person whom neither of us had ever seen, and earnestly advised me to avoid her. Should I obey such a mysterious mandate, or should I follow the dictates of my own reason? Ah, it was so hard to decide; — and yet not so very hard either, for in Fantine's presence I forgot all else, and, notwithstanding I felt that my friend Hodge was being unfairly dealt with, I could not resist the power of her charms, but drifted surely and steadily into a deep, absorbing affection, for this, the strangest woman I ever met. She knew I loved her, and did nothing either to discourage me, or to lead me on. Those days seemed months. Our acquaintance seemed of years' duration. Ah, those perfect June evenings! How swiftly sped their hours, passed in music and conversation. Her singing was far superior to anything of the kind which my vivid imagination had ever conceived. Often had I listened to voices, which, in certain parts of their compass, were full, rich, and clear, and, if confined strictly within that particular range, seemed my ideal of melodious purity and excellence; but a semitone above or below the prescribed limit would often ruin the whole effect. Miss Darcet's tones were equally pure and full from the low notes of the contralto to the extreme high ones of the soprano. So elastic, and sɔ expressive was her voice, and so easily executed the most difficult passages, that praises were always arising to my lips at the close of each of her renditions. I was puzzled to know why she lived so secludedly, and so shunned publicity, when her appearance upon the concert-stage would so surely bring success and world-wide fame. One day I ventured the remark that such a voice should be used for the enjoyment of a larger circle of friends than it had thus far favored. "I would be only too glad to sing for the public, if the public would be content with the simple singing, but the associations of the theatre, and the concert are not for such as I am, a lesson taught me by experience. She looked at me with a smile almost cynical in its expression, and I could not press the subject by further questions, though I deeply wished to know her meaning. After a long silence she said, "If we continue friends, I will sometime tell you of incidents in my experience which may interest you. I could trust no one else with them but you." She turned to me, and put her hand on mine looking at me intently. "I wonder why I put so much confidence in you. never before met a person who, from the first moment of my acquaintance, so thoroughly commanded my respect.

I

"Sometimes it seems as if I had known you for a long time." Then she added facetiously, "Perhaps we have been associated in a former state of existence, and are now coming to a realization of the fact." I was silent, being deeply immersed in my own thoughts, in which Hodge and the Captain were prominently concerned. I knew that the former felt a deep attachment for this woman of unfathomable character. I felt also that I was disloyal to my old friend in my growing affection for Fantine, and I resolved then and there to ascertain, if possible, the extent of her interest in him. "Will you forgive me," I said, "if I ask if my friend Hodge has given you any reason to suppose that he cared more for you than your recent acquaintance would ordinarily warrant? So direct a question I fully realize would seem impertinent to most women, but I believe you will not misunderstand my meaning?"

"I think I thoroughly understand you, Mr. Lang," she replied, with an intonation which made me suspect her interpretation of my meaning was even more thorough than I had anticipated or wished; "I sincerely hope he

considers me only as a friend, for nothing more could I possibly be to him. I certainly have given him no reasons to think of me except from the stand-point of friendship.

Why did these words bring me such indescribable satisfaction? I dared not raise my eyes for fear of showing the secret of my heart, which I felt must ever remain a secret, since to tell her of my love, would be the violation of mental promises and resolves made a hundred times during the past year. No; I must kill this passion which seemed the purest of my whole life, for, I had often told her who had so lately gone from me, that she was my wife, not only for life, but for all eternity, - all eternity; and once, ah, how clearly I recall it! with her arms twined about my neck, she had asked me to promise that, if she died before I did, I would never marry again. How gladly, and how sincerely, had I made that promise, never fearing that my love would waver, though separated a century from her by sorrow, or death. O, weak, fickle mind! I found myself mentally chastised for this sudden affection for a stranger, of whom, as yet, I knew nothing. I was startled from my reverie by Miss Darcet's low voice; "You too have a history my friend."""Pardon me;" I exclaimed, “I have a sad one, so sad and so drear that many times I have looked and longed for death, to bring me that rest and peace which nothing else can give." "Some day," she returned, " you and I will have an interview for the express purpose of condoling with, and acquiring a better knowledge of each other."

At this instant Miss Darcet's aunt came in, and our tête-à-tête was ended. Mrs. Milveux was a very interesting personage, given over pretty throughly to enjoyments and recreations better suited to ladies of twenty, than to those of forty, which was her apparent age. "Fantine, dear, will you spare Mr. Lang for a few moments to escort me to the wharf? Major James wishes me to accompany his party on a little sail, and they are nearly ready to start?" She appropriated my arm, and led me away without assent either from Miss Darcet or myself.

Once outside the cottage, she surprised me by saying, "Mr. Lang, consider me your friend when I tell you that Fantine Darcet has caused more heart-aches than any ten women I ever knew. She is good and pure, but I believe her incapable of love, and I warn you to avoid her. A word to the wise. This little bit of advice is unselfish, as you must know. I submit it, I hope, in season to save you the unrest which I have seen visited upon scores of men before you; don't forget Au revoir "; and she stepped lightly over the boat-side, giving me no opportunity to reply, or remark upon her strange statement. Mechanically I turned toward my hotel. Reaching it, I found Hodge reclining lazily in a hammock on the veranda. "Where's the Captain?" I enquired. "On his way to England," he answered; "I saw him aboard the 'Liverpool' last night, and before this he is well on his way.' "Isn't this a sudden departure?" I asked. "Thereby hangs a tale," said Hodge,-"Captain Faunce, with all his powers of self-control, with all his knowledge of the invisible, and in spite of his superiority over men in general, is yet within the influence of one power which levels high and low alike; and which brings to one heaven and peace, to another the hell of discontent. Our Captain is in love, and, to break the influence of the passion, he runs away, for he knows that to stay will only bring unrest, and again sink him in the world of matter and unconsciousness. Whether or not he will benefit his case by absenting himself, remains to be seen."

"And who may the lady be who has thus succeeded in capturing our lion?" I questioned. "None other than she whom I loved during the first hour's association, but the Captain confesses his love before he has even entered her presence, in the ordinary way. In fact he is more deeply infatuated than I am myself with

"Miss Darcet?" I gasped. "Fantine!

To be continued.

RESPONSE.

Oh! let the themes of old renew,
And fill the heart with fond desire
Bedeck them with their former hue,
Such as the strains of love inspire.
But ah! the harp so long unstrung

Now fails to echo strains sublime;
Each chord is but a wail unsung;

Each note is but a funeral chime.
The laurel and the "lover's lute,"
Are symphonies of joyous spring;
The soul of song, alas, is mute

When ivy twines the tensioned string.
Ambition's end, is lost when gained,

It breathes of autumn's sombre gloom,
The heart congealed, by passion pained,
Recedes within a living tomb.

Then silent be, O harp of old!

Thy cadences were false as vain;
And thus beneath the gathering mould,
Obscure, unsought, for aye remain.
But Hark! from out the depths afar,
In numbers flows a sweet refrain;
Its signal is a gleaming star,

Whose rays reflect a heavenly reign.
Beneath its glow a fountain wells,
That owns yon spirit's firm control;
A voice in softest accent swells,

And sings the Empire of the Soul.

Thou broken harp adieu! I seek no more
For what thou canst not bring!
Ah! dost thou hear, my friend of yore,

I'll live the song thou bidst me sing?

M. SCAILL.

A soul is an infinity occupying eternity. A life-time, therefore, is too short to comprehend another soul. There will always be sides to a character which you have never seen, and which may be flashed upon you, without a moment's notice, to your exaltation or disgust. (Ed.)

THE MYSTERIES AMONG THE QUICHES.

VOTAN, THE "LORD OF THE SACRED KULBRUL."

On the second of August in the year 1854 A. D., a priest by the name of Vicente Spina Hernandez discovered a Quiche calendar, an ancient relic of the temple of the Sun of Ixtlavacan,-Guatemala. This precious and authentic document added another proof to the many previously obtained, that the month was divided into twenty days among the Quiches, as well as among the Aztecs, and that each day of the month was presided over by a god, or divine hero.

The first day of this calendar was dedicated to Imos, the Sun; the second one was consecrated to Iki or Igh, the Spirit, the Soul, or the Life-Giver; and the third day was Votan's day. He was also called the "People's Heart" by the Quiches, and the "Lord of the Sacred Tunkul" by the Tzendals. He had appeared to them as Heaven's envoy to divide the land among them, to civilize them, and to enact wise laws and establish a religious government, for he claimed that Imos, the Sun, was his father. In the history of the ancient civilized races of Central America and Mexico, Votan is the first personage whose record is not thoroughly mythological. The old Quiche manuscripts represent him as landing by the "Little Descent," on the coast of Yucatan, and as hailing from a place where the sun rises. Why the expression "Little Descent" is used, is not explained by the translators of the original text who give worthless hypotheses as a solution of the problem propounded. It can be compared, however, to the same mystical expression used in the Bible, namely, Mount Ararat, the "Mount of Descent."

The few fragments referring to the venerated personage called Votan, are unfortunately too laconic to satisfy the historian, but we know that many Guatemalan, Chiapanese, and Yucatec cities claim to the present day the honor of having been founded by him, and also of having received from him the laws by which they abided, and were governed for a series of centuries. The date of his appearance on the coast of Yucatan is lost, in the night of time, and the few facts which have been transmitted to posterity concerning his wonderful career, have frequently been disfigured by the Spanish priests who were hopelessly ignorant of mystical lore, and who undertook their researches among the rites and customs of the conquered natives of New Spain with a selfish aim, a knowledge thereof being requisite for their missionary work. They saw everywhere a preconceived plot of the devil to thwart them in their endeavor to convert the Indians, and ruthlessly destroyed every literary work that was interfering with their own teachings, or introduced interpolations to make history agree with their sacred chronology.

Now let us proceed to translate the Quiche text which is as follows: "Votan wrote a book on the origin of the Indians, and their migration to this country. The principal argument of his work tends to prove that "he is a descendant of the Sun-god, Imos; that he belongs to a serpent race, or Chanes, and that he comes from Chivim." He declares that he was the first man deputed by the Divinity to people this region, and divide the land among the inhabitants. He describes the way he went from his birthplace to the coast of Yucatan, and mentions four different journeys which he undertook to his native country.

"In his first voyage he says that, having started from Valum-Votan, or

Votan's land, he went to visit the residence of "thirteen serpents" and then went home. He left a second time to go and see God's house which was being erected. After having accomplished his object, he undertook a third journey in order to visit the place where stood an old edifice which men had built at the command of their common ancestor, who had ordered them to raise it up to Heaven. He adds that those with whom he conversed on the same spot told him that the building he was contemplating marked the place where God had given to each family a different language. He asserts that, while returning from his visit to God's house, he went for a second time through certain subterranean passage-ways in order to examine all the signs they contained. He states that one of these passage-ways ended at the root of Heaven, and adds, as an explanation, that it was only a serpent's hole, and that he was able to go through it because he was himself a serpent's son."

The mysterious veil of symbolism with which Votan surrounded his own terrestrial life does not cover a mere fiction, simply because it was incomprehensible to his translators. It is a sublime page of arcane science, and, though wrapped up in the emblematic language of prehistoric races, a key may yet be found that will unlock the occult secrets of Votan's life, and of his mission on earth. It is useless to mention that the house of God under erection could be nothing else but a reference to the establishment of a new system of worship; and it is hard to say whether or not the description of the old edifice has not been tampered with in the endeavor to connect it with the Tower of Babel. But even the text of several translations of the original manuscript would not justify such an erroneous assertion, the nearest to it being: "he saw with his own eyes a very high wall." Besides, a tower, corresponding to the Biblical description, is attributed to the Quinames or Central American giants, anteriorly to Votan's arrival in the country.

Extant traditions relate that Votar. landed with seven chiefs who belonged, like himself, to the Clan or Serpent race. This expression puzzled the conquerors, and even later commentators, almost as much as the discovery that the natives possessed a thoroughly organized secret order of chivalry, with ordeals so severe that the neophytes frequently perished in their attempt to become initiated. Yet these Aztec knights were only degenerate performers of the mysteries instituted by Votan; otherwise the symbol of wisdom and Life Eternal, the astronomical emblem of the astral light, and the milky way, would not have been a lost glyph to the native worshipers of the Sun-god, Imos, whose path to the tropics of Cancer and Capricorn is allegorically represented as a serpent, his son. Thus Votan, through his initiation, was at once a serpent of wisdom and the son of the serpent, his initiator. Had the Spanish priests remembered Jesus' words: "Be ye wise as serpents," they might have solved a part of the riddle, and become aware that among all ancient nations, from time immemorial, the serpent was a sacred glyph with manifold occult meanings.

---

In Votan's seven companions we find another illustration of the occult teachings embodied in the laconic history of the Quiche legislator. Whether we consider the number seven as the Telesphorus of the Pythagoreans,—because by it all mankind and the universe are led to its end,as the triangle and a square, double emblem of spiritual life linked to earthly life, or under its seven-fold sign of two interlaced triangles with a