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THE EVENING WIND.

BY W. Cc. BRYANT.

Spirit that breathest through my lattice, thou That cool’st the twilight of the sultry day,

Gratefully flows thy freshness round my brow ; Thou hast been out on the deep at play,

Riding all day their wild blue waves till now, . Zoughening their erests, and scattering high their

spray, And swelling the white sai]. I welcome thee T’o the scorch’d jand, thou wanderer of the sca!

Nor I alone ;—a thousand bosoms round Inhale thee in the fullness of delight; And languid forms rise up, and pulses bound Livelier, at coming of the wind at night; And, languishing to hear thy grateful sound, Lies the vast inland stretch’d beyond the sight, Go forth into the gathering shade; go forth, Goe’s blessing breathed upon the fainting earth ;

Go, rock the little wood-bird in his nest, Curl the still waters, bright with stars, and rouse

The wide old wood from his majestic rest, Summouing from the innumerable boughs

The strange deep harmonies that haunt his breast; Pleasant shall be-thy way where meekly bows

The shutting flower, and darkling waters pass,

And ’twixt the o’ershadowing branches and the grass,

The faint old man shall lean his silver head To feel] thee: thou shalt kiss the child asleep, And dry the moistened curls that overspread His temples, while his breathing grows more deep; And*they who stand about the sick man’s bed Shall joy to listen tothy distant sweep, And softly part his curtains to allow Thy visit, grateful to.his burning brow.

Go; but the circle of eternal change, That is the life of ncture, shall restore, With sounds and scents from all the mighty range, Thee to the birth place of the deep once more, Sweet odours in the sea air, siveet and strange, Shall tell the home-sick mariner of the shore ; And, listening to the murmur, he shall deem le hears the rustling leaf and running stream.

THE TREASURE. A TALE.

in the upper. apartment:of an old-fashioned Bouse ix Paris were seated an-old man and a young girl, whose appearance corresponded with the aspect of their habi- tation; fer in beth were alike visible a certain air of neatness and good taste, which can embellish even poverty itself and give an.air of elegance tothe lowliest abode. Everything was.in its place; the brick floor was carefully scrubbed ;,the faded green tapestry was free from every stain; andthe windows were furnished with coarse curtains of white muslin, so thickly covered with, darns, that it almost bore the appearance of em- vroidery. A. few flower-pots stood outside the open window, and. perfumed the room with. their frayrance.

The sun was. about to set, a purple light illuminated ‘ne humble dweiling, glancing on the-fresh bright coun- tenance of the young-maiden, and playing around the white hairs of the aged: man, — This latter was reclining qa rush-woven arm-chair, which a careful and loving oand.hed furnished with cushions, carefully stuffed with ‘ow, and covered with patched chintz. His mutilated

mbs rested upen an old chaufé-pied,* converted into a! Stee ‘ai : he ” | orsevering 3sn s 2 . stocl, and his enly remaining arm rested ona smal], to ‘persevering industry, but thistis no‘easy matter:

‘able, on which lay an amber pipe.2nd a tobacco. case,

embroidered with coloured beads.

The old. soldier had one of those bold and furrowed:

countenances. whose roughness is tempered by its frank and Sind expression. A gray moustache concealed his oait-parted lips, es he fixed his eye with an waconseious mile upea the young girl, She was about twenty

‘ (ears of age; a brunette, in whose winning and flexible

‘eatures every passing emotion was portrayed. She veld in her hand a newspaper, which she was reading oud to the old man, Suddenly she stopped, and seemed to.listen. i

“What do you hear? inquired the invalid.

’ Nothing,’ replied the young girl, while her counte- nance was expressive of disappointment.

You. thought you heard Charles 2 inquired the sol-

hd test a.

‘it ig true that T fancied so, replied his: young com-

~vamon, slightly colouring ; * his day’s. work. must: be

‘snished, and this is his hour for returning.’

When he-dves return,’ remarked Vineent ina tone

ui Vexation.

Susan wasonthe point of seeking tojustify her cousin, cat her judgment was. doubtless opposed to the attempt, or she-stopped.short, looked embarrassed, and then. fell upto.a reverie,

The-invalid soldier passed. his hand. across his mous-

4 UX: sfoyvato: toe ‘er

THE EXAMINER.

tache, and twisted it impatiently, his usual gesture when anything annoyed him.

‘Our young conscript is making a bad campaign of it, he at length began. ‘ He returns here out of humour; he leaves his work to frequent taverns and the race- course: all that will end badly both for him and us,’

‘Oh do not say so, uncle! You will bring him ill luck,’ replied the young girl in a tone of deep emotion. ‘Lhope itis only a moment of delusion, which will quickly pass away. For some time past, my cousin has got some strange notions into his head, and he has not the heart to work,’

‘And why so, pray ”

* Because he says he can’t expect to better himself by his labour. He thinks that an artisan, let him work ever so hard, can have nothing to hope for the future, and therefore deems it best to live merely for the pre- sent hour, without carefulness, and without hope.’

‘Al! so that is his system, is it?’ replied the old man, knitting his brows, ‘ Well, the honour of inventing it does not belong to him. We had also in our regiment reasoners ofthat kind, who gladly avoided marchin with their comrades beeause the way was so long, an who dragged on their dull existence in the depots, while their companies were taking possession of Madrid, afid Vienna, Your cousin, you see, does not seem to be aware that by putting one foot before tlie other, even the shortest legs will get to Rome at last!’

‘Ah, ifyou-could only get him to be of that opinion!” exclaimed Susan with anxious earnestness. ‘I have often tried to change his mind by reckoning up-how much a good bookbinder such as he is might economise; but when [ come to the total, he shrugs his shoulders, and says that women understand nothing about calcu- lations.

‘And so I suppose you gave up the matter in despair, my poor child?’ said Vincent, looking at her with a smile of mingled-sadness and affection. ‘1 see now why your eyes are so often red’———

‘ My uncle, I assure you’——

‘What makes you so often forget to wateryour gilly- flowers, or to sing your merry songs’

‘My uncle’———

Susan looked down as if corfused, and twisted the corner of the paper. The old soldier laid his hand affectionately on her head—‘ Come, then; I do believe she thinks I am going to scold her, he continued in a tone of, brusque kindness. ‘Isn’t it quite natura] that you should be interested about Charles, who is now your cousin, and who one day, I hope’

The young girl made a sudden movement.

‘Well; well; no, we won’t talk any more about that,’ said the veteran, checking himself—* we wont talk any more of that just now. But let us speak a little about this. gocd-for-nothing boy, for whom you feel some Jriendship—that is the proper word, [ think—and who on his side, feela kindly towards you.’

Susan shook her head. ‘He used to do 30 in former days,’ said she; ‘but for some time past, if you knew! how cold he seems, how indifferent to me.’

‘Yes,’ remarked Vincent pensively, ‘when one has once partaken of exciting amusements, the pleasures of home appear insipid: it is like drinking. home-made wine after cherry brandy ; one can understand that, my child ; many of us know that by experience.’

‘ But they have been cured,’ observed Susan; ‘there- fore Charles may be so too, Perheps your speaking to} him, uncle, might do him good.’ |

The old man shook his head doubtfully, “Such faults.as his are not cared by a few words, my child— acis are necessary. A man can no more be suddenly

ceived of Lefevre ; but now at length his relations haye received a letter announcing his approaching return. It informs them that the ct-devant pedlar, after endating unheard of fatigues, and incredible change of fortune

had arrived in France blind of one eye and short of an arm, but the possessor of riches valued at two millions of francs.’

Charles, who had listened to this article with growing interest, could not suppress an exclamation of surprise —*T wo millions!’

‘They will serve to buy him a glass. eye and a cork leg.’ ironically observed the old soldier.

‘There is good fortune for you!’ continued the youns workman, without heeding his uncle’s remark. n

‘And which it cost him a good deal to obtain, added the veteran.

‘Eighteen years of unheard-of fatigues! repeated Sasan, dwelling upon the words of the paper.

‘What matter, when a fortune was in view!” replied Charles eagerly. ‘ The difficulty does not lie either in travelling over a bad road, or in encountering stormy weather to reach a good shelter, but in having to walk on with nothing in prospect at the end of our journey.’

* And so,’ continued the young girl, timidly raising her eyes towards her cousin‘ so you envy this pedlar’s lot. You would give all your youthful years, one of your eyes, one of your hands’——

‘For two millions?’ interrupted Charles; ‘most as- suredly. You have only to find mea purchaser, Susan,

t this price, and I will engage to give you a portion or pin-money.’

The young girl made no reply, but turned away her head; her heart was heavy, and a tear trembled in her eye. Vincent also was silent; bat he had agai begun to twist his moustache with a morose air. There was a long silence, ae

Each of the three actors in this scene was engaged in pursuing a peculiar train of thought. The sound of the clock striking eight aroused Susan from her reverie. She rose hastily, and began to lay the cloth: for their evening repast. It was a short and gloomy one. Charles, who had passed the latter part of the afternoon ina tavern with his friends, would eat nothing, and poo Susan had lost her appetite. Vincent alone did honour to the fragal repast; forthe hardships of war had ac- customed him to maintain the privil of kis stomach in the midst of the most trying scenes. But his hunger was quickly appeased, and he returned to his arm-chair near the window. Susan, who longed to feel herself elone, soon put everything back into its place, took a Light, kissed the old man, and retired to her little cham- ber overhead. Vincent and his nephew were left tete- a-tete ; and the latter was also’preparing to take his leave, when the old soldier made a sign te him to shat the door, and to come nearer to him.

‘J want to speak to you,’ said he, seriously.

Charles, who expected to receive some reproaches tur his late conduct, remained standing before the old man, but the latter made him a sign tosit down.

‘Have you reflected well on the words which you spoke a few minutes ago?’ he inquired, looking fixediy at his newphew. ‘Would you really be capable of making a long and sustained effort in order to gain a fortune?

‘I!—Can you doubt it, uncle?’ replied Charles, sur- prised at the question.

‘Then you would consent to labour patiently, to work without intermission, to change all your habits 7

‘If my doing so would accomplish any purpose— Yes. Bat why do you make the inquiry ?

‘You shall be made acquainted with my reasons,”

transformed into a reasonable being, than into a good|said the veteran, opening the drawer of a little escritoir,

soldier: he requires exercise, experience, fatigue; he must learn his business at the cannon’s mouth. Your

in which he kept the old newspapers which were lent to him by one of his fellow-lodgers. He searched

cousin, you see, is deficient in will, because he.does not!some time amongst them, and at last took out one, in

see before him any object to be attained. The great

did not feel himself obliged to speak ; so, without salut-

thing would be to find one which would stimulate him

however, I will think about it.’

‘It is he this time!’ exclaimed Susan, who had re- cognised the hurried steps of her cousin as he ascended the stairs.

‘Silence, then,’ said the vetern; ‘we must not seem

Susan obeyed; but the tremulousness of her voice would quickly have betrayed her emotion to the ears of an aitentive observer. Whilst her eyes rested on the printed charactess before her, and her lips mechanically pronounced the written words, her thoughts were ab- sorbed by her cousin, who had just then entered the room. As the reading continued, the young workman

ing either his uncle or cousin, he went over to the window, and stood leaning against it with folded arms.

Susan went on reading, without understanding a word she said. She came to that series of unconnected facts which are always to be found under the head of‘ Va-| rieties” Charles, who had at first appeared distrait,| ended by listening, almost in spite of himself.

The young.girl, after reading a list of robberies, fires, and accidents of divers kinds, came to the following article:—* A poor pedlar of Besancon, named Peter Lefevre, resolving to make a fortune at any cost, con- ceived the idea of setting out for India, which he had heard: spoken of as the land of gold and of diamonds.

jand embarkedkas cock’s aseistant in an American ship.

He sold what little he possessed, reached Bordeaux,

Eighteen pears wassed away, -andino 'tidines were re-|

which he pointed out to ‘Charles an article which he hac marked,

The young man read it half aloud. ‘Some steps have lately been taken with the Spanish government for the recovery of a treasure buried on the banks of the Douro after the battle ef Salamanca. It would appear that in the course of this famous retreat, a company belonging to the first division, to whom the charge of

to have-been talking abeut him, so go on reading to me.’|several tumbrils had been committed, was separated

from the main body of the army, and surrounded by « force-so superior to themselves, that any attempt at resistance would have been in vain. The commanding officer, seeing that no hope renmined of being able to cut his way through the opposing forces, took advan- tage of the darkness of the night to have the tumbril= buried in the earth by some of his soldiers in whom ive reposed implicit confidence, then, feeling assured that no one would be abie to discover them, he ordered his little band to disperse, so ghat they mighteach separate - ly endeavour to escape through the lines of the enem:

Some few had the good fortune to succeed in rejoininy their division; but the commanding officer, as we}l a»

jall the men who knew where the tumbrils had been

concealed, ‘perished in the attempt. Now it hag beer positively affirmed that in these tumbrils were containe: the money required for the expenses of the whole im vading army—namely, a sum of about three millions.

Charles paused: his eyes sparkled with delight; anc he looked inquiringly at the veteran, ‘Were you one of that company ” he exclaimed,

‘f was,’ replied the soldier.

‘You know of the ‘existence of this depot '

‘Twas ong of these-cvhorn “the cavtain changed %

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