how she describes the effects of love, when as yet she knows it only by report:- "It nerves the wearied mortal with hot life, And bathes his soul in hazy happiness. The richest man is poor who hath it not, And he who hath it laughs at poverty. It hath no conqueror. When Death himself Has worked his very worst, this love of theirs Lives still upon the loved one's memory. It is a strange enchantment, which invests The most unlovely things with loveliness. The maiden, fascinated by this spell, Sees everything as she would have it be. Her squalid cot becomes a princely home; Its stunted shrubs are groves of stately elms; The weedy brook that trickles past her door Is a broad river fringed with drooping trees; And, of all marvels the most marvellous, The coarse, unholy man who rules her love Is a bright being, pure as we are pure; Wise in his folly, blameless in his sin; The incarnation of a perfect soul; A great and even glorious demi-god!" When at length Selenè herself falls under the same great spell, the passion grows within her till it absorbs her whole being. Cheerfully she resigns her crown at the request of her discontented subjects, and, after a speech of exquisite pathos and generosity, places it on the head of her rival Darine. She will find her empire in the breast of Ethais. And though, when she discovers that she reigns not there, her anguish finds expression in reproachesnay, even in curses-she soon learns that she is loving still. "Forgive me, Ethais; thou hast withdrawn What love like this is worth-how far it is worth while to try and win it, the author leaves us to judge. It is enough to call our attention to the fact of its existence amongst us. new emotion, this is set forth. Too often do we seek in earthly love not merely Paradise, but Highest Heaven; and we need to be reminded that there is something even more excellent still: that we should be looking forward to a time when we may be-not fairies, indeed-but "as the angels which are in Heaven," and when we shall experience a love which will swallow up all other joys, and bring besides no cloud of sorrow in its train. We wish that we could congratulate Mr. Gilbert as much upon the strictly dramatic merits of his comedy, as upon its literary and didactic qualities; but in any case we sincerely hope that it may continue to be successful. I TIT FOR TAT. FROM THE PERSIAN. MET a maid on yon hillside, And she was fair to see"Give me a kiss, fair maid," I cried; "Give me a gift," said she. "A gift within a purse I have, The purse is in a pack; On my good charger's back. "And my good charger cometh not "And yet thou'dst have a kiss, good sir; But they are locked full fast, good sir- "And my good mother is not here, GORDON CAMPBELL. TOLD ROUND A NEW ZEALAND ALL the next day, Pat and Bill discussed the "treasure" question, and the more Pat heard, the more he was inclined to join in the venture; so much so, that I really bebelieve, before night, he was as anxious to start at once as Bill was. It was just the wild, risky sort of adventure to suit him; and from what Bill told us there did seem good reason for supposing there was some truth in the But Mr. Gilbert's philosophy goes yet deeper. He tells us in the prologue that one of his purposes is to prove that love itself-even such love as he paints-is "not a blessing, but a curse." He is not afraid to say so; for he knows that he has painted the picture in colours too brilliant to dulled by any sombre rays which he may choose to cast upon it. He puts forward no mere paradox, or groundwork for display of ingenuity. It is sought to show that even on the highest and noblest joys of earth the "trail of the serpent" is to be discerned. In the love of Darine, and the general disturbance introduced with the rumours. We remained all that day on the banks of the river Hinds, resting the cattle, and employed ourselves most of the time in col lecting, from out of the dry river-bed, "tutu" roots for firewood; so that by evening we had got a high pile of them for the night's use. These roots make a very pleasant, cheerful fire, but burn very quickly, so that a large quantity is required. So scarce is firewood in many parts of Canterbury, that tutu roots are dug and piled up to dry in stacks, and form the principal supply for cooking purposes. Coal, however, is more easily got than formerly, and is more generally used; but when the colony was young-that is to say, fifteen or twenty years ago-coal was very scarce, and I never remember having seen it used on a station, and very seldom in a dwelling-house, even in any of the towns. That night, lying on the grass round the fire as usual, we were told the following story of "How Charlie Stevens got his Station." HOW CHARLIE STEVENS GOT HIS STATION. In the year 1853, I was living on a station in Victoria, between the Campaspu and the Goulburn rivers, about ninety miles from Melbourne, and between twenty and thirty miles from Forest Creek diggings. During that year many new diggings were discovered; and amongst them MacIvor, or, as it is now called, Heathcote, was one of the most successful and lasting. The station that I was on was only some twelve miles from MacIvor, and I have often ridden in search of horses or cattle over the spot where there now stands a large and prosperous town. Little thought I then that under my horse's feet lay buried countless treasures-more than Bill is ever likely to find in his "diggings" on the Cocoa Islands -or that such a lovely, quiet spot would, in a few days, almost a few hours, be converted into such a perfect Babel as can only exist in a digging township. Shortly after MacIvor "broke out," my two eldest brothers determined to try their luck; and as it happened to be the slack time of the year-I think March was the month, but I am not certain-there was nothing to prevent their doing so. I was very anxious to go with them; but being too young-I was fourteen off-to dig, I had to content myself with extracting a promise that they would allow me to go and stay a week with them now and then; but that only on condition that I would make myself as useful as possible. You may guess how delighted and excited I was the first. time I went to stay with them. My brothers had got two other fellows as mates, and had a "claim" about a mile from the " camp," as the police tents were called. Their tent was not far from the mouth of the hole, close enough to guard against any one "jumping" their claim. "Jumping" was so common on MacIvor, that no matter how inconveniently situated your claim was, you could not put your tent too close to the mouth of the hole, unless you wished to find some "early worms busy washing your "stuff" for you, some morning when you came to work. "What on earth do you mean by 'jumping'?" asked Bill Walker. "Jumping 'is slang for taking possession of another party's claim," replied Stevens. And then resuming When I got to the diggings, I found my brothers had already found a bottom-that is to say, Bill, come to blue clay or rock, where the gold generally lies and had washed out some few ounces of gold. They were in high spirits, and said they thought they had hit on a good vein of gold; but told me to be very careful to say nothing about their luck; and if any one asked me how they were doing, to say they were earning grub, and nothing more. Every night they hid the proceeds of the day's work in a hole under the tent, excepting a very small quantity, which they sold to pay expenses with, and to keep others from being suspicious; for in those days a man who stuck to one claim for any length of time, and sold no gold, was always suspected of having got a "dollop," and ran a pretty nearly certain chance of being stuck up in his tent and robbed-lucky if he was not shot as well. Things went on this way for about six weeks, and "our party," as I will call it, had done remarkably well. My eldest brother, Harry, wished to send the gold by the gold escort to Melbourne; but to this the other three objected, on account of the expense, and advised making up a good strong escort of their own instead. It was, however, found impossible to get a sufficient number of men who could be depended on to form a private escort; so it was agreed to send all the gold they had by the next month's Government escort. It was fortu nate for them that they had delayed sending it; for that month's escort was robbed, and the gold all taken, of course. The bushrangers had put a lot of brushwood across the road, and hidden themselves on each side of the track amongst the scrub, so that the police could not see them. When the police came to the obstruction on the road, and stopped, the bushrangers fired at them, shooting one poor fellow dead and killing. the pack horses. The remainder of the police galloped back to the diggings, leaving the gold, and glad to get off so easily. This determined our party to keep their gold where it was, for a time, at least. This was a great mistake; for I have noticed that, after a more than usually open and bold robbery, such as that, was committed, things were quiet for some time on the diggingsperhaps because the bushrangers expected people to be more careful; but more likely the reason was that they found it wiser to go to fresh ground to work on, where the police would not be so much on the look out. About two months after this, I was staying with them again, and by hard persuasion had obtained permission to remain for a few weeks. My usual amusement was shooting ducks, pigeons, and parrots, or hunting kangaroos on the MacIvor hills. I used to get on my pony, Stumpy, a little chestnut, long, low, and very fast, and canter off to the Wild Duck Creek, which, as its name implies, was a famous place for ducks. Here I would tether Stumpy, and walk along the edge of the creek, shooting whatever came in my way. Sometimes I took my cattle dog, Tweed, with me, and went to the other side of the range to hunt kangaroos. My road, when I did this, was through what was at that time called the Lady's Pass, and up a creek, the name of which I have forgotten, on the banks of which stood a shepherd's hut. There I used to have a snack with the old hut-keeper, a poor old fellow who was quite mad, and not long out of the Yarra Bend, as the lunatic asylum in Melbourne is called. Poor George, his was a sad tale; but he has nothing to do with my story, so I need say no more about him now-some night I may give you his story as he told it to me. One day, after I had left old George's hut, and was slowly riding up a valley close by the hut, called the Splitter's Gully, I met a man on horseback, who stopped and asked me if I had seen any working bullocks. I told him where I had seen some, but he seemed in no hurry to go after them; and lighting his pipe, began to talk about the diggings; and after a little, asked me if I was the boy who was staying with Stevens's party. Pleased to let him know that I was connected with the diggings, I replied, "Yes." "I hear they are doing well, although it seems they don't care to send their gold down to Melbourne by the escort," he said, in a careless sort of way. True to my orders, I replied "They have not been earning much more than grub; and, only that they hope to do better, would have been off before now." "None of your gammon, young un -I know better than that. But you are right not to blab," he said. "I don't wonder at their not caring to trust their swag to that precious humbugging escort, after the nice mess they made of it; but if I had a lot of gold, I'm hanged if I'd keep it in my tent long, there are too many bushranging gentlemen about for that. Don't you think so?" Although he spoke so unconcernedly, I felt certain he was trying to pump me; so I thought the best thing to do was to pretend to let a little out, but to take care not to tell him the truth. I pretended to be astonished at what he said. "Keep gold in your tent!-well, I don't think the bushrangers would find much in our tent if they visited it. I suppose you know my brothers, from your speaking about them?" I inquired, well knowing he did nothing of the kind. "Well, now, I can't say as how I knows them exactly, but one of my mates does; he took some stores from Melbourne for them last year," he answered. This I knew to be false, for the station drays that took the wool down to Melbourne always returned loaded with our year's supply. However, I pretended to believe him; and seeing this, he proceeded to do a little more pumping. "Now, from what you chaps are doing, do you reckon it would pay a cove better to take a claim near you than to work his bullock team ?" He said this very quietly, and, had it not been for his cram about his mate, I should not have thought he meant more than he said. "I don't think you would earn much near us; and, if you really intend trying MacIvor, I'd advise you to go over to the other side, and get as near to Porter's claim as you can." Í said this to see what he would say, for it was well known at the diggings that Porter was doing well, and that he had two of the police constantly living in his tent as a guard. "I guess Porter's part of the diggings won't do for me," he said, bastily; and then, correcting himself, went on, "I mean I don't think there is another claim on that side worth having." hard to be allowed to remain, and my other brother, Jim, backed me up so well, that at last I was told I might stay if I promised that, in the event of anything taking place, I would keep quiet and not expose myself. I think the real reason I was not sent home was for fear I should talk about it there, and so frighten my mothers and sisters that my brothers would have to go home also. I was told to keep my eyes open, and if I saw anything unusual going on to let them know at once. For some days nothing unusual took place. Our new neighbours seemed to be just the common sort of digger-working hard all the week, and shooting, drinking, &c., on Sundays. After a good deal more talk of the same sort, he went off-taking, however, exactly the direction away from that in which I told him I had seen the bullocks. If I I used to wonder that accidents were not had hesitated before, this convinced me; more frequent on Sundays than they were. so, as soon as he was out of sight, I hurried | The usual amusement on Sunday afternoons back, and told my brothers all about it. was for every man who had a revolver-and They at once agreed there was something few were without one-to shoot at a mark, up, and took measures to guard against a which I must say was seldom hit, so that the sudden surprise. First of all, the gold was balls went whistling over it. This, on a removed from its hiding-place in the tent, crowded diggings, was very dangerous, one and a large hole was made half-way down would think; yet I never heard of any one the shaft of the claim, into which it was being shot. Then, when it was too dark for put, and carefully covered over. Every the continuation of this ball practice, the night a regular watch was kept, and all diggers assembled in some drinking-shop, slept with their revolvers loaded and placed where brandy, gin, or any other sort of under their heads. spirit-diggers are not particular-was consumed in enormous quantities, and fights became the order of the day, or rather night. These fights, in a crowded tent or shed, dimly lighted, and rendered still darker by dense clouds of tobacco smoke, usually ended in a general free fight, each man hitting any one he could, friend or foe-there was no distinction of any sort made. After this, the drunken men reeled home; and seeing that the holes were all left open, unprotected by any sort of fence, no roads, and no lights, the only wonder is that any of them ever reached their tents. It was perfectly astonishing how few accidents occurred. Of course, now and then a man would be found lying dead at the bottom of a shaft by the owners of a claim, when they went to work in the morning; but even this was rare. I think what saved them was, that most of them were too drunk to walk at all. Next day my friend sauntered into our tent, where I was, in free and easy digger fashion. "Well, matey," he said, "you see I aint long coming arter you. Me and my mates has got that there claim up there," pointing to an old deserted claim not many yards from ours, "as those duffers left; and I hopes as how we may share in with some of yourn luck." "If you don't get better luck than we have had, you won't stay long," I replied. "But you are in luck, anyhow, for you have just come in time for dinner; so I'll just go and call our fellows up." I went out, and as I was coming back I saw him, on his knees, examining the place where we had buried the gold. I took care to make plenty of noise, so as to let him know I was coming, and give him time to get out of his suspicious position, as I did not wish. him to know I had seen him. After he left, I told what I had seen. My brother Harry at once said I must go home, as he feared a row. This, however, I was equally anxious not to do; and begged so Our neighbours did not go in for the grogshop business; but used instead to have a good drunk in their own tent alone. I was going to say a quiet drunk; but that would be overstepping the bounds of truth, for a noisier lot there was not on the diggings; and we got very little sleep on a Sunday another. Their party, like ours, consisted of fourone, the man I have already mentioned, who was not much different from the usual style of digger; of the other three, two were rough, common-looking fellows, and evidently "old lags"-or convicts, Bill-and looked blackguards enough for anything in the way of crime. We saw little or nothing of them, as they seemed shy of showing their handsome faces; and with good reason, as we afterwards found out. The other was a young and very fine-looking fellow of about six and twenty, six feet high, good measure, broad-chested, wiry, and active, bright dark eyes, nearly black hair, no beard, but fine silky moustachios. It was a curious thing his shaving, as I believe he was the only man on the diggings who did so. Had he any reason for doing so? we often asked one another. He was a very pleasant fellow, and had seen a good deal of the world for so young a man, was well educated, and evidently a gentleman, from his manners and conversation. The only bad feature in his face was his mouth, which, although well-formed enough, had a cruel, hard expression at times. He never got drunk like his mates; but he could and did take his grog quite as freely as they did. Unlike them, however, he got calmer and more cautious when a bit screwed-drunk I don't think he ever was. Often, of an evening, he used to come and sit with us, and tell us yarns of California, wild tales of American Indians, whaling expeditions, and sometimes little incidents of his college life; making himself so pleasant, that in spite of our suspicions, I believe we were always glad to see his good-looking, merry face in our tent. He called himself Philip Clifford, but there was not much chance of that being his right name. Many gentlemen, as well as roughs, changed their names when they went digging. The others' names I have forgotten, excepting that they were called Angus (my friend), Sam, and Jack. It must have been about ten days after they came near us, that one morning a man was found lying dead-stabbed through the back-and robbed. No clue could be found to the murderer; but it made us more than ever watchful and vigilant. Two nights after this happened, Clifford came to our tent, and sat late, making himself more than usually pleasant. He seemed in high spirits, singing songs, and telling stories without end. He really was a very pleasant fellow--what is called "good com| pany," you know. Just before going away, he told us his party had found gold; and, judging from the appearance, there was plenty of it. I remember him saying "I think, my boys, we are on the same vein you are fast to; only as we are higher up, I guess we will have the pull of you yet." We all wished him good luck, and away he went to his tent, singing all the way. We felt more easy about our neighbours that night than we had done for a long time; and began to think we were wrong, and that they were genuine diggers after all, and that Angus had only pumped me to find out if it was worth their while to settle near us on the chance of sharing our luck. So strong was this opinion, that Jim proposed giving up watching at night; but to this the others would not agree, and well for them it was they did not. We had been asleep for an hour or two, when I was awakened by Harry, whose watch it was, quietly calling the others up. "What's the row?" muttered Jim, half asleep. "Be still," replied Harry, in a whisper. "I saw a light in Clifford's tent, but only for an instant, so perhaps it is all right. However, it is better for us to be on the lookout in case of anything going to Hush!" he said, still lower; "I hear feet outside the tent. Don't one of you move, but just get your revolvers ready. I'll fire at the first sign I see of any one coming into the hut, and if I miss, then we will each have a turn; but it is no use all firing at the same time.” I could now hear stealthy footsteps close by my head, and, though not frightened, I was very excited, and heard my heart beating loudly and fast. All remained quiet for some little time; but presently I heard again the footsteps, and then the breathing of a man within a few feet of me. I felt strongly inclined to speak, and tell Harry, and must, I |