through her dark hazel eyes, the gently bending forward of her slight but symmetric figure, her finely formed head, somewhat inclined on the right side, communicated a mild pensiveness to her whole appearance, that was truly angelic. During Mr. Jerningham's last illness, Mrs. Goodwin's kindness was unremitted; and her penetration having discovered to her the impoverished state of his finances, she afforded to him, on his death-bed, the consolatory assurance, that Meliora and her mother should never want a home, nor a friend, so long as she possessed the ability to aid them, and, in consonance with this generous declaration, as soon as the father had breathed his last, she had his distracted wife and child removed to her own house, where every attention was rendered to their feelings, and every mild amusement resorted to, that might tend to mitigate their sorrow. It was about five weeks after this mournful occurrence, that Mrs. Goodwin, having received a letter from the Countess of Annesley, her old and intimate friend, communicated to Mrs. Jerningham the following portion of its con tents: "Will you, my dear madam, allow one of your little Hebes to come and spend a month in town? I have lost my good Beresford, and being under Halford's embargo not to stir out for this fortnight to come, am half expiring of ennui. Apropos, be so kind as to be on the look out for a female factotum for me; you know precisely what I want: she must be sweet-tempered, but not a simpleton; agreeable in her manners, without striving to appear so; genteel in her no |