the same kind as those which composed the former nosegay he named correctly. At an early stage of instruction, he exhibited a great love of order, and was extremely obedient. In short, he in less than a year became nearly reconciled to his new position, and was allowed to go about with little restraint.

On Saturday, 17th October, Caspar was the subject of an extraordinary and nearly fatal event. He was accustomed, daily between eleven and twelve, to leave Professor Daumer's house to attend a ciphering class; but on the above day, not feeling well, he was desired to remain at home, while his host went out to take a walk. A little after twelve, Daumer's sister was sweeping the house, when she observed on the stairs several spots of blood and bloody footsteps. These marks she traced along the passage to a closet, and there, to her horror, beheld a large quantity of clotted blood. She instantly called her mother. In great alarm, they sought Caspar in his chamber, but he was not to be found either there or in any other part of the house. The marks of blood being more carefully traced, were found to lead to a cellar door. This was opened, and after a time Caspar was found within, to all appearance dead, with a large wound across his forehead. The servant-maid and the son of the landlord had now joined them, and Caspar was removed to his chamber. He appeared to breathe, and presently gave a deep groan, saying with difficulty: 'Man! man!-mother tell professorcloset; he could say no more, for he was seized with a strong ague; after which he lay senseless for forty-eight hours. In his delirium, he murmured at various times: Man came !-don't kill me-I love all men-do no one anything. Man, I love you toodon't kill-why man kill?' He was assiduously attended by the medical officer of the city jurisdiction, and under his hands gradually recovered. When strong enough, the judicial authorities caused him to be examined as to his misfortune. From his deposition,* it appears that, while in the closet, to which he had occasion to retire, he heard footsteps softly treading the passage, and presently the head of a person masked appeared. In an instant he received a severe blow on the forehead, which felled him to the ground: he fainted, and did not completely recover his senses till found in the cellar. How he got there, he was unable to remember correctly, but thought that he must have been left for dead; and, coming to a sort of half-consciousness, had crawled thither, partly from fright, and partly from having mistaken his way to Mrs Daumer's chamber.

This new circumstance redoubled public curiosity respecting Hauser. Some deep and diabolical mystery hung over him. It was evident that those who sent him to Nuremberg had been disappointed in his not becoming at once absorbed in the ranks of the

It may be well to observe, that all the depositions respecting this extraordinary case are still preserved in the police-court of Nuremberg.

army, and were afraid lest the attention of the public which he had excited would lead to the discovery of his origin. To prevent this, his murder must have been planned and attempted. These machinations were, however, on this occasion frustrated, for the wound was not so serious as to prevent his complete recovery. He resumed his studies, and pursued them with so much success, that he was not to be known in company from any other young man who had been brought up under ordinary circumstances. His temper was good, and his manners gentle and amiable.

While with Professor Daumer, he became an object of great interest to Earl Stanhope, who wished to have the entire charge and expense of his future education. With this view, Caspar was removed by that nobleman to Anspach, and put under the care of an able schoolmaster. After a time, he was found competent to undertake an official situation, and he received the appointment of clerk in the registrar's office of the Court of Appeal. It was Lord Stanhope's plan to accustom him, whilst filling this situation, to the ordinary business of life; with the view of bringing him eventually to England, and of adopting him as his foster-son. But unhappily these benevolent intentions were frustrated, for the same mystery which shrouded his birth hung over his death. On the 14th of December 1833, Caspar Hauser, while returning from his official duties at mid-day, was accosted in the streets by a person who promised to impart to him the secret of his origin, if he would meet him in the park of Anspach Castle. Without informing his protectors of this circumstance, Hauser imprudently kept the appointment. The stranger was at his post; he took Caspar aside, and, without speaking a word, plunged a dagger into his breast, and instantly disappeared. Hauser had sufficient strength left to reach the residence of his new tutor, into whose apartment he rushed, and had just breath enough to utter two or three indistinct words, when he immediately fainted, and, after relating the circumstances of his assassination, died on the 17th of the same month. Every expedient which the police could invent was adopted to discover the murderer, but without success. The secret, which it cost so much crime to preserve, has not yet been divulged.

This history is so strange and mysterious, that its authenticity would be open to many doubts, but for the unquestionable respectability of our informant, and the notoriety of the facts at the time.

16

B

'Not a flower

But shews some touch, in freckle, streak, or stain,

Of His unrivalled pencil. He inspires

Their balmy odours, and imparts their hues,

And bathes their eyes with nectar, and includes,

In grains as countless as the sea-side sands,

The forms with which He sprinkles all the earth.

Happy who walks with Him! whom what he finds
Of flavour or of scent in fruit or flower,

Or what he views of beautiful or grand

In nature, from the broad majestic oak

To the green blade that twinkles in the sun,

Prompts with remembrance of a present God.'-CoWPER.

WILD-FLOWERS.

EAUTIFUL children of the woods and fields !

That bloom by mountain streamlets 'mid the heather,
Or into clusters 'neath the hazels gather-

Or where by hoary rocks you make your bields,

And sweetly flourish on through summer weather-
I love ye all!

Beautiful flowers! to me ye fresher seem
From the Almighty hand that fashioned all,
Than those that flourish by a garden-wall;
And I can image you, as in a dream,

Fair, modest maidens, nursed in hamlets small-
I love ye all !

Beautiful gems! that on the brow of earth
Are fixed as in a queenly diadem:

Though lowly ye, and most without a name,
Young hearts rejoice to see your buds come forth,
As light erewhile into the world came-

I love ye all!

Beautiful things ye are, where'er ye grow!

The wild red rose-the speedwell's peeping eyes—
Our own blue-bell-the daisy, that doth rise
Wherever sunbeams fall or winds do blow;

And thousands more, of blessed forms and dyes-
I love ye all!

Beautiful nurslings of the early dew!

Fanned in your loveliness by every breeze,
And shaded o'er by green and arching trees:

I often wish that I were one of you,

Dwelling afar upon the grassy leas

I love ye all!

Beautiful watchers! day and night ye wake!
The evening-star grows dim and fades away,
And morning comes and goes, and then the day
Within the arms of night its rest doth take;
But ye are watchful wheresoe'er we stray-
I love ye all!

Beautiful objects of the wild-bee's love!
The wild-bird joys your opening bloom to see,
And in your native woods and wilds to be.
All hearts, to Nature true, ye strangely move;
Ye are so passing fair-so passing free-

I love ye all!

Beautiful.children of the glen and dell-
The dingle deep-the moorland stretching wide,
And of the mossy fountain's sedgy side!

Ye o'er my heart have thrown a lovesome spell;
And though the worldling, scorning, may deride-
I love ye all!

-NICOLL

LET US GO TO THE WOODS.

LET us go to the woods-'tis a bright sunny day:

They are mowing the grass, and at work with the hay.
Come over the meadow and scent the fresh air,

For the pure mountain breezes are everywhere.

We'll follow this winding path up to the hills,
And spring with a lightsome foot over the rills.
Up, up!-it grows sweeter the higher we get,
With the flowers of the season that linger here yet.
Nay, pause not to gaze at the landscape now;
It is finer when seen from the high hill's brow.
We will gather all curious flowers as we go;

The sweet and the scentless, and those that bend low;
The pale and the gaudy, the tiny, the tall,

From the vine, from the shrub, we will gather them all.

Now here's the Clematis, all graceful and fair;
You may set it like pearls in the folds of your hair.
And if for your bosom you'd have a bouquet,

Here's the Meadow-pink sweet, and the Touch-me-not gay.
Here's the full-blown Azalea, perfuming the air,

Here's the Cardinal-flower, that a princess might wear.
And the wild mountain Phlox, pink and purple and blue,
And Star-flowers both of white and of golden hue.
And here's a bright blossom, a gay one indeed,
Our mountain-maids name it the Butterfly-weed;
So gorgeous its colours, one scarcely can tell
If the flower or the insect in beauty excel.

Here's the low dwarf Acacia, that droops as it grows,
And its leaves, as you gather them, tremble and close.
And near us, I know by her breath on the gale,
Is the tall yellow Primrose, so pretty and pale.

Here's the Pigeon-pea, fit for a fairy's bowers,

And the purple Thrift, straightest and primmest of flowers.
Here is Privet, no prettier shrub have we met;
And the Midsummer-daisy is hiding here yet.

But stay-we are now on the high hill's brow!
How bright lie the fields in the sunlight below!

Do you see those white chimneys that peep o'er the grove?
'Tis your own little cottage, the home that you love:
Let us go by the fields where the Chinquapins are,
And through the long lane where the Chestnuts hang fair,
They are scarcely yet ripe, but their tender green
Looks lovely the dark clustering foliage between :
And we'll stop at the nest that we found in the wood,
And see if the blackbird hath flown with her brood:
And we'll list to the mocking-bird, wondering thereat,
Till he pauses, as if to ask: Who can do that?'
We will listen and gaze, for the lowliest thing
Some lesson of worth to the mind can bring.