when she brought the flowers to lay at her majesty's feet and I saw her, when the great lord of Leicester would have snatched a kiss from her and she flung him off, and bounded away like a startled fawn: - I saw her steal back to her father's cottage; and though she was told that the Queen herself had inquired for her, she would n't return to Kennilworth again till the pageant was all over.

And that's true, my boy-I've had it all from her father himself, who told her the Queen had inquired for her, as the rosebud of Warrickshire. But, what has all this to do with thy not being a gentleman ?

I don't know, father; but I don't like these gentlemen, that wear white gloves, and go fingering their way through the wilderness, afraid to wet their feet, afraid to laugh, and afraid to pray. I know she's a woman, father a grown woman; but what of that? I can't help thinking my chance would be better than that of any o' these gaudy popinjays - these gentlemen, forsooth-if I had but the courage to speak to her.

My poor silly boy!

Call me anything but a boy, father; I can't bear that. I have been a man ever since I first saw Anne Hathaway; she has never been out of my head since -I dream of her I go out and lie down underneath the old trees of the park, yonder, and look at the deer and the bright birds, till I drop asleep, and

then she always appears to me-just as I saw her at Kennilworth, blushing and courtesying and stammering, with all eyes wondering at her beauty — and then running off, with lord Leicester looking after her. Oh, but she's a rare girl! and with your leave, my dear father-now don't be angry, will ye?

Can't promise thee, my boy; thou 'lt make a fool o' thy father, yet mad as a March hare. Well, with my leave-why don't ye speak?

With your leave, (flinging both arms about his father's neck, and whispering in his ear)

-

What! (starting up, and laughing as if he would split himself.) What! Thou wilt marry Anne Hathaway-God's life! as her majesty saith-thou 'rt a precious fellow of thy inches! By my faith! I should like to hear thee pop the question. And here he burst forth into another obstreperous peal of laughter.

The boy looked astonished—mortified — grieved to the very heart: his color came and went― and there was a bright small dew upon his upper lip, which instantly disappeared, as if breathed upon by a blast from the desert.

Should you, father?said he at last, in replyshould you indeed?

Of a truth, should I.

Then go with me to her father's; for, so help me God! I'll put the question to her before I sleep! Boy or no boy, father — I'll know from her own lips, whether it is a lying spirit, or the awful instinct of

truth, which has kept me awake for long years, dreaming of that girl as my future companion — yea, father, as my future wife. Night and day have I dreamed of her year after year have I prayed for her-all that appears wonderful in my character or my language, or wild in my behavior-all that I know or wish to know- all my hopes and all my fears are connected with her. Why, Sir! It was but yesterday that I fell asleep, thinking of her, under the great oak by the river, there- and I dreamed a dream, father a dream that, awake or asleep, has haunted me for years.

The father stood awe-struck and breathless before him, waiting the issue. There was a sound of trumpets in the air, and he felt afraid of his own child.

Ay, father a dream; a dream of power; a prodigious dream! I tremble now to give it language. But I must. I saw palaces and thrones-and mighty men of war - and beautiful women: whole nations of both mustering at my voice, and crowding to hear me, as I stood alone and apart from all the rest of mankind, playing with a strange unearthly instrument in shape, like a human heart-which a spirit of grace left with me, one still, starry night, when I saw the skies rolling away forever, with no hand to stay them: the Universe asleep, and God watching over it. I stood upon the mountaintop. The foundations of the Earth were opened to me; and I saw gold there, and gems, like subterranean sunshine. Yea, father! and I saw the sepul

chres of the giants -the bones of many a forgotten Empire the skeleton of lost worlds the storehouses of the great Deep—and the abiding-place of perpetual fire and I lifted up my voice, and told the creatures of Earth what I saw, and they believed me not. And the winds blew, and the darkness drove by, like a midnight fog- and that generation was no Anon, another appeared — another, and yet another and at last, there were those that underAnd when I talked of soils, that, once whether by earthquake or fire-by storm or deluge-teem with the seed of empire with strange flowers, and stranger fruit, lieved me, though they understood me not.

more.

stood me. broken up

they be

Boy-boy! what's the matter with thee! what's thee stretching forth thy arms for, so wildly? what's thee reaching after - hey!

Was I, father!O, I had forgotten myself! I was wandering by the sea-shore, and plucking at the bright-haired, unapproachable creatures that drifted by me. I was wondering to see shadows upon the deepest and blackest midnight sky — a firmament of polished ebony; I was listening to Seas that thunder in their sleep from century to century.

Of a truth, my boy, it makes my heart ache to hear thee- no good will come of this, I am sure; and if anything should happen, there are those who will consider it a judgment upon thy poor old father, for trying to make a gentleman of thee.

And rightly enough too. Let God have his own way with the work of his own hands, father. If I am not to be a gentleman, I shall be something better, I hope; and if I am, why, God's will be done! that's all I have to say.

But, poetry is a beggarly trade, my boy; an' thee should n't betake thyself to that: and so is the making of speeches.

I know it, father and therefore I'll none of it! I am not without other and better resources. Boy though I am, I have learned something of human nature: I have learned to think for myself- and I have learned to disentangle the roots of error from the foundations of our strength to look upon the mighty of earth, even the mightiest, as the playthings of the multitude.

Have a care, boy! These are perilous thoughts: they should be smothered, like monsters - stifled in

the birth.

Smothered! stifled! I would as soon smother a child of my own begetting, as a thought worth preserving. Why should we stifle the princely offspring of our intellectual spirits? No, father; I know what mankind are and I know that we must be made of sterner stuff than others to communicate rather than to receive impressions. I have thought much of what we call the great of our day; and I have quite another idea of greatness, let me tell you, father. The men I call great, are men of rock. Dominion