At length, one autumn evening, a general shriek from the little household apprized Philipp Stroer of some unwonted occurrence, and straightway a voice demanded his blessing, and warm tears were wept upon his hand, and he knew that his son was at his feet! The story of Karl's absence was briefly and feelingly explained. Moved by his father's obstinate aversion to place himself in the hands of a strange practitioner, he had resolved to qualify himself for so precious a charge; and having interested an eminent surgeon of Munich by the detail of his affecting anxieties sufficiently to insure his instructions in the single branch of surgery requisite for his purpose, Karl had passed his days in infirmaries and hospitals, denying himself the common sustenance of nature, in order to maintain the respectability of garb necessary for his admittance to the lectures of his scientific preceptor. At length, his ardent endeavours were rewarded by a certificate of expertness; and a patent of nobility would have afforded him a far less gratifying excitement. Nor did Heaven withhold its blessing from a cause thus hallowed by filial devotion; the operation, which quickly followed his arrival at the farm, was attended with perfect success. For some days, indeed, the old man still maintained his resistance; but when he was assured that Karl had preceded his departure for Munich by a pilgrimage to Altenötting, and that the especial favour of the Black Lady had sanctified his undertaking, he became more passive--the result was a perfect restoration to sight. "And where," I exclaimed, "is this excellent, this worthy Karl of yours at present?" "By your side," replied a chorus of voices; and following their indication, I turned towards a young man of sturdy appearance, who acknowledged my salute with prompt and open frankness. He wore the common peasant costume of the country, and laughed away my honest praises as a mere exaggeration. "I had nothing to fear from my absence," said he, looking towards a very beautiful girl who stood beside him, "for I was secure of the good faith of my Hannchen, and I knew that the Black Lady would bless my enterprise!" I could not presume to despise this strange union of intelligence and bigotry; nay, so intimately is the remembrance of the family of Stroer connected in my mind with that of the miraculous idol, that I must acknowledge some sort of lingering superstitious reverence towards the shrine of the Black Virgin of Altenötting.--_New Monthly Magazine._ * * * * * THE RIVER. River, River, little River, Bright you sparkle on your way, O'er the yellow pebbles dancing, Through the flowers and foliage glancing, Like a child at play. River, River, swelling River, On you rush o'er rough and smooth-- Louder, faster, brawling, leaping Over rocks, by rose-banks sweeping, Like impetuous youth.