THE BLIND GIRL OF POMPEII.

Who that has read the “Last Days of Pompeii” can forget Nydia, the blind flower-girl? So sweet, and pure, and gentle, and devoted in her unrequited love, she steals insensibly upon the heart, and wins a place therein, which even the brilliant Ione fails to obtain! Poor, artless innocent, her life, alas! was one of disappointment from its birth.

We cannot better portray the character of this guileless being than by copying the exquisite description of Bulwer. The scene opens with a company of gay, young Pompeiians—among whom is Glaucus, the hero of the story—taking a morning stroll through the town. We let the story speak for itself.

“Thus conversing, their steps were arrested by a crowd gathered round an open space where three streets met; and just where the porticoes of a light and graceful temple threw their shade, there stood a young girl, with a flower-basket on her right arm, and a small three-stringed instrument of music in the left hand, to whose low and soft tones she was modulating a wild and half-barbaric air. At every pause in the music she gracefully waved her flower basket round, inviting the loiterers to buy; and many a sesterce was showered into the basket, either in compliment to the music, or in compassion to the songstress—for she was blind.

“ ‘It is my poor Thessalian,’ said Glaucus, stopping; ‘I have not seen her since my return to Pompeii. Hush! her voice is sweet; let us listen.’

THE BLIND FLOWER GIRL’S SONG.