ion, that fair as they were,
tender, and loving, graceful, accomplished, delicate and noble-minded,
he could have borne to lay them both in the cold grave, so that a son
could be given to the house, in exchange for their lost loveliness.

In outward demeanor, however, he was to his children all that a father
should be; a little querulous at times, perhaps, and irritable, but
fond, though not doting, and considerate; and I have wandered greatly
from my intention, if any thing that I have said has been construed to
signify that there existed the slightest estrangement between the
father and his children--for had Allan Fitz-Henry but suspected the
possibility of such a thing, he had torn the false pride, like a
venomous weed, from his heart, and had been a wiser and a happier man.
In his case it was the blindness of the heart that caused its partial
hardness; but events were at hand, that should flood it with the
clearest light, and melt it to more than woman's tenderness.

[_To be continued._

SONNET TO GRAHAM.

On, in thy mission! 'T is a holy power
That which thou wieldest o'er a people's heart:
And wastes of mind, that never knew a flower,
Bloom now and brighten, 'neath thy magic art.
Hearthstones are cheerful that were chill before;
And softened beams, like light that melteth through
The stained glass of old cathedrals, pour
Stream upon stream of beauty. All that's true,
All that is brave and beautiful, 't is thine--
High office, high and holy! thus to shed,
Sun-like, and sole, in shadow or in shine,
Thoughts that bedew and rouse minds cold and dead,
Startling the pulse that stirred not. This is thine!
Be proudly humble: 't is a power divine!

_New Orleans, October_ 1, 1847. ALTUS.

MARGINALIA

BY EDGAR A. POE.

We mere men of the world, with no principle--a very old-fashioned and
cumbersome thing--should be on our guard lest, fancying him on his
last legs, we insult, or otherwise maltreat some poor devil of a
genius at the very instant of his putting his foot on the top round of
his ladder of triumph. It is a common trick with these fellows, when
on the point of attaining some long-cherished end, to sink themselves
into the deepest possible abyss of seeming despair, for no other
purpose than that of increasing the space of success through which
they have made up their minds immediately to soar.

* * * * *

All that the man of genius demands for h