TO THE MOURNERS.

WEEP not for him! He is gone to his rest Before the first bloom of his manhood has faded,

A lover beloved, with a happiness blest
No envious cloud for a moment has shaded;

Gone ere the years could afflict with the pain Of hopes unfulfilled, aspirations that languish,

With the struggle and stress of an overtasked brain,

With bereavements that wring the lone bosom with anguish;

Gone with the love of all those he held dear, No blot on his scutcheon, no slur on his station;

Whate'er be the loss, oh, how blest is the bier That's bedewed with the tears of a sorrowing nation!

Weep not for him! He has answered the call

To the haven we sigh for, the worn and the weary,

Where the secrets no longer are secrets of all That baffles our longings, our questionings dreary.

There are many that weep, and many that

AT STE. SCHOLASTIQUE. THE faint warm glimpse of an olive cheek We catch in the light of the evening sun At a casement in Ste. Scholastique. By a profile perfect if hardly Greek

We are not alone dismay'd, undone
The faint warm glimpse of an olive cheek,
Do other travellers wistfully seek,

And scholars some terrible risks have run 'Neath a casement in Ste. Scholastique. The tint is so rich- the hair so sleek!

As the curtains move, the glimpse is won, The faint warm glimpse of an olive cheek! Can it be, as they say, that in less than a week

That black-hair'd nymph will pose as a nun At a casement in Ste. Scholastique?

That Nanon will merge into Marie meek?
If so, pass on, and devoutly shun
The faint warm glimpse of an olive cheek
At a casement in Ste. Scholastique.

MIRABEAU. I.

From Temple Bar.

THE greatest event of modern history is the French Revolution, and Mirabeau is its great man. If the names of Robespierre, Danton, and Marat have taken the place of his in the popular mind, this is because it is not the sweeping away of abuses and the clearing of the ground for representative government, but rather the scenes of bloodstained anarchy which followed that are generally thought of as the Revolution.

marchand de police just as the bishop was marchand d'eau bénite.

The Mirabeaus were at once unruly, headstrong individuals, and loyal subjects; they fought stoutly for their king, but were not adepts in the arts of courtiership.

Four several Mirabeaus opened the gates of Marseille to four French sovereigns. On the other hand, Bruno, Comte de Mirabeau, pursues a court official into the presence of the king and then resists arrest. The same Bruno, on the occasion of the inauguration of the statue of Louis XIV., stops and salutes that of Henri IV., exclaiming: "Mes amis, saluons celui-ci ;

noceros yoked in carriage gear!"

Altogether apart, however, from his importance in the history of the world, Mirabeau is interesting as the hero of a romance; for his life was one of the most eventful that have ever been lived. The story of his family would form a fine subject for an epic poem; here we must only sketch it briefly in sober prose.

The Mirabeaus were Riquettis by surname; for, like others of the great men of France-Rousseau, Napoleon, Victor Hugo, Gambetta - Mirabeau was not a Frenchman by extraction. The Arrighetti were driven out of Florence in 1267 by the Guelf faction and settled in Provence. They found the country congenial, and early acquired a leading position in the province. In the sixteenth century a Riquetti became first consul of the great semi-independent city of Marseille; and probably through success in commercial enterprise was enabled to acquire the lands from which the family took their title.

Of him it is related that when twitted by a bishop with his commercial pursuits, he replied that though nobly born he was

The grandfather of the revolutionary hero was not the least notable of his race. He went by the name of Col d'Argent, or Silver Stock. He was a protégé — so far as a Mirabeau could be such-of Vendôme; and came by his strange sobriquet in the following manner. In the battle of Casano his jugular vein was cut asunder by a bullet, and he had ever afterwards to wear a silver stock to keep his head erect. Vendôme, seeing his line broken, had exclaimed, "Mirabeau is dead then;" but in spite of his twenty-seven wounds the warrior lived to become the father of Marquis Mirabeau, "the Friend of Man." This Jean Antoine de Riquetti displayed the same mixture of intrepidity and want of courtierly art as his forbears. Being presented by his friend the marshal to the Grand Monarque with commendation of his military achievements, he somewhat disconcerted both king and marshal by declaring that had he come up to court and bribed some woman he would have had his promotion and fewer wounds that day.

We next come to Victor, Marquis de Mirabeau, the father of our hero, the influence of whose character and personality on his son is very important. He differs from the bulk of his ancestors in that he presents the figure rather of a man of letters than of a man of war. As a noble he had of course to see some military service in his earlier years; but he felt that it was not his métier. When scarcely twentytwo he began his economical studies; and

after resigning his commission, left his home in Provence for the neighborhood of Paris in order to follow out his chosen career. He pursued it for no less than forty-nine years, becoming one of the leading physiocrats, whose leader was Quesnay, and their chief doctrine that the land as the sole source of wealth should be freed from feudal burdens. In his capacity as writer the Marquis de Mirabeau had a wide circle of admirers, which included the grand duke of Tuscany (afterwards Emperor Leopold II.); Stanislaus Augustus, titular king of Poland, and Gustavus III. of Sweden; while Choiseul, Maurepas, and Malesherbes were his intimate friends.

The dauphin, father of Louis XVI., was so struck with “L'Ami des Hommes," the book which gave to the marquis the name by which he is best known to posterity, and which he declared he knew by heart, that he offered him the place of assistant governor to his son. The marquis, however, declined anything less than a complete responsibility.

The character of his father and the circumstances of his early life being, as we said, important factors in the life of Mirabeau, it will be well to dwell on them in some detail.

the bailli: "Your nephew is as ugly as if he were Satan's."

Of this ugliness, a new thing among the Mirabeaus, our hero, like John Wilkes, was afterwards quite proud. It is satisfactory to learn that all the younger members of the family were vaccinated.

But to return to our infant prodigy, whose education was begun without delay. We soon hear of him, "On parle de son savoir dans tout Paris;" and again, “Il donne de l'occupation, mais nous le guettons, et il est dans des mains excellentes." The child was only five years old.

The uncle writes to his brother to thank M. Poisson for the education he is giving to this marmot of five; and hopes that he will be able to develop in him qualities which will cause to tremble before him, "cette race de pygmées qui jouent les grands à la cour "the aspiration of a true Mirabeau, and one that was not to remain unfulfilled. In the same year we have M. Poisson putting his pupil to the proof by making him give himself a lesson. Bidden to put down what came into his head, the child writes:

"Monsieur Moi, je vous prie de prendre attention à votre écriture, et de ne pas faire de pâtés sur votre exemple [not to make blots on your exercise]; d'être at tentif à ce qu'on fait, obéir à son père, à son maître, à sa mère, ne point contrarier. Point de détours, de l'honneur surtout. N'attaquez personne, hors qu'on ne vous

point méchant avec les domestiques, ne familiarisez pas avec eux; cacher les défauts de son prochain, parce que cela peut arriver à soi-même."

It is difficult to look upon this as simply an extraordinary effort of memory; one cannot but recognize in it the receptiveness of genius.