em
assurance of a happy future. May we not hope that the effect we have
attributed to the Christ Church chimes is not a solitary instance of
the power of music?

THE POLISH SLAVE.

Gayly opened the bright summer morning on the gray feudal turrets of
Castle Tekeli, the residence of the old Count Alexis Tekeli, that
crowned a rocky eminence, and was embosomed in the deep secular
forests of Lithuania. The court yard was a scene of joyous noise and
gay confusion; for the whole household was mustering for the chase.
Half a dozen horses, gaily caparisoned, were neighing, snorting, and
pawing the ground with hot impatience; a pack of stanch hounds, with
difficulty restrained by the huntsmen, mingled their voices with the
neighing of the steeds, while the slaves and relatives of the family
were all busy in preparation for the day's sport.

Count Alexis was the first in the saddle; aged, but hale and vigorous,
he was alert and active as a young man of five-and-twenty.

"Where are my daughters?" he exclaimed, impatiently, as he drew on his
buff gantlets. "The sun is mounting apace, and we should not lose the
best portion of the day."

As if in reply to his question, a tall, dark-haired girl, of elegant
figure and stately bearing, appeared by his side, and with the
assistance of a groom, mounted her prancing gray palfrey.

"This is well, Anna," said the count. "But where is Eudocia? She must
not keep us waiting."

"Eudocia declines to be of our party, father," replied the girl.

"Pshaw!" said the old man; "she will never have your color in her
cheeks, if she persist in moping in her chamber, reading old legends
and missals, and the rhymes of worthless minnesingers. But let her go;
I have one daughter who can live with the hunt, and see the boar at
bay without flinching. Sound, bugle, and forward!"

Amid the ringing of silver curb chains, the baying of hounds, and the
enlivening notes of the bugle, the cavalcade and the train of footmen
swept out of the court yard, and descending the winding path, plunged
into the heart of the primeval forest. The dogs and the beaters darted
into the thick copsewood, and soon the shouts of the huntsmen and the
fierce bay of the dogs announced that a wild boar had been found and
started. On dashed the merry company, Count Alexis leading on the
spur. The lady Anna soon found herself alone, but she pressed her
palfrey in the direction of the sounds of the chase as they receded in
t