"Love me!" exclaimed the astonished man of God, starting as if he had trodden on an adder; "love me, saidst thou?" and covering his face with his robe, turned from the hapless maiden in mute horror. Kathleen still continued kneeling, and with clasped hands, quivering lip, and colourless cheek, fervently implored his forgiveness, and plead ed for pity on her lost condition.

"Away, guilty maid, ye know not what ye say; away, and by fasting and repentance, blot from thy sinful heart the guilty passion." Kathleen, weeping bitterly, said,

"Holy father, hide not thy face from me, but with thine eyes and lips pronounce my forgiveness."

"Kathleen," replied the saint, " thou child of sin and sorrow, when thou canst come to the confessional and say with truth, that thy heart no longer burns with this unholy fire, but is cleansed of this guilty and most pernicious passion, I will pardon thee; till then, avoid my presence, nor come again to the sanctuary to profane it with thy sinful tears."

Kathleen arose from her kneeling posture, abashed and humbled, but, alas! not reformed. Her excessive grief on her return to Clohoge was observed by her doting parents, who wondered at the sorrow of their child; and Cormack O'Donnel, her father, with that tact peculiar to the Irish as well as to the French nàtion, retired from the cabin to the fields, to give the mother of the fair

questioning the lovely maiden on the cause of her sorrow.

"Kathleen, darling, what ails ye now?-has aught happened to grieve my child-what is it? speak, that I, your mother, may comfort ye." "Nothing," said she in a plaintive tone and weeping afresh.

"Nothing!" said the affectionate Mora, "Ah! Kathleen, I fear Dermid has been unkind to ye-what. has he done to sorrow my pet lamb?"

"Nothing." Mora wept, for she feared her child's reason was impaired; nor was she wrong; the brain of the fair maiden had received a shock, and reason was on the eve of abandoning its seat. Her father, on hearing from her mother

that she could not learn the cause of her grief, interrogated her, but to his great sorrow, could get only the word nothing, which seemed perpetually hovering on her lips. Day after day passed on, but the hapless girl grew more wretched till reason at length forsook its throne. She no longer felt the relief of tears, for her brain seemed as if on fire, she could not weep, and became the wandering victim of a hopeless passion, for on this subject she appeared to be quite sane; the name of St. Kevin would cause her to start; it was the chord that still vibrated to the touch, and again she would ramble forth to steal a fond look at the holy shrine where her heart worshipped with such ardent devotion. Saint Kevin, finding that she still followed him, resolved to avoid her, and seeing that even his cell was haunted by her footsteps, and his movements watched by Kathleen's "Eyes of most unholy blue," he south for a hiding-place, and one of prayer and reflection in the bosom of a close embowering wood, where, after having addressed his prayers to heaven, he crossed himself with great devotion. At this moment a rustling in the seared

Nothing," replied she. He looked in her face, so sweet, so full of the softest and most persuasive - eloquence, and tearing his robe from her grasp, fled with eager haste from the wood, leaving the wretched Kathleen extended at full length on the ground, where the violence of his exertion to liberate himself from her hold had precipitated her. She was aware of his wish to avoid her, and rising, wandered slowly to the banks of Lake Glendalough, and seating herself on a rock, began chanting in a wildly pleasing strain the plaintive ballads of her native isle, whose peculiar and touching sweetness is not to be equalled even by those of the Scottish islands. Her voice was very melodious, and the tone of her feelings was perceptible in her singing. The quiet lake bore the sound on its unruffled bosom, but the echoing rocks carried the wild cadence far away, and the voice of the maiden, chanting the Thamama Hullo, or the melancholy ballad of Tirowen, often brought one who loved her as his own soul to her feet.

Dermid, son of the chief of Clotho, adored Kathleen, and bewildered though she was, would have married her. He found her one evening seated on a verdant bank, where she had gathered some pale primroses, delicate and faded blossoms, apt emblems of herself. He threw himself down by her side.

"Kathleen, blue-eyed maid, what can I do to gain thy love?"

"Nothing," said she, mildly.

"Is there aught in this world you want?-if there be, say what it is, and I will get it for you.".

"Nothing," replied the maiden, and hurrying away, sought the cabin of her parents.

Often has she been found sleeping on the flinty rock, after a day of excessive fatigue spent in seeking for the haunts of Saint Kevin, with her fair tresses floating in the wind, and her tender feet blistered by the rocky soil peculiar to the Emerald Isle.

A whole year had expired, and Kathleen's footsteps were still bent towards the neighbourhood of the Seven Chapels. Every where the holy saint turned, he found the blueeyed maiden haunted him. Finding that persuasion, prayers, and chiding, were alike unheeded, he determined upon seeking some spot that would be inaccessible to all but himself, and sincerely prayed that nothing short of the aid of the Almighty should enable aught to reach it but himself. It happened about this time, that during one of her rambles, Kathleen received an injury by the falling of a fragment of rock, and was unable to leave her cabin for several days. Saint Kevin having discovered this circumstance, took the opportunity of finding a secure hiding-place. He had frequently remarked, with wonder, an uncommonly high cliff that hung beetling over Lake Glendalough, and had heard his parishioners say no person had ever been able to reach it, the ascent being so very dangerous. Saint Kevin retired to the sanctuary, and kneeling down at the holy altar, addressed devout and earnest prayer to the tutelar Saint of Ireland, imploring, fervently, his assistance in gaining the ascent to the cliff. He then departed at early dawn, and commenced his labours. After great exertion, and truly saintlike suffering, he reached the tremendous height which appeared to

a

hang like a fragment in the air. The figure of the holy man seemed, in this situation, a mere atom in creation.

On arriving at the top of the dizzy cliff, he knelt down, and looking over into the abyss beneath, observed that there was a slight opening on the side of the declivity towards the lake. He crept down, and found that by patience and perseverance, an excavation might be made large enough to admit the body of a man. He commenced his labours, and, with a thin sharp piece of rock, soon removed the earth from the rock, and formed a cave large enough to lie down in. He then returned to the Seven Chapels, and on the following day departed early, loaded with green rushes to cover his retreat; with a crucifix, a missal, and a lamp, and assisted by Saint Patrick, he reascended the mountain. On the outside, or rather on the top of the projecting cliff, he built himself an altar of gray stone and moss, where, on his bare knees, he cast himself before it, returning thanks to the holy mother, that he had at last escaped the besetting Kathleen, and her bewitching, soft blue eyes. Casting his weary frame along the cave, and resting his head on his stone pillow, he congratulated himself on having at length found a hiding place, and resigned himself, with confidence in his perfect safety, to the God of slumber; but

"Ah, the good saint little knew
What the wily sex can do,"

"Not earth or heaven is free
From her power, if fond she be."

Kathleen recovered, and many were the tedious rambles she underwent, in seeking to obtain a glimpse of her adored Saint Kevin. Day after day she wandered on, but he had entirely forsaken the Seven Chapels, and another priest had taken charge of his flock. One evening, Saint Kevin came down from his retreat to get food, and a

fresh supply of water rushes, which grow in great luxuriance along the banks of the lake, to carry to his rocky bed. The rushes became entangled in the bushes, and among the thorn-trees, and thus left traces of his footsteps.

man.

Ere the gray dawn of the morning had made its appearance, Kathleen arose from her sleepless couch, and resumed her search after the pious More than usually agitated, because his image had not met her eyes for many days, she wandered on, with wild and hurried steps, her fair hair loose in the morning breeze, till her attention was arrested by the sight of the rushes. She paused, and began to sing,

"Dear green, the sad emblem of lovers' despair,

I will braid me a plait for my wild floating hair."

and kept following the path, gathering these long blades of grass as she went along, till she was insensibly led to the top of the cliff. She bent over, and saw that the rushes were lying on the side of the cliff in greater abundance; she approached them, but imagine her delight, her rapture, when she found herself at the entrance of a cave, and her beloved Saint Kevin fast asleep within. There was a narrow ledge of rock in front of the cave, which hung over the deep abyss beneath, that a distant view of it would almost make the beholder giddy; on this, the path to the saint's bed, the lovely, but bewildered Kathleen knelt. For the first time for many months, her heart melted, and gentle tears distilled from their crystal fount,

"Across her wan cheek a gleam transiently burning, Flashed suddenly; then instant recoiling, fled back."

At length, a deep and convulsive sob burst from her over charged and quickly-throbbing bosom. It awoke the holy father, and starting from his slumber, not knowing Kathleen at the moment, he put forth his hand to ward off the apprehended danger, and pushed the hapless and loving maiden into the abyss below. As she was falling, the recollection of her fair figure occurred to him; he grasped with his hand, and tried, but could not save her; he heard her faint shrieks for assistance, and the splash of the waters as she reached the its waves.

The shock, to the unhappy Saint Kevin, was dreadful, and that heart, which defied all her tenderness and love, while living; that yielded not to her incessant and unwearied attachment, softened and yearned toward the departed Kathleen. He mourned her with tears and fasting, so long as he lived, and praying that she might not entirely be lost to his sight. The saints granted his prayer, and the Irish peasantry still assert that her blessed spirit floats on the dusky waves of the lake, and sings warning strains of music, to guard weak maidens against the approach of the wily god of love, whether he appear in the form of an Adonis, or clothed in the sanctity of the pure and holy man of God, the martyr of Lake Glendalough.

Tales of the Sea.

THE BURNING SHIP.

We were both born in the same village, and drew our nourishment in infancy from the same source. Yes, we have laid encircled in each other's arms, in the same cradle; and fond affection grew with our growth. But ah! how different were our conditions in life. She, the offspring of one who could boast of rank and wealth; whilst I was brought forth in comparative poverty. Agnes was the daughter of a baronet; her mother resigned her breath in giving birth to her child; and the first tears of the infant were shed upon the cold and lifeless breast of that being to whom she owed her

existence. My maternal parent was selected as wet-nurse, on account of her excellent health, and gentleness of disposition. My father was headgardener on the estate; and our little cottage, surrounded by a shrubbery, tastefully laid out, was situated in a most delightful and romantic part of the grounds.

Sir Edward was generous and condescending to his inferiors, as long as they preserved an unqualified respect for his dignified rank: but if any one aimed at superior station, or failed in due reverence to himself, he became vindictive and revengeful. His principles were of so aristocratical a nature that he considered it an ordination of divine authority for riches and titles to rule, aud humble obscurity to be content with tacit submission. Soon after the decease of his lady, he was appointed ambassador to a foreign Court; and the first recollections which I retain of him was his return and splendid entry to the castle, in my eighth year. In the meantime, a maiden aunt had officiated as mistress, in his absence; the pride and malice of whose heart had rendered her extremely obnoxious to all arouna her. In the cottage of her nurse, Agnes always found an affectionate bosom in which to repose her little griefs, and the soothings of tenderness were ever ready to calm the perturbations of her mind. It is impossible to define the feelings of childhood; for, as we grow advanced in years, the softer sympathies become deadened by intercourse with the world, and witnessing the scenes of misery which everywhere present themselves. Solomon hath said, childhood and youth are vanity: yet what would I give to possess the same innocence of heart, the same purity of thought, which I enjoyed in my early years! In our amusements, Agnes and myself were inseparable; and when removed from the haughty eye of her aunt, we indulged