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diff --git a/old/30076.txt b/old/30076.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..87ce6ad --- /dev/null +++ b/old/30076.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7103 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Graham's Magazine Vol XXXIII No. 3 +September 1848, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Graham's Magazine Vol XXXIII No. 3 September 1848 + +Author: Various + +Editor: George R. Graham + Robert T. Conrad + +Release Date: September 24, 2009 [EBook #30076] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE, SEPT 1848 *** + + + + +Produced by David T. Jones, Juliet Sutherland and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Canada Team at +http://www.pgdpcanada.net + + + + + + + +[Illustration: J. Addison +ANGILA MERVALE +or +SIX MONTHS BEFORE MARRIAGE. +_Engraved Expressly for Graham's Magazine_] + + +GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE. + +VOL. XXXIII. PHILADELPHIA, SEPTEMBER, 1848. No. 3. + + + + +ANGILA MERVALE; + +OR SIX MONTHS BEFORE MARRIAGE. + +BY F. E. F., AUTHOR OF "AARON'S ROD," "TELLING SECRETS," ETC. + + +"They say Miss Morton is engaged to Robert Hazlewood," said Augusta +Lenox. + +"So I hear," replied Angila Mervale, to whom this piece of news had +been communicated. "How can she?" + +"How can she, indeed?" replied Augusta. "He's an ugly fellow." + +"Ugly! yes," continued Angila, "and a disagreeable ugliness, too. I +don't care about a man's being handsome--a plain black ugliness I +don't object to--but _red_ ugliness, ah!" + +"They say he's clever," said Augusta. + +"They always say that, my dear, of any one that's so ugly," replied +Angila. "I don't believe it. He's conceited, and I think disagreeable; +and I don't believe he's clever." + +"I remarked last night that he was very attentive to Mary Morton," +continued Augusta. "They waltzed together several times." + +"Yes, and how badly he waltzes," said Angila. "Mary Morton is too +pretty a girl for such an awkward, ugly man. How lovely she looked +last night. I hope it's not an engagement, for I quite like her." + +"Well, perhaps it is not. It's only one of the _on dits_, and probably +a mere report." + +"Who are you discussing, girls?" asked Mrs. Mervale, from the other +side of the room. + +"Robert Hazlewood and Miss Morton," replied Augusta, "they are said to +be engaged." + +"Ah!" said Mrs. Mervale. "Is it a good match for her?" + +"Oh, no!" chimed in both the girls at once. "He's neither handsome, nor +rich, nor any thing." + +"Nor any thing!" repeated Mrs. Mervale, laughing. "Well, that's +comprehensive. A young man may be a very respectable young man, and be +a very fair match for a girl without being either handsome or rich; +but if he is positively 'nothing,' why, then, I grant you, it is bad +indeed." + +"Oh, I believe he is respectable enough," replied Augusta, carelessly, +for, like most young girls, the word "respectable" did not rank very +high in her vocabulary. + +"And if he is not rich, what are they to live on," asked Mrs. Mervale. + +"Love and the law, I suppose," replied her daughter, laughing. "He's a +lawyer, is he not Augusta?" + +"Oh!" resumed Mrs. Mervale, "he's a son, then, I suppose, of old John +Hazlewood." + +"Yes," replied Augusta. + +"Then he may do very well in his profession," continued Mrs. Mervale, +"for his father has a large practice I know, and is a very respectable +man. If this is a clever young man, he may tread in his father's +footsteps." + +This did not convey any very high eulogium to the young ladies' ears. +That young Robert Hazlewood might be an old John Hazlewood in his turn +and time, did not strike them as a very brilliant future. In fact they +did not think more of the old man than they did of the young one. + +Old gentlemen, however, were not at quite such a discount with Mrs. +Mervale as with her daughter and her friend; and she continued to +descant upon the high standing of Mr. Hazlewood the elder, not one +word in ten of which the girls heard, for she, like most old ladies, +once started upon former times, was thinking of the pleasant young +John Hazlewood of early days, who brought back with him a host of +reminiscences, with which she indulged herself and the girls, while +they, their heads full of last night's party and Mary Morton and +Robert Hazlewood, listened as civilly as they could, quite unable to +keep the thread of her discourse, confounding in her history Robert +Hazlewood's mother with his grandmother, and wondering all the while +when she would stop, that they might resume their gossip. + +"You visit his sister, Mrs. Constant, don't you?" asked Augusta. + +"Yes, we have always visited the Hazlewoods," replied Angila, "but I +am not intimate with any of them. They always seemed to me those kind +of pattern people I dislike." + +"Is Mr. Constant well off?" inquired Mrs. Mervale. + +"No, I should think not," replied Angila, "from the way in which they +live. They have a little bit of a two-story house, and keep only a +waiter girl. How I do hate to see a woman open the door," she +continued, addressing Augusta. + +"So do I," replied her friend. "I would have a man servant--a woman +looks so shabby." + +"Yes," returned Angila. "There's nothing I dislike so much. No woman +shall ever go to my door." + +"If you have a man servant," suggested Mrs. Mervale. + +"Of course," said Angila; "and that I will." + +"But suppose you cannot afford it," said her mother. + +"I don't choose to suppose any thing so disagreeable or improbable," +replied her daughter, gayly. + +"It may be disagreeable," continued Mrs. Mervale, "but I don't see the +improbability of the thing, Angila, nor, indeed, the disagreeability +even. The Constants are young people with a small family, and I think +a woman is quite sufficient for them. Their house is small, I +suppose." + +"Oh, yes, a little bit of a place." + +"Large enough for them," replied Mrs. Mervale, whose ideas were not as +enlarged as her daughter's. + +"Perhaps so," said Angila, "but I do hate low ceilings so. I don't +care about a large house, but I do like large rooms." + +"You can hardly have large rooms in a small house," remarked Mrs. +Mervale, smiling. + +"Why, Mrs. Astley's is only a two-story house, mamma, and her rooms +are larger than these." + +"Yes, my dear, Mrs. Astley's is an expensive house; the lot must be +thirty feet by--" + +But Angila had no time to go into the dimensions of people's "lots." +She and Augusta were back to the party again; and they discussed +dresses, and looks, and manners, with great _gout_. + +Their criticisms were, like most young people's, always in extremes. +The girls had either looked "lovely" or "frightful," and the young men +were either "charming" or "odious;" and they themselves, from their +own account, had been in a constant state of either delight or terror. + +"I was so afraid Robert Hazlewood was going to ask me to waltz," said +Angila; "and he waltzes so abominably that I did not know what I +should do. But, to my delight, he asked me only for a cotillion, and I +fortunately was engaged. I was so glad it was so." + +"Then you did not dance with him at all?" + +"No--to my great joy, he walked off, angry, I believe." + +"Oh, my dear!" remonstrated her mother. + +"Why not, mother," replied Angila. "He's my 'favorite aversion.' Well, +Augusta," she continued, turning to her friend, "and when do you sail +for New Orleans?" + +"On Monday," replied Augusta. + +"On Monday!--so soon! Oh, what shall I do without you, Augusta!" said +Angila, quite pathetically. "And you will be gone six months, you +think?" + +"Yes, so papa says," replied the young lady. "He does not expect to be +able to return before May." + +"Not before May! And its only November now!" said Angila, in prolonged +accents of grief. "How much may happen in that time!" + +"Yes," returned her friend, gaily, "you may be engaged before that." + +"Not much danger," replied Angila, laughing. + +"But remember, I am to be bridemaid," continued Augusta. + +"Certainly," said Angila, in the same tone, "I shall expect you from +New Orleans on purpose." + +"And who will it be to, Angila," said Augusta. + +"That's more than I can tell," replied Angila; "but somebody that's +very charming, I promise you." + +"By the way, what is your _beau ideal_, Angila, I never heard you +say," continued Augusta. + +"My _beau ideal_ is as shadowy and indistinct as one of Ossian's +heroes," replied Angila, laughing; "something very distinguished in +air and manners, with black eyes and hair, are the only points decided +on. For the rest, Augusta, I refer you to Futurity," she added, gayly. + +"I wonder who you will marry!" said Augusta, with the sudden fervor of +a young lady on so interesting a topic. + +"I don't know, only nobody that I have ever seen yet," replied Angila, +with animation. + +"He must be handsome, I suppose," said Augusta. + +"No," replied Angila, "I don't care for beauty. A man should have a +decided air of the gentleman, with an expression of talent, height, +and all that--but I don't care about what you call beauty." + +"You are very moderate, indeed, in your requirements, my dear," said +her mother, laughing. "And pray, my love, what have you to offer this +_rara avis_ in return for such extraordinary charms." + +"Love, mamma," replied the gay girl, smiling. + +"And suppose, my dear," pursued her mother, "that your hero should set +as high an estimate upon himself as you do upon yourself. Your tall, +elegant, talented man, may expect a wife who has fortune, beauty and +talents, too." + +Angila laughed. She was not vain, but she knew she was pretty, and she +was sufficiently of a belle to be satisfied with her own powers if she +could only meet with the man, so she said, playfully. + +"Well, then, mamma, he won't be _my_ hero, that's all." + +And no doubt she answered truly. The possession of such gifts are very +apt to vary in young ladies' eyes according to the gentleman's +perception of their charms. And heroes differ from one another, +according as the pronouns "mine and thine," may be pre-fixed to his +title. + +"And such a bijou of a house as I mean to have," continued Angila, +with animation. "The back parlor and dining-room shall open into a +conservatory, where I shall have any quantity of canary-birds--" + +"My dear," interrupted her mother, "what nonsense you do talk." + +"Why, mamma," said Angila, opening her eyes very wide, "don't you like +canaries?" + +"Yes, my dear," replied her mother, "I don't object to aviaries or +conservatories, only to your talking of them in this way, as matters +of course and necessity. They are all very well for rich people." + +"Well, then, I mean to be rich," continued Angila, playfully. + +"That's the very nonsense I complain of," said her mother. "It's +barely possible, but certainly very improbable, Angila, that you ever +should be rich; and considering you have been used to nothing of the +kind, it really amuses me to hear you talk so. Your father and I have +lived all our lives very comfortably and happily, Angila, without +either aviary or conservatory, and I rather think you will do the +same, my love." + +"Your father and I!" What a falling off was there! for although Angila +loved her father and mother dearly, she could not imagine herself +intent upon household occupations, an excellent motherly woman some +thirty years hence, any more than that her _beau ideal_ should wear +pepper and salt like her father. + +"It was all very well for papa and mamma," but to persuade a girl of +eighteen that she wants no more than her mother, whose heart happens +to be like Mrs. Mervale, just then full of a new carpet that Mr. +Mervale is hesitating about affording, is out of the question. + +And, unreasonable as it may be, whoever would make a young girl more +rational, destroys at once the chief charm of her youth--the +exuberance of her fresh imagination, that gilds not only the future, +but throws a rosy light upon all surrounding objects. Her visions, I +grant you, are absurd, but the girl without visions is a clod of the +valley, for she is without imagination--and without imagination, what +is life? what is love? + +Never fear that her visions will not be fulfilled, and therefore bring +disappointment--for the power carries the pleasure with it. The same +gift that traces the outline, fills up the sketch. The girls who dream +of heroes are those most ready to fall in love with any body--and no +woman is so hard to interest as she who never had a vision, and +consequently sees men just as they are; and so if Angila talked +nonsense, Mrs. Mervale's sense was not much wiser. + +Angila was a pretty, playful, romantic girl, rather intolerant of the +people she did not like, and enthusiastic about those she did; full of +life and animation, she was a decided belle in the gay circle in +which she moved. + +Miss Lenox was her dearest friend for the time being, and the proposed +separation for the next six months was looked upon as a cruel +affliction, only to be softened by the most frequent and confidential +correspondence. + +For the first few weeks of Augusta's absence, the promises exchanged +on both sides were vehemently fulfilled. Letters were written two or +three limes a week, detailing every minute circumstance that happened +to either. But at the end of that time Angila was at a party where she +met Robert Hazlewood, who talked to her for some time. It was not a +dancing party, and consequently they conversed together more than they +had ever done before. He seemed extremely amused with her liveliness, +and looked at her with unmistakable admiration. Had Augusta Lenox been +there to see, perhaps Angila would not have received his attentions so +graciously; but there being nothing to remind her of his being her +"favorite aversion," she talked with animation, pleased with the +admiration she excited, without being annoyed by any inconvenient +reminiscences. And not only was Miss Lenox absent, but Miss Morton was +present, and Angila thought she looked over at them a little +anxiously; so that a little spirit of rivalry heightened, if not her +pleasure, certainly Hazlewood's consequence in her eyes. Girls are +often much influenced by each other in these matters--and the absence +of Miss Lenox, who "did not think much of Robert Hazlewood," with the +presence of Miss Morton who did, had no small influence in Angila's +future fate. + +"Did you have a pleasant party?" asked Mrs. Mervale, who had not been +with her daughter the evening before. + +"Yes, very pleasant," replied Angila; "one of the pleasantest +'conversation parties' I have ever been at." + +And "who was there--and who did you talk to?" were the next questions, +which launched Angila in a full length description of every thing and +every body--and among them figured quite conspicuously Robert +Hazlewood. + +"And you found him really clever?" said her mother. + +"Oh, decidedly," replied her daughter. + +"Who," said her brother, looking up from his breakfast, "Hazlewood? +Certainly he is. He's considered one of the cleverest among the young +lawyers. Decidedly a man of talent." + +Angila looked pleased. + +"His father is a man of talent before him," observed Mrs. Mervale. "As +a family, the Hazlewoods have always been distinguished for ability. +This young man is ugly, you say, Angila?" + +"Yes--" replied Angila, though with some hesitation. "Yes, he is ugly, +certainly--but he has a good countenance; and when he converses he is +better looking than I thought him." + +"It's a pity he's conceited," said Mrs. Mervale, innocently; her +impression of the young man being taken from her daughter's previous +description of him. "Since he is really clever, it's a pity, for it's +such a drawback always." + +"Conceited! I don't think he's conceited," said Angila, quite +forgetting her yesterday's opinion. + +"Don't you? I thought it was you who said so, my dear," replied her +mother, quietly. + +"Yes, I did once think so," said Angila, slightly blushing at her own +inconsistency. "I don't know why I took the idea in my head--but in +fact I talked more to him, and became better acquainted with him last +evening than I ever have before. When there is dancing, there is so +little time for conversation; and he really talks very well." + +"He is engaged to Miss Morton, you say?" continued Mrs. Mervale. + +"Well, I don't know," replied Angila, adding, as she remembered the +animated looks of admiration he had bestowed upon herself, "I doubt +it--that is the report, however." + +"Hazlewood's no more engaged to Mary Morton than I am," said young +Mervale, carelessly. "Where did you get that idea?" + +"Why every body says so, George," said Angila. + +"Pshaw! every body's saying so don't make it so." + +"But he's very attentive to her," replied Angila. + +"Well, and if he is," retorted Mervale, "it does not follow that he +must be in love with her. You women do jump to conclusions, and make +up matches in such a way," he continued, almost angrily. + +"I think she likes him," pursued Angila. "I think she would have him." + +"Have him! to be sure she would," replied George, in the same tone; +not that he considered the young lady particularly in love with his +friend, but as if any girl might be glad to have him--for brothers are +very apt to view such cases differently from sisters, who refuse young +gentlemen for their friends without mercy. + +"But he's ugly, you say," continued Mrs. Mervale, sorrowfully, who, +old lady as she was, liked a handsome young man, and always lamented +when she found mental gifts unaccompanied by personal charms. + +"Yes, he's no beauty, that's certain," said Angila, gayly. + +"Has he a good air and figure?" pursued Mrs. Mervale, still hoping so +clever a man might be better looking after all. + +"Yes, tolerable--middle height--nothing remarkable one way or the +other." And then the young lady went off to tell some piece of news, +that quite put Mr. Hazlewood out of her mother's head for the present. + +When Angila next wrote to Augusta, although she spoke of Mrs. +Carpenter's party, a little consciousness prevented her saying much +about Robert Hazlewood, and consequently her friend was quite +unsuspicious of the large share he had in making the party she +described so pleasant. + +Hazlewood had really been pleased by Angila. She was pretty--and he +found her lively and intelligent. He had always been inclined to +admire her, but she had turned from him once or twice in what he had +thought a haughty manner, and consequently he had scarcely known her +until they met at this little _conversazione_ of Mrs. Carpenter's, +where accident placed them near each other. The party was so small +that where people happened to find themselves, there they staid--it +requiring some courage for a young man to break the charmed ring, and +deliberately plant himself before any lady, or attempt to talk to any +one except her beside whom fate had placed him. + +Now Angila had the corner seat on a sofa near the fire-place, and +Hazlewood was standing, leaning against the chimney-piece, so that a +nicer, more cosy position for a pleasant talk could hardly be +conceived in so small a circle. Miss Morton was on the other side of +the fire-place, occupying the corresponding situation to Angila, and +Angila could see her peeping forward from time to time to see if +Hazlewood still maintained his place. His back was turned toward her, +so if she did throw any anxious glances that way, he did not see them. + +Angila met him a few evenings after this at the Opera, and found that +he was a passionate lover of music. They talked again, and he very +well, for he really was a sensible, well-educated young man. Music is +a favorite source of inspiration, and Hazlewood was a connoisseur as +well as amateur. She found that he seldom missed a night at the Opera, +and "she was surprised she had not seen him there before, as she went +herself very often." + +"He had seen her, however;" and he looked as if it were not easy not +to see _her_ when she was there. + +She blushed and was pleased, for it evidently was not an unmeaning +compliment. + +"Mr. Hazlewood's very clever," she said the next day; "and his tastes +are so cultivated and refined. He is very different from the usual run +of young men." (When a girl begins to think a man different from the +"usual run," you may be sure she herself is off the common track.) +"There's something very manly in all his sentiments, independent and +high-toned. He cannot be engaged to Mary Morton, for I alluded to the +report, and he seemed quite amused at the idea. I can see he thinks +her very silly, which she is, though pretty--though he was two +gentlemanly to say so." + +"How, then, did you find out that he thought so," asked George, +smiling. + +"Oh, from one or two little things. We were speaking of a German poem +that I was trying to get the other day, and he said he had it, but had +lent it to Miss Morton. 'However,' he added, with a peculiar smile, +'he did not believe she wanted to read it, and at any rate, he would +bring it to me as soon as she returned it. He doubted whether she was +much of a German reader.' But it was more the smile and the manner in +which he said it, than the words, that made me think he had no very +high opinion of her literary tastes." + +"He may not like her any the less for that," said George, carelessly. +"I think your clever literary men rarely do value a woman less for her +ignorance." + +But there was an expression in Angila's pretty face that seemed to +contradict this assertion; for, like most pretty women, the was vainer +of her talents than her beauty--and she thought Hazlewood had been +quite struck by some of her criticisms the night before. + +However this might be, the intimacy seemed to progress at a wonderful +rate. He called and brought her books; and they had a world to say +every time they met, which, whether by accident or design, was now +beginning to be very often. + +"You knew old Mr. Hazlewood, mamma, did not you?" said Angila. "And +who did you say Mrs. Hazlewood was?" And now she listened very +differently from the last time that her mother had launched forth on +the topic of old times and friends. Angila was wonderfully interested +in all the history of the whole race, for Mrs. Mervale began with the +great grandfathers, maternal and paternal; and she kept the thread of +the story with surprising distinctness, and made out the family +pedigree with amazing correctness. + +"Then they are an excellent family, mamma," she said. + +"To be sure they are," replied Mrs. Mervale, "one of the oldest and +best in the city." + +It was wonderful what a quantity of books Angila read just about this +time; but Hazlewood was always sending her something, which she seemed +to take peculiar pleasure in surprising him by having finished before +they met again. And her bright eyes grew brighter, and occasionally, +and that not unfrequently, they had an abstracted, dreamy look, as if +her thoughts were far away, occupied in very pleasant visions--whether +they were now of Ossian-heroes, dark-eyed and dim, we doubt. + +She was rather unpleasantly roused to a waking state, however, by a +passage in one of Augusta Lenox's last letters, which was, + +"What has become of your 'favorite aversion,' Robert Hazlewood? When +are he and Mary Morton to be married? I give her joy of him--as you +say, how can she?" + +Angila colored scarlet with indignation as she read this, almost +wondering at first what Augusta meant. + +She did not answer the letter; some consciousness, mixed with a good +deal of vexation, prevented her. + +Hazlewood's attentions to Angila began to be talked of a good deal. +Her mother was congratulated, and she was complimented, for every body +spoke well of him. "A remarkably clever young man with excellent +prospects," the old people said. The young girls talked of him +probably pretty much as Angila and Augusta had done--but she did not +hear that, and the young men said, + +"Hazlewood was a devilish clever fellow, and that Angila Mervale would +do very well if she could get him." + +That the gentleman was desperately in love there was no doubt; and as +for the young lady--that she was flattered and pleased and interested, +was hardly less clear. Her bright eyes grew softer and more dreamy +every day. + +Of what was she dreaming? What could her visions be now? Can she by +any possibility make a hero of Robert Hazlewood? Sober common sense +would say "No!" but bright-eyed, youthful imagination may boldly +answer, "Why not?" Time, however, can only decide that point. + +Two more letters came from Augusta Lenox about this time, and remained +unanswered. "Wait till I am engaged," Angila had unconsciously said to +herself, and then blushed the deepest blush, as she caught the words +that had risen to her lips. + +She did not wait long, however. Bright, beaming, blushing and tearful, +she soon announced the intelligence to her mother, asking her consent, +and permission to refer Mr. Hazlewood to her father. + +The Mervales were very well pleased with the match, which, in fact, +was an excellent one, young Hazlewood being in every respect Angila's +superior, except in appearance, where she, as is the woman's right, +bore the palm of beauty. Not but that she was quick, intelligent, and +well cultivated; but there are more such girls by hundreds in our +community, than there are men of talent, reading, industry and worth +to merit them; and Angila was amazingly happy to have been one of the +fortunate few to whose lot such a man falls. + +And now, indeed, she wrote a long, long letter to Augusta--so full of +happiness, describing Hazlewood, as she thought, so distinctly, that +Augusta must recognize him at once--so she concluded by saying, + +"And now I need not name him, as you must know who I mean." + +"I must know who she means!" said Augusta, much perplexed. "Why I am +sure I cannot imagine who she means! Talented, agreeable, with +cultivated tastes! Who can it be? 'Not handsome, but very +gentlemanlike-looking.' Well, I have no idea who it is--I certainly +cannot know the man. But as we sail next week, I shall be at home in +time for the wedding. How odd that I should be really her bridemaid in +May after all!" + +Miss Lenox arrived about two months after Angila's engagement had been +announced, and found her friend brilliant with happiness. After the +first exclamations and greetings, Augusta said with impatient +curiosity, + +"But who is it, Angila--you never told me?" + +"But surely you guessed at once," said Angila, incredulously. + +"No, indeed," replied her friend, earnestly, "I have not the most +distant idea." + +"Why, Robert Hazlewood, to be sure!" + +"Robert Hazlewood! Oh, Angila! You are jesting," exclaimed her friend, +thrown quite off her guard by astonishment. + +"Yes, indeed!" replied Angila, with eager delight, attributing +Augusta's surprise and incredulous tones to quite another source. "You +may well be surprised, Augusta. Is it not strange that such a man--one +of his superior talents--should have fallen in love with such a +mad-cap as me." + +Augusta could hardly believe her ears. But the truth was, that Angila +had so long since forgotten her prejudice, founded on nothing, against +Hazlewood, that she was not conscious now that she had ever +entertained any such feelings. She was not obliged, in common phrase, +to "eat her own words," for she quite forgot that she had ever uttered +them. And now, with the utmost enthusiasm, she entered into all her +plans and prospects--told Augusta, with the greatest interest, as if +she thought the theme must be equally delightful to her friend--all +her mother's long story about the old Hazlewoods, and what a "charming +nice family they were," ("those pattern people that she hated so," as +Augusta remembered, but all of which was buried in the happiest +oblivion with Angila,) and the dear little house that was being +furnished like a bijou next to Mrs. Constant's, (next to Mrs. +Constant's!--one of those small houses with low ceilings! Augusta +gasped;) and how many servants she was going to keep; and what a nice +young girl she had engaged already as waiter. + +"You mean, then, to have a woman waiter?" Augusta could not help +saying. + +"Oh, to be sure!" said Angila. "What should I do with a man in such a +pretty little establishment as I mean to have. And then you know we +must be economical--Mr. Hazlewood is a young lawyer, and I don't mean +to let him slave himself to make the two ends meet. You'll see what a +nice economical little housekeeper I'll be." + +And, in short, Augusta found that the same bright, warm imagination +that had made Angila once dream of Ossian-heroes, now endowed Robert +Hazlewood with every charm she wanted, and even threw a romantic glow +over a small house, low ceilings, small economies, and all but turned +the woman-servant into a man. Cinderella's godmother could hardly have +done more. Such is the power of love! + +"Well," said Augusta, in talking it all over with her brother, "I +cannot comprehend it yet; Angila, who used to be so fastidious, so +critical, who expected so much in the man she was to marry!" + +"She is not the first young lady who has come down from her pedestal," +replied her brother, laughing. + +"No, but she has not," returned Augusta, "that's the oddest part of +the whole--she has only contrived somehow to raise Hazlewood on a +pedestal, too. You'd think they were the only couple in the world +going to be married. She's actually in love with him, desperately in +love with him; and it was only just before I went to New Orleans that +she said--" + +"My dear," interrupted her mother, "there's no subject on which women +change their minds oftener than on this. Love works wonders--indeed, +the only miracles left in the world are of his creation." + +"But she used to wonder at Mary Morton's liking him, mamma." + +"Ah, my dear," replied her mother, "that was when he was attentive to +Mary Morton and not her. It makes a wonderful difference when the +thing becomes personal. And if you really love Angila, my dear, you +will forget, or at least not repeat, what she said six months before +marriage." + + + + +A NEW ENGLAND LEGEND + +BY CAROLINE F. ORNE. + +[The subject of the following ballad may be found in the "Christus +Super Aquas" of Mather's Magnalia.] + + + "God's blessing on the bonny barque!" the gallant seamen cried, + As with her snowy sails outspread she cleft the yielding tide-- + "God's blessing on the bonny barque!" cried the landsmen from the shore, + As with a swallow's rapid flight she skimmed the waters o'er. + Oh never from the good old Bay, a fairer ship did sail, + Or in more trim and brave array did court the favoring gale. + Cheerily sung the marinere as he climbed the high, high mast, + The mast that was made of the Norway pine, that scorned the mountain-blast. + But brave Mark Edward dashed a tear in secret from his eye, + As he saw green Trimount dimmer grow against the distant sky, + And fast before the gathering breeze his noble vessel fly. + Oh, youth will cherish many a hope, and many a fond desire, + And nurse in secret in the heart the hidden altar-fire! + And though young Mark Edward trode his deck with footstep light and free, + Yet a shadow was on his manly brow as his good ship swept the sea; + A shadow was on his manly brow as he marked the fading shore, + And the faint line of the far green hills where dwelt his loved Lenore. + Merrily sailed the bonny barque toward her destined port, + And the white waves curled around her prow as if in wanton sport. + Merrily sailed the bonny barque till seven days came and past, + When her snowy canvas shivered and rent before the northern blast, + And out of her course, and away, away, careered she wild and fast. + Black lowered the heavens, loud howled the winds, as the gallant barque + drove on, + "God save her from the stormy seas," prayed the sailors every one, + But hither and thither the mad winds bore her, careening wildly on. + Oh, a fearful thing is the mighty wind as it raves the land along, + And the forests rock beneath the shock of the fierce blasts and the strong, + But when the wild and angry waves come rushing on their prey, + And to and fro the good ship reels with the wind's savage play, + Oh! then it is more fearful far in that frail barque to be, + At the mercy of the wind and wave, alone upon the sea. + Mark Edward's eye grew stern and calm as day by day went on, + And farther from the destined port the gallant barque was borne. + From her tall masts the sails were rent, yet fast and far she flew, + But whither she drove there knew not one among her gallant crew, + Nor the captain, nor the marineres, not one among them knew. + Now there had come and past away full many weary days, + And each looked in each other's face with sad and blank amaze, + For ghastly Famine's bony hand was stretched to clutch his prey, + And still the adverse winds blew on as they would blow alway. + And dark and fearful whispered words from man to man went past, + As of some dread and fatal deed which they must do at last. + And night and morn and noon they prayed, oh blessed voice of prayer! + That God would bring their trembling souls out of this great despair. + And every straining eye was bent out o'er the ocean-wave, + But they saw no sail, there came no ship the storm-tost barque to save. + The fatal die was cast at length; and tears filled every eye + As forth a gentle stripling slept and gave himself to die. + They looked upon his pure white brow, and his face so fair to see, + And all with one accord cried out, "Oh, God! this must not be!" + And brave Mark Edward calmly said, "Let the lot fall on me." + "Not so," the generous youth exclaimed, "of little worth am I, + But 'twould strike the life from out us all were it thy lot to die." + "Let us once more entreat the Lord; he yet our souls may spare," + And kneeling down the gray-haired man sent up a fervent prayer. + Oh mighty is the voice of prayer! to him that asks is given, + And as to Israel of old was manna sent from heaven, + So now their prayer was answered, for, leaping from the sea, + A mighty fish fell in their midst, where they astonished be. + "Now glory to the Father be, and to the Son be praise! + Upon the deep He walketh, in the ocean are His ways, + 'Tis meet that we should worship Him who doeth right always." + And then from all that noble crew a hymn of joy arose-- + It flowed from grateful hearts as free as running water flows. + + Day after day still passed away, gaunt Famine pressed again, + Each turned away from each, as if smit with a sudden pain. + They feared to meet each other's eyes and read the secret there, + And each his pangs in silence strove a little yet to bear. + The eye grew dim with looking out upon the weary main, + Wave rolling after wave was all that answered back again. + But night and morn and noon they prayed--oh blessed voice of prayer! + That God would bring their trembling souls out of this great despair. + Again the fatal die was cast; a man of powerful frame + Slowly and with reluctant step to the dread summons came. + Large drops of anguish on his brow--his lips were white with fear-- + Oh 'tis a dreadful death to die! Is there no succor near? + They looked around on every side, but saw no sight of cheer. + "It is not for myself I dread," the sailor murmured low, + "But for my wife and little babes, oh what a tale of wo!" + "It shall not be," Mark Edward cried, "for their dear sakes go free. + I have no wife to mourn my fate, let the lot fall on me." + "Not so, oh generous and brave!" the sailor grateful said, + "The lot is mine, but cheer thou her and them when I am dead." + And turning with a calmer front he bade the waiting crew + What not themselves but fate compelled, to haste and quickly do. + But who shall do the dismal work? The innocent life who take? + One after one each shrunk away, but no word any spake. + Still hunger pressed them sore, and pangs too dreadful to be borne. + "Be merciful, oh Father, hear! To thee again we turn." + Then in their agony they strove, and wrestled long in prayer, + Till suddenly they heard a sound come from the upper air, + A sound of rushing wings, and lo! oh sight of joy! on high + A great bird circles round the masts, and ever draws more nigh. + In lightning play of hope and fear one breathless moment passed, + The next, the bird has lighted down and settled on the mast. + And soon within his grasp secure a seaman holds him fast. + "Now glory be unto our God--and to His name be praise! + Upon the deep he walketh, in the ocean are his ways, + From ghastly fear our suppliant souls he royally hath freed, + And sent us succor from the air in this our sorest need." + + But day by day still passed away, and Famine fiercer pressed, + And still the adverse winds blew on and knew no change or rest. + Yet strove they in their agony to let no murmuring word + Against the good and gracious Lord, from out their lips be heard. + But with their wildly gleaming eyes they gazed out o'er the main. + Wave rolling after wave was all that answered back again. + On the horizon's distant verge not even a speck was seen, + But the cresting foam of breaking waves still shimmering between. + And fiercer yet, as hour by hour went slowly creeping by, + The famine wrung their tortured frames till it were bliss to die. + And hopes of further aid grew faint, and it did seem that they + Out on the waste of waters wide of Heaven forgotten lay. + But night and morn and noon they prayed--oh blessed voice of prayer! + That God would save their trembling souls out of this great despair. + Again the fatal die was cast, and 'mid a general gloom, + Mark Edward calmly forward came to meet the appointed doom. + But when they saw his noble port, and his manly bearing brave, + Each would have given up his life that bold young heart to save. + They would have wept, but their hot eyes refused the grateful tear, + Yet with sorrowful and suppliant looks they drew themselves more near. + Mark Edward turned aside and spoke in accents calm and low, + Unto a man with silver hair, whose look was full of wo, + And bade him if the Lord should spare, and they should reach the shore, + To bear a message from his lips to his beloved Lenore. + "Tell her my thoughts were God's and hers," the brave young spirit cried, + "Tell her not how it came to pass, say only that I died." + Then with a brief and earnest prayer his soul to God he gave, + Beseeching that the sacrifice the lives of all might save. + Each looked on each, but not a hand would strike the fatal blow, + It was a death pang but to think what hand should lay him low. + And sick at heart they turned away their misery to bear, + And wrestled once again with God in agony of prayer. + As drops of blood wrung from the heart fell each imploring word, + Oh, God of Heaven! and can it be such prayer is still unheard? + They strained once more each aching orb out o'er the gloomy main, + Wave rolling after wave was all that answered back again. + They waited yet--they lingered yet--they searched the horizon round, + No sight of land, no blessed sail, no living thing was found. + They lingered yet--hope faded fast from out the hearts of all. + They waited yet--till black Despair sunk o'er them like a pall. + They turned to where Mark Edward stood with his unblenching brow, + Or he must die their lives to save, or all must perish now. + They lingered yet--they waited yet--a sudden shriek rung out-- + "A sail! A sail! Oh, blessed Lord!" burst forth one joyful shout. + New strength those famished men received; fervent their thanks, but brief-- + They man their boat, they reach the ship, they ask a swift relief. + Strange faces meet their view, they hear strange words in tongues unknown, + And evil eyes with threatening gaze are sternly looking down. + They pause--for a new terror bids their hearts' warm current freeze, + For they have met a pirate ship, the scourge of all the seas. + But up and out Mark Edward spake, and in the pirates' tongue, + And when the pirate captain heard, quick to his side he sprung, + And vowed by all the saints of France--the living and the dead-- + There should not even a hair be harmed upon a single head, + For once, when in a dismal strait, Mark Edward gave him aid, + And now the debt long treasured up should amply be repaid. + He gave them water from his casks, and bread, and all things store, + And showed them how to lay their course to reach the destined shore. + And the blessing of those famished men went with him evermore. + + Again the favoring gale arose, the barque went bounding on, + And speedily her destined port was now in safety won. + And after, when green Trimount's hills greet their expectant eyes, + New thanks to Heaven, new hymns of joy unto the Lord arise. + For glory be unto our Lord, and to His name be praise! + Upon the deep he walketh, in the ocean are his ways. + 'Tis meet that we should worship him who doeth right always. + + + + +SONG OF SLEEP. + +BY G. G. FOSTER. + + + Oh the dreamy world of sleep for me, + With its visions pure and bright,-- + Its fairy throngs in revelry, + Under the pale moonlight! + Sleep, sleep, I wait for thy spell, + For my eyes are heavy with watching well + For the starry night, and the world of dreams + That ever in sleep on my spirit beams. + + The day, the day, I cannot 'bide, + 'Tis dull and dusty and drear-- + And, owl-like, away from the sun I hide, + That in dreams I may wander freer. + Sleep, sleep, come to my eyes-- + Welcome as blue to the midnight skies-- + Faithful as dew to drooping flowers-- + I only live in thy dreamy bowers. + + The sun is purpling down the west, + Day's death-robes glitter fair, + And weary men, agasp for rest, + For the solemn night prepare. + Sleep, sleep, hasten to me! + The shadows lengthen across the lea; + The birds are weary, and so am I; + Tired world and dying day good-bye! + + + + +THE CRUISE OF THE RAKER. + +A TALE OF THE WAR OF 1812-15. + +BY HENRY A. CLARK. + +(_Continued from page_ 74.) + + +CHAPTER III. + +_The Chase and the Capture._ + +On the deck of the pirate craft stood a young man of powerful frame, +and singularly savage features, rendered more repulsive by the +disposition of the hair which was allowed to grow almost over the +entire mouth, and hung from the chin in heavy masses nearly to the +waist. With his elbow resting against the fore-mast of the vessel, he +was gazing through a spy-glass upon the brig he had been so long +pursuing. A burly negro stood at the helm, holding the tiller, and +steering the brig with an ease which denoted his vast strength, +scarcely moving his body, but meeting the long waves, which washed +over the side of the vessel, and rushed in torrents through the +hawse-holes, merely by the power of his arm. + +"Keep her more in the wind," shouted the commander, with an oath, to +the helmsman. + +"Ay, ay sir," responded the negro gruffly. + +"Don't let me hear a sail flap again or I'll score your back for you, +you son of a sea-cook." + +With this pleasant admonition the young man resumed his night-glass. + +The captain of the pirate brig was an Englishman by birth; his history +was little known even to his own crew, but it was remarkable that +though always savage and blood-thirsty, he was peculiarly so to his +own countrymen, evincing a hatred and malignancy toward every thing +connected with his native land, that seemed more than fiendish--never +smiling but when his sword was red with the blood of his countrymen, +and his foot planted upon her conquered banner. It was evident that +some deep wrong had driven him forth to become an outcast and a fiend. +A close inspection of his features developed the outlines of a noble +countenance yet remaining, though marred and deformed by years of +passion and of crime. His crew, which numbered nearly fifty, were +gathered from almost every nation of the civilized world, yet were all +completely under his command. They were now scattered over the vessel +in various lounging attitudes, apparently careless of every thing +beyond the ease of the passing moment, leaving the management of the +brig to the two or three hands necessary to control the graceful and +obedient craft. + +For long hours the captain of the pirate brig stood following the +motions of the flying merchantman; he thought not of sleep or of +refreshment, it was enough for him that he was in pursuit of an +English vessel, that his revenge was again to be gratified with +English blood. + +He was roused by a light touch of the arm--he turned impatiently. + +"Why, Florette." + +A beautiful girl stood beside him, gazing into his face half with fear +and half with love. Her dress was partly that of a girl and partly of +a boy; over a pair of white loose sailor's trowsers a short gown was +thrown, fastened with a blue zone, and her long hair fell in thick, +luxuriant masses from beneath a gracefully shaped little straw +hat--altogether she was as lovely in feature and form as Venus +herself, with an eye blue as the ocean, and a voice soft and sweet as +the southern breeze. + +"Dear William, will you not go below and take some rest?" + +"I want none, girl; I shall not sleep till every man on yonder vessel +has gone to rest in the caves of ocean." + +"But you will eat?" + +"Pshaw! Florette, leave me; your place is below." + +The girl said no more, but slowly glided to the companion-way and +disappeared into the little cabin. + +The long night at length wore away, and as the clear light of morning +shone upon the waters the merchant vessel was no longer visible from +the deck of the pirate. + +"A thousand devils! has he escaped me. Ho! the one of you with the +sharpest eyes up to the mast-head. Stay, I will go myself." + +Thus speaking, the captain mounted the main-mast and gazed long and +anxiously; he could see nothing of the vessel. He mounted still +higher, climbing the slender top-mast till with his hand resting upon +the main-truck he once more looked over the horizon. Thus far his gaze +had been directed to windward, in the course where the vanished brig +had last been seen. At length he turned to leeward, and far in the +distant horizon his eagle eye caught faint sight of a sail, like the +white and glancing wing of a bird. With wonderful rapidity he slid to +the deck, and gave orders to set the brig before the wind. The +beautiful little bark fell off gracefully, and in a moment was swiftly +retracing the waters it had beaten over during the night. + +"The revenge will be no less sweet that it is deferred," exclaimed the +pirate captain, as he threw himself upon the companion-way. "Thirty +English vessels have I sunk in the deep, and I am not yet +satisfied--no, no, curses on her name, curses on her laws, they have +driven me forth from a lordly heritage and an ancient name to die an +outcast and a pirate." + +Pulling his hat over his dark brow, he sat long in deep thought, and +not one in all his savage crew but would have preferred to board a +vessel of twice their size than to rouse his commander from his +thoughtful mood. + +Captain Horton for some hours after it had become dark the preceding +night, had kept his vessel on the same course, perplexing his mind +with some scheme by which he might deceive the pirate. At length he +gave orders to lower away the yawl boat, and fit a mast to it, which +was speedily done. When all was ready, he hung a lantern to the mast, +with a light that would burn but a short time, and then putting out +his own ship-light, he fastened the tiller of the yawl and set it +adrift, knowing that it would keep its course until some sudden gust +of wind should overcome its steerage way. As soon as he had +accomplished this, he fell off before the wind, and setting his brig +on the opposite tack, as soon as he had got to a good distance from +the light of the yawl, took in all sail till not a rag was left +standing. He kept his brig in this position until he had the +satisfaction of seeing the pirate brig pass to windward in pursuit of +his boat, whose light he knew would go out before the pirate could +overtake it. When the light of the chase had become faint in the +distance, he immediately crowded on all sail, and stood off boldly on +his original course. + +None of his crew had gone below to turn in, for all were too anxious +to sleep, and his passengers still stood beside him upon the +quarter-deck; John with a large bundle under his arm, which, in answer +to an inquiry from the merchant, he said was merely a change of dress. + +"I think we have given them the slip this time, Mr. Williams," said +Captain Horton. + +"I hope so, captain." + +"You can sleep now without danger of being disturbed by unwelcome +visiters, Miss Julia." + +"Well, captain, I am as glad as my father you have escaped. I wish we +had got near enough to see how they looked though." + +"We ought rather, my dear girl, to thank God that they came no nearer +than they did," said her father half reproachfully. + +"True, father, true," and bidding Captain Horton good-night, they +retired to the cabin. + +"You did fool them nice, didn't you, captin?" said John. + +"Yes, John, it was tolerably well done, I think myself," replied the +captain, who, like all of mankind, was more or less vain, and prided +himself peculiarly upon his skill in his own avocation. + +"I shouldn't ha' been much afraid on 'em myself if they had caught +us," said John. + +"You wouldn't, ah!" + +"No! I should ha' hated to see all the crew walk on the plank as they +call it, specially Dick Halyard, but I thinks I should ha' come it +over 'em myself." + +"Well, John, I hope you'll never have such occasion to try your powers +of deceit, for I fear you would find yourself wofully mistaken." + +"Perhaps not, captin, but I'm confounded sleepy, now we've got away +from the bloody pirates, so I'll just lie down here, captin; I haint +learned to sleep in a hammock yet. I wish you'd let me have a berth, +captin, I hate lying in a circle, it cramps a fellow plaguily." + +John talked himself to sleep upon the companion-way, where the +good-natured master of the brig allowed him to remain unmolested, and +soon after yielding the helm to one of the mates, himself "turned in." + +As the morning broke over the sea clear and cloudless, while not a +sail was visible in any quarter of the horizon, the revulsion of +feeling occasioned by the transition from despair to confidence, and +indeed entire assurance of safety, was plainly depicted in the joyous +countenances of all on the Betsy Allen. The worthy captain made no +endeavor to check the boisterous merriment of his crew, but lighting +his pipe, seated himself upon the companion-way, with a complacent +smile expanding his sun-browned features, which developed itself into +a self-satisfied and happy laugh as Mr. Williams appeared at the +cabin-door, leading up his daughter to enjoy the pure morning air, +fresh from the clear sky and the bounding waters. + +"Ha! ha! Mr. Williams, told you so, not a sail in sight, and a fine +breeze." + +"Our thanks are due to you, Captain Horton, for the skillful manner in +which you eluded the pirate ship." + +"Oh! I was as glad to get out of sight of the rascal as you could have +been, my dear sir, I assure you; now that we are clear of him, I ain't +afraid to tell Miss Julia that if he had overhauled us we should have +all gone to Davy Jones' locker, and the Betsy Allen would by this time +have been burnt to the water's edge." + +"I was not ignorant of the danger at any time, Captain Horton." + +"Well, you are a brave girl, and deserve to be a sailor's wife, but +I'm married myself." + +"That is unfortunate, captain," said Julia, with a merry laugh, so +musical in its intonations that the rough sailors who heard its sweet +cadence could not resist the contagion, and a bright smile lit up each +weather-beaten countenance within the sound of the merry music. + +"Well, I think so myself, though I wouldn't like Mrs. Horton to hear +me say it, or I should have a rougher breeze to encounter than I ever +met round Cape Horn--ha! ha! ha! You must excuse me, Miss Julia, but I +feel in fine spirits this morning, not a sail in sight." + +"Sail ho!" shouted the look-out from the main cross-trees. + +"Ah!--where away?" + +"Right astern." + +"Can it be that they have got in our wake again. I'll mount to the +mast-head and see myself." + +Seizing the glass the captain ascended to the cross-trees, where he +remained for a long time, watching the distant sail. At length he +returned to the deck. + +"They've got our bearings again somehow, confound the cunning rascals; +and, by the way they are overhauling us, I judge they can beat us as +well afore the wind as on a tack." + +"Well, Captain Horton, we must be resigned to our fate then. It +matters not so much for me, but it is hard, my daughter, that you +should be torn from your peaceful home in England to fall a prey to +these fiends." + +"They are a long way from us yet, father; let us hope something may +happen for our relief, and not give up till we are taken." + +"That's the right feeling, Miss Julia," said the captain. "I will do +all I can to prolong the chase, and we will trust in God for the +result." + +Every device which skillful seamanship could practice was put in +immediate operation to increase the speed of the brig. There was but a +solitary hope remaining, that they might fall in with some national +vessel able to protect them from the pirate. The sails were frequently +wet, the halyards drawn taut, and the captain himself took the helm. +When all this was done, each sailor stood gazing upon the pirate as if +to calculate the speed of his approach by the lifting of his sails +above the water. The greater part of his top-sails were already in +sight, and soon the heads of her courses appeared above the wave, +seeming to sweep up like the long, white wings of a lazy bird, whose +flight clung to the breast of the sea, as if seeking a resting-place. + +By the middle of the day the pirate was within three miles of the +merchantman, and had already opened upon her with his long gun. +Captain Horton pressed onward without noticing the balls, which as yet +had not injured hull or sail. But as the chase approached nearer and +nearer, the shots began to take effect--a heavy ball made a huge rent +in the mizzen-topsail--another dashed in the galley, and a third tore +up the companion-way, and still another cut down the fore-topmast, and +materially decreased the speed of the vessel. + +Noticing this the pirate ceased his fire, and soon drew up within hail +of the merchantman. + +"Ship ahoy--what ship?" + +"The Betsy Allen, London." + +"Lay-by till I send a boat aboard." + +Captain Horton gave orders to his crew to wait the word of command +before they altered the vessel's course, and then seizing the trumpet, +hailed the pirate. + +"What ship's that?" + +"The brig Death--don't you see the flag?" + +"I know the character of your ship, doubtless." + +"Well, lay-by, or we'll bring you to with a broadside." + +Perceiving the inutility of further effort, Captain Horton brought-to, +and hauled down his flag. + +In a short time the jolly-boat of the pirate was lowered from the +stern, and the commander jumped in, followed by a dozen of his crew. + +The vigorous arms of the oarsmen soon brought the boat to the +merchantman, and the pirate stood upon the deck of the captured +vessel. + +"Well, sir, you have given us some trouble to overhaul you," said he, +in a manner rather gentlemanly than savage. + +"We should have been fools if we had not tried our best to escape." + +"True, true--will you inform me how you eluded our pursuit last night. +I ask merely from motives of curiosity?" + +Captain Horton briefly related the deception of the boat. + +"Ah! ha! very well done. Here Diego," said he to one of the sailors +who had followed him, "go below and bring up the passengers." + +The swarthy rascal disappeared with a malignant grin through the +cabin-door, and speedily escorted Mr. Williams to the deck, followed +by Julia, and, to the surprise of Captain Horton and his crew, another +female. + +"Now, captain," said the pirate, with a fiendish smile, "I shall +proceed to convey your merchandize to my brig, including these two +ladies, though, by my faith, we shall have little use for one of them. +After which I will leave you in quiet." + +"I could expect no better terms," said Captain Horton, resignedly. + +"O, you will soon be relieved from my presence." + +Julia clung to her father, but was torn from his grasp, and the good +old man was pushed back by the laughing fiends, as he attempted to +follow her to the boat. The father and daughter parted with a look of +strong anguish, relieved in the countenance of Julia by a deep +expression of firmness and resolution. + +John was also seized by the pirates, but he had overheard the words of +their captain that they would soon be left in quiet, and had already +commenced throwing off his woman's dress. + +"Hillo! is the old girl going to strip? Bear a hand here, Mike," +shouted Diego, to one of his comrades, "just make fast those +tow-lines, and haul up her rigging." + +Mr. Williams, who immediately conceived the possible advantage it +might be to Julia to have even so inefficient a protector with her as +John, addressed him in a stern tone. + +"What, will you desert your mistress?" + +John stood in doubt, but he was a kind-hearted fellow, and loved Julia +better than he did any thing else in the world except himself; and +without further resistance or explanation, allowed himself to be +conveyed to the boat, though the big tears rolled down his cheeks, and +nothing even then would have prevented his avowing his original sex, +but a strong feeling of shame at the thought of leaving Julia. + +For hours the pirate's jolly-boat passed backward and forward between +the two brigs; the sea had become too rough to allow the vessels to be +fastened together without injury to the light frame of the pirate +bark; and night had already set in before all the cargo which the +pirates desired had been removed from the merchantman; but it was at +length accomplished, and once more the pirates stood upon the deck of +their own brig. + +In a few words their captain explained his plan of destruction to his +crew, which was willingly assented to, as it was sufficiently cruel +and vindictive. Three loud cheers burst from their lips, startling the +crew of the Betsey Allen with its wild cadence, and in another moment +the pirate-captain leaped into his boat, and followed by a number of +his crew, returned to the merchantman. + +Still preserving his suavity of manner, he addressed Captain Horton as +he stepped upon the deck, after first ordering the crew to the bows, +and drawing up his own men with pointed muskets before the +companion-way. + +"Captain Horton, as you are, perhaps, aware it is our policy to act +upon the old saying that 'dead men tell no tales,' and after +consultation among ourselves, we have concluded to set your vessel on +fire, and then depart in peace, leaving you to the quiet I promised +you." + +"Blood-thirsty villain!" shouted the captain of the merchantman, and +suddenly drawing a pistol, he discharged it full at the pirate's +breast. The latter was badly wounded, but falling back against the +main-mast, was able to order his men to pursue their original design +before he fell fainting in the arms of one of his men, who immediately +conveyed him to the boat. + +The savages proceeded then to fire the vessel in several different +places, meeting with no resistance from the crew, as a dozen muskets +pointed at their heads admonished them that immediate death would be +the consequence. + +As soon as the subtle element had so far progressed in its work of +destruction that the hand of man could not stay it, the pirates jumped +into their boat, and with a fiendish yell, pulled off for their own +vessel. + +For a very short time the crew of the merchantman stood watching the +flame and smoke which was fast encircling them, then rousing their +native energies, and perceiving the utter impossibility of conquering +the fire, they turned their attention to the only resource left--the +construction of some sort of a raft that would sustain their united +weight. + +The progress of the flames, however, was so rapid, that though a score +of busy hands were employed with axes and hatchets, the most that +could be done was to hurl overboard a few spars and boards, cut away +the bowsprit and part of the bulwarks, before the exceeding heat +compelled them to leave the brig. + +Mr. Williams, who had remained in a state of stupor since the loss of +his daughter, was borne to the ship's side, and hurriedly fastened to +a spar; and then all the crew boldly sprung into the water, and +pushing the fragments of boards and spars from the burning brig, as +soon as they attained a safe distance, commenced the construction of +their raft in the water. This was an exceedingly difficult +undertaking; but they were working with the energies of despair, and +board after board was made fast by means of the rope they had thrown +over with themselves; and in the light of their burning vessel they +managed at length to build a raft sufficiently strong to bear their +weight. + +Then seating themselves upon it, they almost gave way to despair; they +had lost the excitement of occupation, and now, in moody silence, +watched the mounting flames. They were without food, and the sea ran +high; their condition did, indeed, seem hopeless--and their only +refuge, death. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +_The Escape._ + +The fire had made swift work during the time the unfortunate crew were +occupied in building the raft, and the little brig was now almost +enveloped in smoke and flame. A burst of fire from her main hatchway +threw a red glare over the turbulent waters, and showed the vessel's +masts and rigging brightly displayed against the dark sky above and +beyond them. The main-sail by this time caught fire, and was blazing +away along the yard fiercely; and the flame soon reached the loftier +sails and running rigging; the fire below was raging between decks, +and rising in successive bursts of flame from the hatchways. The +vessel had been filled with combustible material, and the doomed brig, +in a short space of time, was one mass of flame. + +To a spectator beholding the sight in safety, it would have been a +magnificent spectacle--the grandest, the most terrific, perhaps, it is +possible to conceive--a ship on fire at night in the mid-ocean. The +hull of the vessel lay flaming like an immense furnace on the surface +of the deep; her masts, and the lower and topsail-yards, with +fragments of the rigging hanging round them, sparkling, and scattering +the fire-flakes, rose high above it, while huge volumes of smoke ever +and anon obscured the whole, then borne away by the strong breeze, +left the burning brig doubly distinct, placed in strong relief against +the dark vault of heaven behind. The lofty spars, as their fastenings +were burnt through, fell, one by one, into the hissing water, and at +length the tall masts, no longer supported by the rigging, and nearly +burnt into below the deck, fell over, one after the other, into the +deep. + +Suddenly Captain Horton started to his feet, + +"It is, it is a sail--look, do you now see it coming up in the light +of the brig?" + +"It is so, captain," responded his men one after the other. + +"Thank God we shall yet be saved! If the pirate had scuttled the ship +we should have had no chance; but his cruel course has saved us, for +the flame has attracted some vessel to our succor." + +"Perhaps the pirate returning," remarked Mr. Williams. + +"No, that kept on before the wind, and this is coming up. God grant it +be an English vessel, and a swift one, and we may yet save your +daughter!" + +This remark struck a chord of hope in the heart of Mr. Williams, and +roused him to his native manliness. + +"But," said he, "our own vessel has drifted far from us, and we shall +not be seen by this one." + +"I think they will come within hail; they will at least sail round the +burning vessel, in the hopes of picking up somebody. Come, my men, +let's make some kind of sail of our jackets, a half a mile nearer the +ship may save us all our lives." + +With a cheer as merry as ever broke from their lips when on board +ship, the reanimated sailors went to work, and soon reared a small +sail made of their clothing, which caught enough wind to move them +slowly onward. + +"Steer in the wake of our own vessel, my men, and the strange sail +will come right on to us--get between them." + +"Ay, ay, sir!" + +As the approaching vessel drew nearer, the crew of the Betsy Allen +sent up a cheer from their united voices which, to their great joy, +was answered from the strange sail. + +"Ahoy, where away?" + +"Three points on your weather bow--starboard your helm, and you'll be +on us." + +"Ay, ay." + +In a very short time the shipwrecked crew stood on the deck of the +privateer Raker, which, attracted by the light of their burning brig, +had varied somewhat from its course, to render assistance if any were +needed. Captain Greene and his men soon became acquainted with the +history of the crew of the lost brig, and every attention was shown to +them. + +Captain Horton gave them a brief account of the pirate's assault, and +the abduction of Julia. + +"O Captain Greene, save my child, if possible. She is my only one," +exclaimed Mr. Williams. + +"Which way did she steer, Captain Horton?" + +"She went off right before the wind, sir, and is not three hours ahead +of us." + +"Mr. Williams I will immediately give chase, and God grant that I may +overtake the scoundrels." + +"A father's thanks shall be yours, sir." + +"Never mind that--you had all better turn in; I will steer the same +course with the pirate till morning, sir; and if he is then in sight, +I think he is ours--for there are few things afloat that can outsail +the Raker." + +The crew of the Betsy Allen, whose anxiety and exertions during the +last few hours had been excessive, gladly accepted the captain's +offer, and were soon snoring in their hammocks. Captain Horton and Mr. +Williams remained on the deck of the Raker, the one too anxious for +revenge upon the pirate who had destroyed his brig, to sleep, and the +other too much afflicted by the loss of his daughter, and the painful +thoughts which it engendered, to think of any thing but her speedy +recovery. + +The long night at length wore away, and with the first beams of the +morning sun the mists rolled heavily upward from the ocean. To the +great joy of all on board the Raker, the pirate-brig was in sight, +though beyond the reach of shot from the privateer. + +Although the captain of the Raker had sufficient confidence in the +superior speed of his own vessel, yet to avoid the possibility of +being deceived, he decided to pretend flight, well assured that the +pirate would give chase. He accordingly bore off, as if anxious to +avoid speaking him, and displaying every sign of fear, had the +satisfaction of perceiving the pirate change his course, and set all +sail in pursuit. + +In order to test the relative speed of the two vessels he did not at +first slacken his own sail, but put his brig to its swiftest pace. He +had reason to congratulate himself upon the wisdom of his manoeuvre +when he perceived that in spite of every exertion the chase gained +upon him, and it was evident that unless he was crippled by a shot, he +might yet escape. + +As the pirate bore down upon his brig, Captain Greene perceived, by +aid of his glass, that the number of the crew on board was +considerably superior to his own, even with the addition of the crew +of the Betsy Allen. In consideration of this fact, he determined to +fight her at a distance with his long gun. This he still kept +concealed amidships, under the canvas, desiring to impress fully upon +his opponent the idea of his inferiority. + +Leaving the vessels thus situated, let us visit the pirate again. + +Julia, and John in his disguise, were conveyed to his deck, where they +were speedily separated. Julia was conducted below, where, to her +surprise and joy, she found a companion of her own sex, in the person +of Florette. + +The wounded commander of the pirate was also conveyed to his berth, +where Florette, with much grief, attended to nurse him. It was in her +first passionate burst of sorrow that Julia discovered her love for +the pirate, from which circumstance she also derived consolation and +relief; and having already, with the natural firmness of her mind, +shaken off the deep despondency which had settled upon it when first +torn from her father, she began to resolve upon the course of action +she would pursue, in every probable event which might befall her. + +During the long night the pirate lay groaning and helpless; but such +was the strength of his will, and the all absorbing nature of his +hatred, that when informed on the succeeding morning that a vessel was +in sight, he aroused his physical powers sufficiently to reach the +deck, where, seating himself on the companion-way, he watched the +strange sail with an interest so intense, that he almost forgot his +painful wounds. + +He had hardly taken his position before the captain of the Raker +uncovered and ran out his long gun, and to the surprise of all on +board the pirate, a huge shot, evidently sent from a gun much larger +than they had supposed their antagonist to possess, came crashing +through their main-sail. + +Too late the pirates perceived the error into which they had fallen; +and were aware of the immense advantage which the long gun gave their +opponent, enabling him, in fact, to maintain his own position beyond +the reach of their fire, and at the same time cut every mast and spar +on board the pirate-brig to pieces, unless, indeed, the latter might +be fortunate enough, by superior sailing, to get beyond the reach of +shot without suffering material injury. + +Perceiving this to be his only resource, orders were given on board +the pirate again to 'bout ship, and instead of pursuing to be +themselves in turn fugitives. But they were not destined to escape +without injury. Another shot from the Raker bore away their +foretop-sail, and sensibly checked their speed. To remedy this +misfortune, studding-sails were set below and aloft, and for a long +time the chase was continued without the shot from the Raker taking +serious effect on the pirate; and, indeed, the latter in a +considerable degree increased the distance between the two vessels. +But while the captain and crew of the Raker were confident of +eventually overtaking their antagonist, the men in the pirate-brig had +already become convinced that in such a harassing and one-sided mode +of warfare, they stood no chance whatever, and demanded of their +captain that he should make the attempt to close with the Raker and +board. This he sternly refused, and pointed out to his men the folly +of such a course, as upon a nearer approach to the privateer, his +rigging and masts must necessarily suffer in such a manner as to place +his brig entirely at the command of the Raker. His men admitted the +truth of his reasoning, but at the same time evinced so much +dissatisfaction at their present vexatious situation, that their +captain plainly perceived it was necessary to pursue some course of +action to appease their turbulent spirits. + +With a clouded brow he returned to his cabin with the assistance of +Florette, who had watched with a woman's love to take advantage of +every opportunity to aid him. + +Reaching the cabin, his eyes fell upon the form of Julia, eagerly +bending from the little window as she watched the pursuing brig, +fervently praying that its chase might be successful. + +As she turned her eyes in-doors at the noise made by the entrance of +the pirate, his keen glance noticed the light of hope which shone in +her beautiful eyes, which she strove not and cared not to conceal. + +"My fair captive," said he, with a sneering smile, "do you see hope of +escape in yonder approaching vessel?" + +"My hope is in God," was the calm reply of the lovely girl. + +"That trust will fail you now, sweet lady." + +"I believe it not; when has He deserted those whose trust was in him?" + +"So have you been taught, doubtless, so you may yet believe; but you +have still to learn that if there is such a being, he meddles not with +the common purposes of man. It is his government to punish, not +prevent; and man here on earth pursues his own course, be it dark or +bright--and God's hand is not interposed to stay the natural and +inevitable workings of cause and effect. No, no! here, on this, my own +good ship, _I_ rule; and there is no hand, human or divine, that will +interpose between my determination and the execution of my purpose." + +"Impious man! you may yet learn to fear the power you now despise." + +"Ha! ha! ha!--do I look like a man to be frightened by the words of a +weak girl, or by the name of a mysterious being, whose agency I have +never seen in the workings of earthly affairs." + +"I have no mercy to expect from one who has consigned a whole ship's +crew, without remorse, to a cruel death." + +"Well, were they not Englishmen? I have not for years, lady, spared an +Englishman in my deep hatred, or an Englishwoman in my lust!" + +"Yet are they not your own countrymen?" + +"Yes." + +"Unnatural monster!" + +The pirate smiled. "I could relate a history of wrong that would +justify me even in your eyes. If I have proved a viper to my native +land, it is because her heel has crushed me--but the tale cannot be +told now. If yonder vessel overtake us, and escape become impossible, +my own hand will apply the match that shall blow up my brig, and all +it contains. Before that time you will be a dishonored woman, to whom +death were a relief. Nothing but this wound has preserved you thus +long. With this assurance I leave you." + +The pirate returned to the deck, where, notwithstanding the pain of +his injuries, he continued to take command of the brig. + +He had hardly vanished from the cabin before Florette stood by the +side of Julia. + +"Lady," said she, "I overheard your conversation with the captain of +this brig, and I pity you most truly." + +"Pity will little avail," replied Julia. + +"That is true, yet I would aid you if possible." + +"And you--do not you, too, desire to escape from this savage?" + +"Alas! lady, I have learned to love him." + +"_Love_ him!" + +"I have now been on this brig more than three years. I was taken from +a French merchant vessel in which I was proceeding to French Guinea, +to live with a relative there, having lost all my immediate kindred in +France. While crossing the Bay of Biscay, a heavy storm drove us out +to sea, and while endeavoring to return in shore, we fell in with this +vessel--all on board were murdered but myself, so I have been told. I +was borne to this cabin, which has since been my home. I was treated +with much respect by the captain, and being all alone, I don't know +why it was, I forgot all his crimes, and at length became his willing +mistress. You turn from me in disgust, and in pity--yet so it is. And +now, lady, if you are bold enough to risk your life, you may escape." + +"I would gladly give my life to save my honor." + +Florette gazed with a melancholy smile upon her companion; perhaps +thoughts of her own former purity came over her mind. + +"It is a bold plan," said she, "but it is on that account that I am +more confident of success, as all chance of escape will be deemed +hopeless." + +"What is your plan?" + +"Night is now approaching, and it is probable the pursuing brig will +not gain on us before dark. I have noticed that the ship's boat hangs +at the stern, only fastened by the painter. If you have courage enough +to descend to the boat by the painter, I will cut it, and you will +then be directly in the course of the pursuing brig, and will be +easily picked up." + +"But how can I get to the vessel's deck without being seen?" + +"I have thought of that; we will wait till dark, when you shall put on +a similar dress with mine, and then you can go to any part of the +vessel you choose without being suspected. You must watch your time to +steal unobserved behind the man at the helm, and drop yourself into +the boat; I will soon after appear on deck, and if you are successful +in escaping observation, I shall be able then to cut the painter +without difficulty, as the darkness will conceal my movements. Do you +understand the plan?" + +"I do." + +"And you are not afraid to put it into execution?" + +"Oh, no, no! and I thank you for your kind aid." + +"I am not wholly disinterested, lady; you are beautiful, and may steal +away the captain's heart from me." + +Julia shuddered. + +"Be ready," continued Florette, "and as soon as possible after it +becomes dark we will make the attempt." + +It was as Florette had called it, a bold plan, but not impracticable, +as any one acquainted with the position of things will at once +acknowledge. Only one man would be at the tiller, and he might or +might not notice the passing of any other person behind him. This +passage once accomplished, it would be an easy undertaking to slide +down the strong painter, or rope which made fast the boat to the stern +of the brig. It was a plan in which the chances were decidedly in +favor of the success of the attempt. + +The Raker had for some time ceased firing, and set studding-sails in +hopes of gaining on the pirate; but the most the privateer was able to +do, was to still preserve the relative positions of the two vessels. + +The sun sunk beneath the waters, leaving a cloudless sky shedding such +a light from its starry orbs, that if the pirate had hoped to escape +under cover of the night, he speedily saw the impossibility of such an +attempt eluding the watch from the privateer. + +The captain of the pirate still kept his position upon the +companion-way, with his head bent upon his breast, either buried in +thought, or yielding to the weakness of his physical powers, +occasioned by the loss of blood from his wound. + +Florette, who was continually passing up and down through the +cabin-door, carefully noted the state of things upon the quarter-deck, +and perceiving every thing to be as favorable as could be expected, +soon had Julia in readiness for her share in the undertaking. + +"But first," said she, "let me put out the light in the binnacle." + +The girl stood for a moment in deep thought, when her ready wit +suggested a way to accomplish this feat, sufficiently simple to avoid +suspicion. Seizing the broad palmetto hat of the pirate, and bidding +Julia to be in readiness to profit by the moment of darkness which +would ensue, she returned to the deck, and approaching the pirate, +exclaimed, + +"William, I have brought you your hat." + +At the moment of presenting it to him, as it passed the +binnacle-light, she gave it a swift motion, which at once extinguished +the flame. + +"Curses on the girl!" muttered the man at the helm. + +"O, I was careless, Diego; I will bring the lantern in a moment;" and +laying down the hat on the companion-way beside the pirate, who paid +no attention to the movements around him, she glided back to the +cabin. + +"Here, lady," said she, "be quick--hand this lantern to the man at the +helm, and then drop silently behind him while he is lighting it. I +will immediately follow and take your place beside him. You understand +me?" + +"Yes, clearly." + +"Well, as soon as I begin to speak with him, let yourself down into +the boat by the painter, which I will soon cut apart, and then you +will at least be out of the hands of your enemies." + +Julia took the hand of Florette in her own, and warmly thanked her, +but the girl impatiently checked her. + +"Take this pistol with you also." + +"But why?" inquired Julia, with a woman's instinctive dread of such +weapons. + +"O, I don't mean you should shoot any body, but if the boat drifts a +little out of the brig's course, you might not be able to make +yourself heard on her deck." + +"True, true." + +"The night is so still that a pistol-shot would be heard at a good +distance." + +"O, yes, I see it all now; I was so anxious to escape from this +terrible ship that I thought of nothing else; and there is poor John." + +"You must not think of him--it will be no worse for him if you go, no +better if you remain. Here, take the lantern--say nothing as you hand +it to the man at the tiller, but do as I told you." + +Pressing the hand of Florette, Julia mounted to the deck with a +painfully beating heart, but with a firm step. She handed the lantern +to the steersman, who received it surlily, growling some rough oath, +half to himself, at her delay, and leaning upon the tiller, proceeded +to relight the binnacle-lamp. Julia fell back cautiously, and in +another moment the light form of Florette filled her place. + +"I was very careless, Diego," said she. + +"Yes," replied he, gruffly. + +"Well, I will be more careful next time." + +"You'd better." + +Julia, during the short time of this conversation, had disappeared +over the stern, and as the vessel was sailing before a steady wind, +found little difficulty in sliding down the painter into the yawl. +She could hardly suppress an exclamation when a moment afterward she +found the ship rapidly gliding away from her, and leaving her alone +upon the waters in so frail a support. Her situation was, indeed, one +that might well appall any of her sex. To a sailor it would already +have been one of entire safety, but to her it seemed as if every +succeding wave would sink the little boat as it gracefully rose and +fell upon their swell; but seating herself by the tiller, she managed +to guide its motions, and with a calm reliance upon that God whose +supporting arm she knew to be as much around her, when alone in the +wide waste of waters, as when beside her own hearth-stone, in quiet +and happy England, she patiently awaited the issue of her bold +adventure. + +She had but a short time to wait when she perceived the dark outlines +of the Raker bearing directly down upon her. As it approached it +seemed as if it would run directly over her boat, and excited by the +fear of the moment, and the anxiety to be heard, she gave a louder +shriek than she supposed herself capable of uttering, and at the same +time fired off her pistol. + +Both were heard on board the Raker. + +"Man overboard!" shouted the look-out. + +"Woman overboard, you lubber," said a brother tar; "didn't you hear +that screech?" + +"Hard a port!" + +"Hard a port 'tis." + +"Right under the lee bow." + +"Well, pitch over a rope whoever it is. What does this mean?" said +Lieutenant Morris, as he approached the bows. + +"Can't say, sir--some deviltry of the pirates, I reckon, to make us +lose way." + +"By heavens! it is a woman," cried the lieutenant, "let me throw that +rope, we shall be on the boat in a minute. Hard a port!" + +The rope, skillfully thrown by the young lieutenant, struck directly +at the feet of Julia. With much presence of mind she gave it several +turns around one of the oar-locks, and her boat was immediately hauled +up to the side of the brig, without compelling the latter to slacken +sail. + +In another moment she was lifted to the deck of the Raker. + +"Julia! thank Heaven!" exclaimed her father. + +With a cry of joy she fainted in his arms, and was borne below, where +she speedily recovered, and related the manner of her escape from the +pirate. + +All admired the courage of the attempt, and Lieutenant Morris, as he +gazed upon the lovely countenance, which returning sensation was +restoring to all its wonted bloom and beauty, one day of intense +sorrow having left but slight traces upon it, he felt emotions to +which he had hitherto been an entire stranger, and sought the deck +with a flushed brow and animated eye, wondering at the vision of +beauty which had risen, like Cytherea, from the sea. + +[_To be continued._ + + + + +THE PRAYER OF THE DYING GIRL. + +BY SAMUEL D. PATTERSON. + + + Oh! take me back again, mother, to that home I love so well, + Whose memory rules my fluttering heart with a mysterious spell: + I think of it when lying on my weary couch of pain, + And I feel that I am dying, mother--Oh! take me home again! + + They tell me that this sunny clime strength to the wasted brings, + And the zephyr's balmy breezes come with healing on their wings; + But to me the sun's rich glow is naught--the perfumed air is vain-- + For I know that I am dying--Oh! then, take me home again! + + I long to find myself once more beside the little stream + That courses through our valley green, of which I often dream: + I fancy that a cooling draught from that sweet fount I drain-- + It stills the fever of my blood--Oh! take me home again! + + And then I lie and ponder, as I feel my life decline, + On the happy days that there I spent when health and strength were mine; + When I climbed the mountain-side, and roved the valley and the plain, + And my bosom never knew a pang of sorrow or of pain. + + And when the sun was sinking in the far and glowing west, + I came and sat me by thy side, or nestled in thy breast, + And heard thy gentle words of love, and listened to the strain + Of thy sweet favorite evening hymn--Oh! take me home again! + + How bright and joyous was my life! Night brought refreshing rest, + And morning's dawn awakened naught but rapture in my breast: + Now, sad and languid, weak and faint, I seek, but seek in vain, + To lay me down in soft repose--Oh! take me home again! + + The hand of death is laid upon thy child's devoted head-- + I feel its damp and chilling touch, so cold, so full of dread-- + It palsies every nerve of mine--it freezes every vein-- + Oh! take me then, dear mother--Oh! take me home again! + + There, with my wan brow lying on thy fond and faithful breast, + Let me calmly wait the summons that calls me to my rest: + And when the struggle's o'er, mother--the parting throe of pain-- + Thou'lt joy to know thy daughter saw her own loved home again! + + + + +A WRITTEN LEAF OF MEMORY. + +BY FANNY LEE. + + +Poor Fanny Layton! Oh! how well I remember the last time I ever saw +her! 'Twas in the dear old church whither from early childhood my +footsteps were bent. What feelings of holy awe and reverence crept +into my heart as I gazed, with eyes in which saddened tears were +welling, upon the sacred spot! How my thoughts reverted to other +days--the days of my early youth--that sweet "spring-time" of life, +when I trod the blooming pathway before me so fetterless and free, +with no overshadowing of coming ill--no anxious, fearful gazing into +the dim future, as in after years, but with the bounding step that +bespeaks the careless joyousness which Time, oh all too soon! brushes +from the heart with "rude, relentless wing." How eagerly I would +strive to subdue my impatient footsteps then to the calmer pace of +more thoughtful years, as I gradually drew nearer to the holy +sanctuary, although mine eyes would oft, despite my utmost endeavors, +wander to the eaves of that time-worn, low-browed church, to watch the +flight of the twittering host who came forth, I fancied, at my +approach to bid me welcome! How I would cast one "longing, lingering +look" at the warm, bright sunshine that irradiated even those gray +walls, ere I entered the low porch whence it was all excluded by the +ivy which seemed to delight in entwining its slender leaves around the +crumbling pillars, as if it would fain impart strength and beauty to +the consecrated building in its declining years. + +But a long--long time had passed since then, and I had come to revisit +my village-home, and the memory-endeared haunts of my girlhood, for +the last time, ere journeying to a distant land. The place was little +changed, and every thing around that well-remembered spot came laden +with so many sweet and early associations, that the memory of by-gone +hours swept thrillingly across my heart-strings, and it was not until +after I had taken my accustomed seat in the old-fashioned high-backed +pew, that I was roused from my busy wanderings in the "shadowy past," +by the voice of our pastor-- + + "Years had gone by, and given his honored head + A _diadem of snow_--his eye was dim"-- + +his voice grown weak and tremulous with increasing years, although +there was a something in its tone so full of simple-hearted +earnestness, that had never failed to find its way to the most gay and +thoughtless spirits of his little flock. And now how reverently I +gazed upon the silvered locks of him who had been mine own faithful +guide and counselor along the devious pathway of youth--feeling that +his pilgrimage was almost ended--his loving labors well nigh over--and +soon he would go down to the grave + + "Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch + Around him and lies down to peaceful dreams." + +I looked around--and it was sad to see how few there were of all the +familiar faces I had left--and those few--oh, how changed! But there +was one to whom my glance reverted constantly, nor could I account for +the strange fascination which seemed to fix mine eyes upon her. And +yet, as I looked, the spring of memory seemed touched, and suddenly +there appeared before me _two_ faces, which I found it impossible to +separate in my bewildered rememberings--although so very unlike as +they were! The one so bright and joyous, with blue laughter-loving +eyes, in which an unshadowed heart was mirrored--and the other--the +one on which my gaze was now fixed so dreamily--wan and faded, +although it must once have been singularly beautiful, so delicate and +fair were the features, and so pure and spiritual was the white brow +resting beneath those waving masses of golden hair--a temple meet, +methought, for all high and earnest feeling--then, too, there was a +sweet--yet oh! how sorrow-shaded and subdued--expression flitting +around the small mouth, as though a world-torn and troubled spirit, +yet meek and long-suffering, had left its impress there! Her +eyes--those large, deep, earnest eyes--how they haunted me with their +eager restlessness, wandering to and fro with a perturbed, anxious, +asking look, and then upturned with a fixed and pleading gaze, which +moved one's very heart to see. Her dress was very simple, and yet I +could not help thinking it strangely contrasted with the +sorrow-stricken expression of that fair though faded face. + +A wreath of orange-blossoms encircled the small cottage-bonnet, and a +long white veil half concealed in its ample folds the fragile form, +which, if it had lost the roundness of early youth, still retained the +most delicate symmetry of outline; upon her breast lay, half hidden, a +withered rose, fit emblem, methought, for her who wore it. Oft-times +her pale thin hands were clasped, and once, when our pastor repeated +in his own low, fervent tone--"Come unto me, all ye heavy-laden, and I +will give you rest"--her lip quivered, and she looked quickly up, with + + "A glance of hurried wildness, fraught + With some unfathomable thought." + +My sympathies were all out-gushing for her, and when the full tones of +the organ peeled forth their parting strain and we went forth from the +sanctuary, my busy dreamings of the present and the past all were +merged in one honest desire to know the poor girl's history. I learned +it afterward from the lips of Aunt Nora Meriwether. + +Dear Aunt Nora! If thou _wert_ yclept "spinster," never did a heart +more filled with good and pure and kindly impulses beat than thine! +Indeed, I have ever ascribed my deep reverence for the sisterhood in +general to my affectionate remembrances of this childhood's friend. +The oracle of our village was Aunt Nora Meriwether--and how could "old +maid" be a stigma upon her name, when it was by virtue of this very +title that she was enabled to perform all those little kindly offices +which her heart was ever prompting, and which made up the sum of her +simple daily existence! It was said that Aunt Nora was "disappointed" +in early life--but however this may have been, certain it was that the +tales (and they _did_ intimate--did the good people of our +village--that if Aunt Nora had a weakness, it consisted in +over-fondness for story-telling) she treasured longest, and oftenest +repeated, were those in which the fair heroine was crossed in love. + +Many a time have we, a group of gay and happy-hearted children, +gathered round her feet, as she sat in the low doorway of her +cottage-home, and listened with intense interest to a tale of her +youthful days, gazing the while with eyes in which the bright drops of +sympathy oft would glisten, upon the kind face bent upon our own in +such loveful earnestness. And we would hope, in child-like innocence +of heart, that _we_ might never "fall in love," but grow up and be +"old maids," just like our own dear Aunt Nora! Whether we still +continued to hope so, after we had grown in years and wisdom, it +behoveth me not to say! I am quite sure you would rather listen to the +tale now before thee, dear reader, from the good old lady's own +lips--for it is but a simple sketch at best, and needeth the charm +thrown around it by a heart which the frost of many winters had not +sealed to the tenderest sympathies of our nature--and the low-toned +voice, too, that often during her narrative would grow tremulous with +the emotion it excited. But, alas! this may not be! that low voice is +hushed--the little wicket-gate now closed--the path which led to her +cottage-door untrodden now for many a day--and that kind and gentle +heart is laid at rest beneath bright flowers, planted there by loving +hands, in the humble church-yard. But this day is so lovely--is it +not? With that soft and shadowy mist hanging like a gossamer veil over +Nature's face, through which the glorious god of day looks with a +quiet smile, as though he loved to dwell upon a scene so replete with +home-breathing beauty! And that smile! how lovingly it rests upon the +lawn and the meadow and the brook! How it lingers upon the sweet +flowerets which have not yet brushed the tears from their eyes, until +those dewy tear-drops seem--as if touched by a fairy wand--to change +to radiant gems! How it peeps into every nook and dell, until the +silent places of the earth rejoice in the light of that glory-beaming +smile! The busy hum of countless insects--the soft chime of the +distant water-fall--the thrilling notes of the woodland +choristers--the happy voice of the streamlet, which hurries on ever +murmuring the same glad strain--the gentle zephyr, now whispering +through the leafy trees with low, mysterious tone, and then stealing +so gently, noiselessly through the shadowy grass, till each tiny blade +quivers as if trembling to the touch of fairy feet. These are Nature's +voices, and do they not seem on a day like this in the sweet +summer-time to unite and swell forth in one full anthem of harmony and +praise to the great Creator of all? And does it not seem, too, as we +gaze (for thou art sitting now with me, art thou not, gentle reader? +on the mossy bank beneath the noble elm which has for many years +stretched out its arms protectingly over mine own old homestead, while +I recount to thee this simple tale of "long ago") upon the scene +before us, so replete with quiet loveliness it is--that in every heart +within the precincts of our smiling village there must be a chord +attuned to echo back in voiceless melody the brightness and the beauty +around? Yet oh! how many there may be, even here, whose sun of +happiness hath set on earth forever! How many whose tear-dimmed glance +can descry naught in the far future but a weary waste--whose +life-springs all are dried--whose up-springing hopes all withered by +the blighting touch of Sorrow! + + * * * * * + +Dost thou see that little cot nestled so closely beneath the +hill-side? and covered with the woodland vine which hath enfolded its +tendrils clingingly around it--peeping in and out at the deserted +windows, or climbing at will over the latticed porch, or trailing on +the ground and looking up forlornly, as though it wondered where were +the careful hands which erst nourished it so tenderly. The place seems +very mournful--with the long grass growing rankly over the once +carefully-kept pathway, and a few bright flowers, on either side, +striving to uprear their beauteous heads above the tangled weeds which +have well nigh supplanted them. Neglect--desolation is engraven on all +around, and even the little wicket, as it swings slowly to and fro, +seems to say, "All gone! go-ne!" The wind, how meaningly it steals +through the deserted rooms, as though breathing a funereal dirge over +the departed! How "eloquent of wo" is that sound! Now swelling forth, +as it were, in wild and uncontrollable grief, and now sinking +exhaustedly into a low and touching mournfulness which seems almost +human! But to our tale. + +One bright morning, now many years ago, a lady clothed in garb of +mourning, accompanied by a little bright-eyed girl of perhaps some +nine summers, and her old nurse, alighted at the village inn. Now this +seemingly trivial circumstance was in reality quite an event in our +quiet community, and considerably disturbed the good people thereof +from the "even tenor of their way." Indeed, there were many more +curious eyes bent upon the new-comers than they seemed to be at all +aware of, if one might judge from the cold and calm features of the +lady, or the assiduous care which her companion was bestowing upon one +particular bandbox, which the gruff driver of the stage-coach was, to +be sure, handling rather irreverently, actually seeming to enjoy the +ill-concealed anxiety of the poor old woman for the safety of her +goods and chattels, while the child followed close beside her mamma, +her sparkling eyes glancing hither and thither with that eager love of +novelty so natural to the young. At length, however, the trunks, +boxes, packages, &c., &c., all were duly deposited, and duly +inspected also, by the several pairs of eyes which were peering +through the narrowest imaginable strips of glass at neighboring +window-curtains or half-closed shutters. The driver once more mounted +his box, cracked his whip, and the lumbering coach rattled rapidly +away, while the travelers, obeyed the call of the smiling and +curtseying landlady, and disappeared within the open door of the inn. + +Oh, what whisperings and surmisings were afloat throughout our village +during the succeeding week! "Who _can_ this stranger-lady be? From +whence has she come, and how long intend remaining here?" seemed to be +the all-important queries of the day; and so gravely were they +discussed, each varying supposition advanced or withdrawn as best +suited the charity or credulity of the respective interrogators, that +one would certainly have thought them questions of vital importance to +their own immediate interests. Strange to say, however, with all this +unwonted zeal and perseverance, at the end of the nine days, (the +legitimate time for wonderment,) all that the very wisest of the group +of gossips could bring forward as the fruits of her patient and +untiring investigation, was the simple fact that the lady's name was +Layton--the nurse's Jeffries--and that the child, who soon became the +pet of the whole household, was always addressed by the servants at +the inn as "Miss Fanny," and, moreover, that Mrs. L. was certainly in +mourning for her husband, as she had been seen one morning by the +chambermaid weeping over the miniature of a "very fine-looking man, +dressed in uniform," and had, in all probability, come to take up her +residence in our quiet Aberdeen, as she had been heard inquiring about +the small cottage beneath the hill, (the self-same, dear reader, the +neglect and desertion of which were but now lamented.) + +Truth to tell, it _was_ shrewdly surmised that the landlady at the +"Golden Eagle" had gleaned more particular information than this, +although whenever she was questioned concerning the matter, she did +only reply by a very grave shake of the head, each vibration of which +(particularly when accompanied by a pursing of the mouth, and a +mysterious looking round) more and more convinced her simple-minded +auditors (i.e. some of them, for it is not to be denied that there +were a few incredulous ones who, either from former experiences, or +natural sagacity, or some cause unknown, hesitated not to declare it +to be their fixed and unalterable opinion that these seeming +indications of superior knowledge on the part of good Mrs. Gordon, +were but "a deceitful show," "for their '_delusion_' given,") that +she, Mrs. G., had been entrusted either by Mistress Jeffries, the +nurse, or perhaps by the lady herself, with a weighty and important +secret, which it would be very dreadful, indeed, to disclose. And yet, +when such a possibility was vaguely hinted to her, she did not, (as +one would be disposed to do who was really striving to deceive the +eager questioners around her, by giving them an erroneous impression +as to the amount of her knowledge on the subject,) seize the idea with +avidity, and seem manifestly anxious to encourage such a supposition. +On the contrary, it was evidently deeply distressing to her that any +one should cherish such a thought for a moment; and she begged them so +earnestly, almost with tears in her eyes, not to mention it again, and +said so much about it, reverting to the theme invariably when the +conversation chanced to turn upon some other topic, as though it quite +weighed upon her mind, that at length her companions inwardly wondered +what had given rise to the belief in their minds, and yet, as one old +lady said, looking sagaciously over her spectacles, "that belief waxed +stronger and stronger." + +Time passed on--days merged themselves into weeks, and weeks to +months, and the harmony and quietude of Aberdeen was fully restored. +The "Widow Layton," (for thus, from that time, was she invariably +styled,) after all due preliminaries, had taken quiet possession of +the little vine-clad cot; and although she was not as "neighborly" as +she might have been, and never communicative as to her previous +history, still might the feeling of pique with which they at first +received such a rebuff to their curiosity, have been a very evanescent +one in the minds of the villagers, had it not chanced that Aberdeen +was blessed (?) with two prim sister-spinsters, (was it they or Aunt +Nora, who formed the exception to the general rule? I leave it for +thee, dear reader, to decide, since with that early-instilled +reverence before mentioned, I cannot consider my humble opinion +infallible,) whose hearts, according to their _own_ impression on the +subject, quite overflowed with charity and benevolence, which +manifested itself in the somewhat singular method of making every one +around them uncomfortable, and in the happy faculty which they +possessed in an eminent degree, of imparting injurious doubts and +covert insinuations as to the manners and habits of their neighbors, +who else might have journeyed peacefully adown the vale of life in +perfect good faith with all the world; moreover, they hated a mystery, +did these two sister-spinsters, from their own innate frankness and +openness of disposition, they said, and considered themselves so much +in duty bound to ferret out the solution of any thing which bore the +semblance to an enigma, that they gave themselves no rest, poor, +self-sacrificing creatures, until they had obtained their object. And +well were they rewarded for this indefatigable zeal, for they had the +satisfaction of knowing that they had found out more family secrets, +destroyed more once-thought happy marriages, and embittered more +hearts than any two persons in all the country round. + +They lived in the heart of our village, (and never did that heart +quicken with one pulsation of excitement or surprise, or joy or +sorrow, but they were the first to search into the why and wherefore,) +in a large two story house, isolated from the rest, which seemed to +emulate its occupants in stiffness and rigidity, and whose glassy eyes +looked out as coldly upon the beauteous face of nature, as they from +their own stern "windows of the soul," upon the human face divine. +There was no comfort, no home-look about the place; even the flowers +seemed not to grow by their own sweet will, but came up as they were +bidden, tall and straight, and stiff. And the glorious rays of the sun +glanced off from the dazzling whiteness of the forbidding mansion, as +though they had met with a sudden rebuff, and had failed to penetrate +an atmosphere where every thing seemed to possess an antipathy to the +bright and the joyous. It was strange to see what a chilliness +pervaded the spot. The interior of the house (which I once saw when a +child; and, oh! I never _can_ forget the long, long-drawn sigh that +escaped my lips as I once more found myself without the precincts of a +place where my buoyant spirits seemed suddenly frozen beneath the +glance of those two spinsters, where even the large, lean cat paced +the floor with such a prim, stately step, now and then pausing to fix +her cold, gray eyes upon my face, as though to question the cause of +my intrusion, and also to intimate that she had no sort of sympathy +with either my feelings, or those of children in general.) Every thing +bore the same immovable look--the narrow, high-backed chairs seemed as +if they had grown out of the floor, and were destined to remain as +stationary as the oaks of the forest; the "primeval carpet," over +which the Misses Nancy and Jerusha Simpkins walked as though mentally +enumerating the lines that crossed each other in such exact squares, +never was littered by a single shred; and the high, old-fashioned +clock still maintained its position in the corner from year to year, +seeming to take a sort of malicious satisfaction in calmly ticking the +hours away which bore the Misses Simpkins nearer and nearer to that +_certain_ age (which they, if truth must be told, were in nowise +desirous to reach) when all further endeavors to conceal the +foot-marks of stern old Father Time would be of no avail. + +It was at the close of a chilly evening late in autumn--old Boreas was +abroad, and had succeeded, it would seem, in working himself into an +ungovernable fit of rage, for he went about screaming most +boisterously, now hurrying the poor bewildered leaves along, +maliciously causing them to perform very undignified antics for their +_time of life_, while they, poor old withered things, thus suddenly +torn from the protecting arms of their parental tree, flew by, like +frightened children, vainly striving to gain some place of shelter. +Alas! alas! no rest was there for them. What infinite delight their +inveterate persecutor seemed to take in whirling them round and round, +dodging about, and seeking them in the most unheard-of places, where +they lay panting from very fright and fatigue. And then off he would +start again, shaking the window-sashes as he passed, with wild, though +impatient fury, remorselessly tearing down the large gilt signs which +had from time immemorial rejoiced in the respective and respectable +names of several worthies of our village, and then speeding away to +the homes of said worthies, to proclaim the audacious deed through the +key-hole, in the most impudent and incomprehensible manner possible. +It was on such an evening as this, a few months after the arrival of +the Laytons at Aberdeen, that the Misses Simpkins sat in their +cheerless back-room, hovering over a small fire, busily plying their +noisy knitting-needles, and meantime indulging in their usual dish of +scandal, which, however, it is but justice to say, was not quite so +highly seasoned with the spice of envy and malice as was its wont. +Whether it was that the memory of a bright and beaming little face +that had intruded upon their solitude during the afternoon, had half +succeeded in awakening the slumbering better nature which had slept so +long, it was somewhat doubted if any effort could resuscitate it +again; whether it was that the lingering echo of a certain sweet, +childish voice that had beguiled the weary hours of their dullness and +monotony, and with its innocent prattle, had, in some degree, forced +an opening through the firm frost-work which had been gradually +gathering for years round their hearts, I cannot tell; but true it is +that as the sister spinsters sat there, with the faint and feeble +flame struggling up from the small fire, and the light from the one +tall candle flickering and growing unsteady as it flashed upon the two +thin, sharp faces close beside it, while the antique furniture looked +more grotesque and grim than ever in the deep shadow, and the +never-wearying clock still ticked calmly on, regardless alike of the +contending elements without and the wordy warfare within; true it is +that the conversation between the sisters was divested of one half its +wonted acrimony. + +"To be sure," said Miss Simpkins the younger, at length, after a +pause, in which the half-awakened better nature seemed strongly +disposed to resume its slumbers again, "little civility has the Widow +Layton to expect from any body with her distant bows and uppish airs, +when one ventures to express an interest in her; and if I hadn't a +very forgiving disposition, oh! Jerusha! Jerusha! I don't think I'd +trouble myself to call upon her again. But I feel it to be my duty to +advise her to put little Fanny to school, for she's a good child and +winsome-like, and running at large so will just be the spoiling of +her." + +"Well, Jerusha," responded Miss Nancy, who had, perhaps, a little +leaven more than her sister, of tartness in her disposition, and on +whose face an habitual expression of acidity was rapidly increasing, +"you know very well that the widow considers herself a little above +every body else in Aberdeen, and you might as well talk to a stone +wall as to her about sending the child to school. Why haven't I done +my best at talking to her? Haven't I told her of Miss Birch's school, +where the children don't so much as turn round without their teacher's +leave, and where you might hear a pin drop at any time. Haven't I told +her that she might easily save a good deal in the year, by renting one +half of that snug little cottage--and what thanks did I get? A reply +as haughty as if she were the greatest lady in the land, instead of +being, as she is, a nameless, homeless stranger, who cannot be 'any +better than she should be,' or she would never make such a mighty +mystery about her past life, that she 'trusted Miss Simpkins would +allow her to be the best judge as to the proper method of educating +her child, and also as to the means of retrenching her own expenses if +she found it needful.'" + +Unkind, unjust, unfeeling Nancy Simpkins! and has not that settled, +ever-present sorrow upon those pale features; have not those +grief-traced lines around the compressed mouth, and across the once +smooth and polished brow; has not the sad garb of the mourner, which +speaks of the lone vigil, the weary watching, the hope deferred, or it +may be the sudden stroke of the dread tyrant Death, no appeal to thy +frozen sympathies? Canst thou suffer thy better nature to resume its +deep and trance-like sleep again, and rob that poor widowed mother of +her only hope on earth, that bright, glad creature, who carries +sunshine to her otherwise desolate home, but to pinion her free and +fetterless spirit beneath the iron rule and despotic sway of the +village task-mistress? + +We will leave the Misses Simpkins, and thou pleasest, reader mine, to +the enjoyment of their envy-tinctured converse, and turn the page of +Mrs. Layton's life. + +An only child of wealthy parents, petted, caressed and idolized, she +had sprung into womanhood, with every wish anticipated, every desire +gratified ere half expressed, if within the reach of human +possibility, what wonder, then, that she grew wayward and willful, and +at length rashly dashed the cup of happiness of which she had drank so +freely in her sunny youth from her lip, by disobeying her too fond and +doating parents, in committing her life's destiny to the keeping of +one who they, with the anxious foresight of love, too well knew would +not hold the precious trust as sacred. Brave and handsome and gifted +he might be, but the seeds of selfishness had been too surely sown +within his heart; and he had won the idol of a worshiping crowd, more, +perchance, from a feeling of exultation and pride in being able to +bear away the prize from so many eager aspirants, than any deep-rooted +affection he felt for the fair object of his solicitude. The novelty +and the charm soon wore away, and then his beautiful bride was +neglected for his former dissolute associates. He afterward entered +the navy, and somewhat more than ten years after they were wedded, +fell in a duel provoked by his own rash, temper. From the moment that +Mrs. Layton recovered from the trance-like swoon which followed the +first sight of her husband's bleeding corpse, she seemed utterly, +entirely changed. She had truly loved him, he who lay before her now, +a victim of his own rash and selfish folly, and with all a woman's +earnest devotion would have followed him to the remotest extremes of +earth; but her feelings had been too long trampled upon, her heart too +bruised and crushed ever to be upraised again. She had leaned upon a +broken reed, and had awakened to find herself widowed, broken-hearted. +And she arose, that desolate and bereaved one, and folding her child +closer to her breast, went forth into the cold world +friendless--alone! Once would her grief have been loud and passionate +and wild, but she had passed through a weary probation, and had +learned "to suffer and be still." How, in that dark hour, did her +lost mother's prayer-breathed words, her father's earnest entreaties +come back to smite heavily upon her sorrow-stricken spirit--but +remorse and repentance were now all too late. And yet not too late, +she murmured inly, for had she not a duty to perform toward the little +being, her only, and, oh! how heaven-hallowed, tie to earth, consigned +to her guardianship and care. Did she not firmly resolve never by +ill-judged and injudicious fondness to mark out a pathway filled with +thorns for her darling. It may be that that widowed mother erred even +in excess of zeal, for she would resist the natural promptings of her +heart, and check the gushing affection which welled from the deepest, +purest fountain in the human heart, lest its expression might prove +injurious to the loved one in after years. And thus there grew a +restraint and a seeming coldness on the part of the mother, a constant +craving for love, which was never satisfied, and a feeling of fear on +the child's, which shut them out from that pure trust and confidence, +which are such bright links in the chain that binds a mother to her +child. + + * * * * * + +This, then, was the Widow Layton who with her little one and nurse had +sought our village, immediately after the decease of her husband, as a +peaceful asylum from the noise and tumult of a world where, in happier +days, she had played so conspicuous a part. It was not so much that +she sedulously avoided all mention of her past history to the eager +questioners around her, from a disinclination that it should be known, +as that she little understood the character of the villagers +themselves--ofttimes mistaking a really well-meant interest in her +welfare for an idle and impertinent curiosity. Mrs. Layton had been +highly born and nurtured, and there seemed to her delicate mind a +something rude and unfeeling in the manner with which her too +officious friends and neighbors would touch upon the sources of grief +which were to her so sacred. And therefore, perhaps unwisely, she held +herself aloof from them, replying to their different queries with that +calm and easy dignity which effectually precluded all approach to +familiarity, and engendered a dislike in the minds of those who were +little accustomed to meet one who could not enter into all their +feelings, plans and projects--which dislike was constantly kept alive +and fostered by the united exertions of the two sister spinsters. Good +Mrs. Jeffries, too, the fond old nurse who had never left her beloved +mistress through all her varying fortunes, was all too faithful and +true to reveal aught that that kind mistress might wish untold; and +thus it was that the curiosity of the good people of Aberdeen was kept +continually in check, and about the unsuspecting inmates of Woodbine +Cottage was thrown a mystery that was becoming constantly augmented by +their incomprehensible silence on the subject. + + * * * * * + +Weeks--months--years sped swiftly away, and the widow, by her free and +unostentatious charities and her angel-ministering to the poor, the +afflicted and the bereaved, had almost eradicated the first +unpleasing impression made upon the simple-hearted people of +Aberdeen; so that, although the Misses Simpkins still held their +nightly confabulations, they did not venture as at first, so openly to +propagate their animadversions concerning the "mysterious stranger," +but on the contrary, always made it a point to preface any sudden and +amiable suggestion that presented itself to their minds with "not that +I would say any thing against her, but it does seem a little +singular," &c. But of Miss Fanny--sweet, witching Fanny Layton! who +had grown in beauty and grace day by day, not one word did they dare +to speak in her dispraise! For was there one in all Aberdeen who would +not have resented the slightest intimation of disrespect to our lily +of the valley--whose joy-inspiring and sorrow-banishing presence was +welcomed delightedly by young and old, both far and near? And oh! was +there ever music like her sweet, ringing laugh, or melody like the +low-toned voice which was always eloquent of joyousness. Whether she +sat in the humble cottage, lending kind and ready assistance to the +care-worn matron, by playfully imprisoning the little hands of the +children within her own petite palms, while she recounted to them some +wonderful tale, her brilliant fancy, meantime, never soaring above +their childish comprehension, although she was regarded by her little +auditors as nothing less than a bright fairy herself, who was thus +familiar with all that witching tribe, and who could with her own +magic wand thus open to them stores of such strange and delightful +things as was never before dreamed of in their youthful +philosophy--while their patient, painstaking mother would now and then +glance up from her never-ending task, with a smile of such beaming +pleasure and gratitude as amply repaid the gentle being, who seemed in +her loveful employ to be the presiding angel of that humble +dwelling-place. Whether she would "happen-in" of a long, warm summer +afternoon to take a cup of tea with a neighboring farmer's wife--an +honor that never failed to throw that worthy woman into a perfect +fever of anxiety and delight--who would proffer a thousand and one +apologies for the deficiencies that only existed in her own perverse +imagination, if, indeed, they existed even there, for her bright eyes +were contradicting a pair of rosy lips all the while, as they glanced +with a lurking--yet I am sure laudable--pride, from the "new chany +sett" (which was wont on great occasions to be brought forward) to the +rich treasures of her well-kept dairy, that her busy feet had been +going pat-a-pat from cupboard to cellar, and cellar to cupboard, for a +whole hour previous collecting, to place in all their tempting +freshness before her beloved guest. Or whether she came with her +simple offering of fresh flowers--her word of sympathy and comfort--or +some choice dainty, that seemed "_so_ nice" to the sick and suffering, +who had turned away with loathing from every thing before, but who +could not fail to find _this_ delicious, for was it not made and +brought by the hands of dear Miss Fanny's self? Still did her presence +seem to make sunlight wherever she went! + +Fanny was a young lady now--although you would scarce believe it, for +she was a very child at heart, with all a child's unworldliness, +unsuspecting confidence, and winning innocence. And yet there was +deep, deep down in that loveful, earnest heart, that Joy and all Joy's +sister spirits seemed to have taken captive, a fount whose seal had +never been found. + +Oh, Fanny, dear, darling Fanny Layton! wo, wo for thee the day when +first that hidden seal was broken! When Hope and Doubt and Fear by +turns played sentinel to the hidden treasure, the door to which, when +once flung back, never can be reclosed again! When joy and gladness +but tarried a little while to dispute their prior right to revel +undisturbed in that buoyant heart of thine, and then went tearfully +forth, leaving for aye a dreary void, and a deep, dark shadow, where +all had been but brightness and beauty before! Oh, why must the +night-time of sorrow come to thee, thou gentle and pure-hearted one? +Thou for whom such fervent and fond prayers have ascended, as should, +methinks, have warded off from, thee each poisoned shaft, and proved +an amulet to guard thee from all life's ills! Thy sixteenth summer, +was it not a very, very happy one to thee, sweet Fanny Layton? But +happiness, alas! in this cold world of ours, is never an unfading +flower; and although so coveted and so sought, still will droop in the +eager hands which grasped it, and die while yet the longing eyes are +watching its frail brightness with dim and shadowful foreboding! + +Just on the outskirts of our village there slept a silent, secluded +little nook, which the thickly-growing trees quite enclosed, only +permitting the bright sun to glance glimmeringly through their +interwoven leaves and look upon the blue-eyed violets that held their +mute confabulations--each and all perking up their pretty heads to +receive the diurnal kiss of their god-father Sol--in little lowly +knots at their feet. Kind reader, I am sure I cannot make you know how +very lovely it was, unless you yourself have peeped into this +sheltered spot--seen the cool, dark shadows stretching across the +velvet turf, and making the bright patches of sunlight look brighter +still--have stood by the murmuring brook on which the sun-bright +leaves overhead are mirrored tremulously, and upon whose brink there +grows so many a lovely "denizen of the wild"--gazed admiringly upon +the beautiful white rose Dame Nature hath set in the heart of this +hidden sanctuary, as a seal of purity and innocence--and more than +this, have turned from all these to watch the fairy form flitting from +flower to flower, with so light a step that one might mistake it for +some bright fay sent on a love-mission to this actual world of +ours--if one did not know that this was Fanny Layton's dream-dell--that +in this lovely spot she would spend hours during the long, warm summer +days, poring over the pages of some favorite author, or twining the +sweet wild flowers in fragrant wreaths to bedeck her invalid mother's +room--or, perchance, staying for awhile those busy fingers, to indulge +in those dreamy, delicious reveries with which the scene and hour so +harmonized. + +One day--and that day was an era in poor Fanny's life which was never +afterward to be forgotten--our lovely heroine might have been seen +tripping lightly over the smooth sward, the green trees rustling +musically in the summer breeze, and Nature's myriad tones "concerting +harmonies" on hill and dale. And one needed but to see the smiling +lip, and those clear, laughter-loving eyes peeping from beneath just +the richest and brightest golden curls in the world, to know what a +joyous heart was beating to that fairy-light and bounding step. Wonder +none could be, that many an eye brightened as she passed, and many a +kindly wish--that was never the less trustful and sincere for that it +was couched in homely phrase--sped her on her way. Dream-dell was +reached at length--the flowering shrubs which formed the rural +gate-way parted, and Fanny threw herself on the waving grass, with a +careless grace which not all the fashionable female attitudinizers in +the world could have imitated, so full of unstudied ease and +naturalness it was--with her small cottage bonnet thrown off that +wealth of clustering curls which were lifted by the soft summer wind, +and fell shadowingly over the brightest and most beaming little face +upon which ever fond lover gazed admiringly--with eyes which seemed to +have caught their deep and dewy blue from the violets she clasped in +one small hand, and on which they were bent with a silent glance of +admiration--for Fanny was a dear lover of wild-wood flowers, as who is +not who bears a heart untouched by the sullying stains of earth? One +tiny foot had escaped from the folds of her simple muslin dress, and +lay half-buried in the green turf--a wee, wee foot it was, so small, +indeed, that it seemed just the easiest thing possible to encase it +within the lost slipper of Cinderella, if said slipper could but have +been produced; at least so said a pair of eyes, as plainly as pair of +eyes _could_ say it, which peering from behind a leafy screen, were +now upon it fixed in most eager intensity, and now wandered to the +face of the fair owner thereof, who was still bent over the flowers in +the small hand, as if seeking some hidden spell in their many-colored +leaves. + +That pair of eyes were the appurtenances belonging to a face that +might have proved no uninteresting study to the physiognomist, albeit +it would have puzzled one not a little, methinks, to have formed a +satisfactory conclusion therefrom, so full of contradictions did it +seem. A mass of waving hair fell around a brow high and +well-developed, though somewhat darkly tinged by the warmth, mayhap, +of a southern sun, and the eyes were large and lustrous, yet there was +a something unfathomable in their depths, which made one doubt if they +were truly the index of the soul, and might not be made to assume +whatever expression the mind within willed. At present, however, they +were filled only with deep admiration mingled with surprise, while +around the mouth, which, in repose, wore a slightly scornful curve, +there played a frank and winning smile, as, advancing with a quiet +courtesy that at once bespoke him a man of the world, despite slouched +hat and hunting-frock, the intruder upon our heroine's solitude +exclaimed, with half-earnest, half-jesting gallantry, "Prithee, fair +woodland nymph, suffer a lone knight, who has wandered to the confines +of a Paradise unawares, to bow the knee in thy service, and as +atonement meet for venturing unbidden into thy hidden sanctum, to +proffer thee the homage of his loyal heart!" + +Fanny was but a simple country maiden, all unskilled in the light and +graceful nothings which form the substance of worldly converse, and so +the warm, rich crimson crept into her cheek, + + "The color which his gaze had thrown + Upon a cheek else pale and fair, + As lilies in the summer air." + +and the wee foot forthwith commenced beating a tatoo upon the heads of +the unoffending flowers around, who breathed forth their perfumed +sighs in mute reproachfulness; but she was still a woman, and so with +all a woman's ready tact she replied, though with the flush deepening +on her cheek, and a scarce-perceptible tremor in her voice, + +"Indeed, sir stranger, since thou hast given me such unwonted power, I +must first use my sceptre of command in banishing all intruders into +my august presence, and invaders of this 'hidden sanctum,' which is +held sacred to mine own idle feet alone!" + +And there was a merry look of mischievous meaning stealing in and out +of those bright eyes as they were for a moment uplifted to the face of +the stranger, and then again were shadowed by the drooping lid. +Whether it was that said "intruder" detected a something in the tone +or the demure glance of the fair girl which contradicted the words she +spoke, or whether that very glance transfixed him to the spot, history +telleth not, but stay he did; and if his tarrying was very _heart_ily +objected to by his companion, if the words which fell from his lip in +utterance how musical, for the space of two fastly-fleeting hours, +were not pleasing to the ear of the maiden, then, indeed, did that +soft, bright glow which mantled her fair cheek, and the rosy lip, +half-parted and eloquent of interest, sadly belie the beating heart +within, as the twain walked lingeringly homeward, the dark shadows +lengthening on the green grass, and the setting sun flinging a flood +of golden-tinted light upon the myriad leaves which were trembling to +the love-voice of the soft summer breeze. + +Softly was the latch of the wicket lifted, and light was the maiden's +step upon the stair, as she sought her own little chamber. Was she +gazing forth from the open window to admire the brilliancy of that +gorgeous sunset? Was it to drink in the beauty and brightness of that +sweet summer eve, or to feel the soft breeze freshly fanning her +flushed cheek? Nay, none of these. See how earnestly her gaze is bent +upon the retreating form of the stranger; and now that he is lost to +view, behold her sitting with head resting on one little hand, quite +lost in a reverie that is not like those of Dream-dell memory, for now +there comes a tangible shape in place of those ideal ones, and the +echo of a manly voice, breathing devotion and deference in every tone, +still is lingering in her enchained ear. For the first time she +forgets to carry her offering of fresh flowers to her mother's room. +Ah! her busy fingers have been strewing the bright leaves around +unconsciously, and she blushingly gathers the few remaining ones, and, +with a pang of self-reproach, hastens to her mother's side. + +It is with a sigh of relief that Fanny beholds her invalid parent +sleeping sweetly--a relief that was augmented by the question which +burst suddenly upon her mind, "Can I tell her that I have had a +stranger-companion in my wanderings?" Wonder not at the query, gentle +reader, for remember that the life of our sweet Fanny had not been +blessed with that loving confidence which is the tenderest tie in the +relation of mother and child. Her love was ever intermingled with too +much fear and restraint from earliest youth, for that interchange of +counsel and trust which might have been a sure safeguard against many +of earth's ills. And it was perhaps that very yearning to fill the +only void left in her happy heart which prompted her to give the helm +of her barque of life, so soon and so confidingly into the hands of a +stranger. + +Day succeeded day, and still the lovers, for they were lovers now, +were found at their sweet trysting spot, seeking every pretext for +frequent meetings, as lovers will, until many were the heads in +Aberdeen which were shaken in wise prognostication; and the Misses +Simpkins, to their unspeakable relief, had found a new theme whereon +to exercise their powers conversational, while the children of the +village mourned the absence of their kind "Fairy," and wished with all +their little hearts that Miss Fanny would send away that "naughty man" +who kept her from their homes. + +Poor Fanny! the hidden seal had been touched at length, and on the +deep waters beneath was shining Love's own meteor-light--a light that +was reflected on every thing around. + + "It was as her heart's full happiness + Poured over _all_ its own excess." + +How swiftly the days flew by, "like winged birds, as lightly and as +free." And, oh! how priceless, peerless was the gift she was yielding +to the stranger in such child-like confidence and trust. There was so +much up-looking in her love for him; it seemed so sweet to recognize +the thoughts which had lain dormant in her own soul, for want of +fitting expression, flowing from his lip clothed in such a +beauty-breathing garmenture. And now Fanny Layton was a child no +longer. She had crossed the threshold, and the "spirit of unrest" had +descended upon her, albeit as yet she knew it not. Her heart seemed so +full of sunshine, that when she ventured to peep into its depths, she +was dazzled by that flood of radiance--and how could she descry the +still shadow. Alas! that on this earth of ours with the sunlight ever +comes the shadows, too, which was sleeping there, but to widen and +grow deeper and darker when love's waters should cease to gush and +sparkle as at the first opening of that sweet fount. + +But the day of parting came at length--how it had been dwelt upon with +intermingling vows, promises, caresses on his part, with trust, and +tenderness, and tears on hers! A sad, sad day it was for Fanny +Layton, the first she had ever known that was ever heralded by +sorrow's messenger. How she strove to dwell upon Edward Morton's +words, "It will not be for long;" and banish from her heart those +nameless, undefinable fears which _would_ not away at her bidding. The +sky looked no longer blue--the green earth no longer glad; and traces +of tears, the bitterest she had ever shed, were on that poor girl's +cheek, as she went forth to meet her beloved, for the last time. + +It matters not to say how each familiar haunt was visited that day; +how each love-hallowed spot bore witness to those low murmured words +which are earth's dearest music; how time wore on, as time will, +whether it bears on its resistless tide a freightage of joys or +sorrows, pleasures, or pains, until at length the last word had been +said, the last silent embrace taken; and now poor Fanny Layton stood +alone, gazing through blinding tears upon the solitary horseman who +rode swiftly away, as if another glance at the fair creature who stood +with straining gaze and pallid cheek and drooping form, would all +unman him. Was it this, or was it that in that hour he felt his own +unworthiness of the sacred trust reposed in him? + +We will believe, dear reader, that whatever after influences may have +exercised dominion over his heart; however he may have been swerved +from his plighted faith by dreams of worldly ambition, or wealth, or +power; however cold policy may have up-rooted all finer feeling from +his soul, we will believe that no thoughts of treachery, no meditated +falsehood mingled with that parting embrace and blessing; that +although he had bowed at many a shrine before, and therefore could not +feel all the depth and purity of the unworldly affection which he had +won, still he did not, could not believe it possible that that +priceless love would be bartered for pomp and station, he did mean, +when he placed the white rose, plucked from the heart of Dream-dell, +in the little trembling hand which rested on his shoulder, and +murmured "Fanny, darling, ere this bud hath scarce withered, I shall +be with you again," that it should be even as he said. Alas! alas! for +the frailty of human nature! + +That night poor Fanny pressed the precious rose to her quivering lip, +and sobbed herself, like a child, to sleep. + +The next day wore away--the next--the next--still no tidings from the +absent one; and he had promised to write as soon as he arrived "in +town!" What could it mean? + +Oh, that weary watching! The hours moved, oh, so leaden-paced and +slow! Every day the poor girl waited for the coming of the post-man; +and every day, with a pang at her heart, and tear-dimmed eyes, she saw +him pass the door. "Edward has been detained; he will come yet, I'm +sure," a fond inner voice whispered; "perhaps he has sent no letter, +because he'll be here himself so soon!" Poor Fanny! another week, and +still no letter, no tidings. "Oh! he must be ill!" she whispered, +anxiously, but never thought him false. Oh, no! she was too +single-hearted, too relying in her trust fora doubt so dreadful; but +her step grew heavier day by day--her cheek so very, very pale, +except at the post-man's hour, when it would burn with a feverish +brightness, and then fade to its former pallid hue again; her sweet +voice was heard no longer trilling forth those thrilling melodies +which had gladdened the heart of young and old to hear. The visits to +Dream-dell were less and less frequent, for now how each remembrance +so fondly connected with that spot, came fraught with pain; the works +of her favorite author's lay opened, but unread, upon her knee; and +the fastly-falling tears half-blotted out the impassioned words she +had once read with _him_ with so happy a heart-thrill. + +The widow saw with anxiety and alarm this sudden change; but she was +an invalid--and the poor suffering one strove to hide her sickness of +the heart, and mother though she was, Mrs. Layton discovered not the +canker-worm which was nipping her bud of promise, but would whisper, +"You confine yourself too much to my room, my child, and must go out +into the bright sunshine, so that the smile may come back to your lip, +the roses to your cheek." + +One day, now three months after Edward Morton's departure, Miss +Jerusha Simpkins was seen threading her way to Woodbine Cottage. She +held a newspaper carefully folded in her hand, and on her pinched and +withered face a mingled expression of caution and importance was +struggling. + +Lifting the latch of the embowered door, the spinster walked into the +small parlor, where Fanny Layton was engaged in feeding her pet +canaries; poor things! they were looking strangely at the wan face +beside the cage, as if they wondered if it could be the same which +used to come with wild warblings as sweet and untutored as their own. +Fanny turned to welcome the intruder, but recognized Miss Simpkins +with a half-drawn sigh, and a shrinking of the heart, for she was ever +so minute in her inquiries for that "runaway Mr. Morton." + +"A beautiful day, Miss Fanny," commenced the spinster, looking sharply +around, (she always made a point of doing two things i.e. entering the +houses of her neighbors without knocking, and then taking in at a +glance not only every thing the room contained, but the occupation, +dress, &c. of the inmates for after comment,) and then throwing back +her bonnet, and commencing to fan herself vigorously with the folded +paper, "I thought I must run round to-day and see how your mother did, +and bring her to-day's paper. I happened to be standing by the window +when the penny-post came by, and Nancy says to me, 'Jerusha,' says +she, 'do run to the door and get the Times--I haven't seen it for an +age,' for we aint no great readers at our house; so I steps to the +door and gets one from neighbor Wilkins--he is a very pleasant-spoken +man, and often drops in of a morning to have a chat with me and Nancy. +Well, what should I see the first thing (for I always turn to the +marriages and deaths) but Mr. Edward Morton's marriage to the elegant +and rich Miss--Miss--dear me! I've forgot the name now--do you see if +you can make it out," handing her the paper; "but, bless me! what is +the matter, Miss Fanny? I don't wonder you're surprised; Nancy and me +was--for we did think at one time that he had an attachment to +Aberdeen; but, la! one can't put any dependence on these wild-flys!" + +The last part of the cruel sentence was wholly lost upon poor Fanny, +who sat with fixed and stony gaze upon the dreadful announcement, +while it seemed as if her heart-strings were breaking one by one. In +vain Miss Simpkins, thoroughly alarmed at length, strove to rouse her +from this stupor of grief. In vain did her dear old nurse, who ran in +affrighted at the loud ejaculations of the terrified but unfeeling +creature who had dealt the blow, use every epithet of endearment, and +strive to win one look from the poor sufferer, into whose inmost soul +the iron had entered, upon whose heart a weight had fallen, that could +never, never be uplifted again on earth. Every effort alike was +useless; and for days she sat in one spot low murmuring a plaintive +strain, rocking to and fro, with the white rose, _his_ parting gift, +tightly clasped in her pale fingers, or gazing fixedly and vacantly +upon the birds who sang still, unconsciously above her head. After a +time she became more docile, and would retire to rest at night, at the +earnest entreaties of her poor old nurse--but reason's light, from +that fearful moment, was darkened evermore. She would suffer herself +to be led out into the open air, and soon grew fond again of being +with her old playmates, the children; but her words were +unintelligible now to them, and she would often throw down the wreath +she was twining, and starting up, would exclaim, in a tone that +thrilled to one's very heart, "Oh, has he come? Are you sure he has +not come yet--_my rose_ is almost _withered_?" + +Poor, poor Fanny Layton! She would go to church regularly--it was +there, dear reader, that her faded face had brought to me such +bewildered rememberings of the Fanny Layton of other years--and always +dressed in the same mock-bridal attire. And there was not an eye in +that village-church but glistened as it rested upon the poor, weary, +stricken one, in her mournful spirit-darkness, and no lip but murmured +brokenly, "Heaven bless her!" + +This was the last drop in the cup of the bereaved desolate widow. She +soon found that rest and peace "which the world cannot give or take +away." She sleeps her last, long, dreamless sleep. + +It was not long ere another mound was raised in the humble +church-yard, on which was ever blooming the sweetest and freshest +flowers of summer, watered by the tears of many who yet weep and +lament the early perishing of that fairest flower of all. And a marble +slab, on which is simply graven a dove, with an arrow driven to its +very heart, marks the last earthly resting-place of our Lily of the +Valley. + + + + +THE SPANISH PRINCESS TO THE MOORISH KNIGHT. + +BY GRACE GREENWOOD. + + + Thou darest not love me!--thou canst only see + The great gulf set between us--had'st thou _love_ + 'Twould bear thee o'er it on a wing of fire! + Wilt put from thy faint lip the mantling cup, + The draught thou'st prayed for with divinest thirst, + For fear a poison in the chalice lurks? + Wilt thou be barred from thy soul's heritage, + The power, the rapture, and the crown of life, + By the poor guard of danger set about it? + I tell thee that the richest flowers of heaven + Bloom on the brink of darkness. Thou hast marked + How sweetly o'er the beetling precipice + Hangs the young June-rose with its crimson heart-- + And would'st not sooner peril life to win + That royal flower, that thou might'st proudly wear + The trophy on thy breast, than idly pluck + A thousand meek-faced daisies by the way? + How dost thou shudder at Love's gentle tones, + As though a serpent's hiss were in thine ear. + Albeit thy heart throbs echo to each word. + Why wilt not rest, oh weary wanderer, + Upon the couch of flowers Love spreads for thee, + On banks of sunshine?--voices silver-toned + Shall lull thy soul with strange, wild harmonies, + Rock thee to sleep upon the waves of song. + Hope shall watch o'er thee with her breath of dreams. + Joy hover near, impatient for thy waking, + Her quick wing glancing through the fragrant air. + + Why dost thou pause hard by the rose-wreathed gate, + Why turn thee from the paradise of youth, + Where Love's immortal summer blooms and glows, + And wrap thyself in coldness as a shroud? + Perchance 'tis well for _thee_--yet does the flame + That glows with heat intense and mounts toward heaven. + As fitly emblem holiest purity, + As the still snow-wreath on the mountain's brow. + + Thou darest not say I love, and yet thou _lovest_, + And think'st to crush the mighty yearning down, + That in thy spirit shall upspring forever! + Twinned with thy soul, it lived in thy first thoughts-- + It haunted with strange dreams thy boyish years, + And colored with its deep, empurpled hue, + The passionate aspirations of thy youth. + Go, take from June her roses--from her streams + The bubbling fountain-springs--from life, take _love_, + Thou hast its all of sweetness, bloom and strength. + + There is a grandeur in the soul that dares + To live out all the life God lit within; + That battles with the passions hand to hand, + And wears no mail, and hides behind no shield! + That plucks its joy in the shadow of death's wing-- + That drains with one deep draught the wine of life, + And that with fearless foot and heaven-turned eye, + May stand upon a dizzy precipice, + High o'er the abyss of ruin, and not _fall_! + + + + +THE LIGHT OF OUR HOME. + +BY THOMAS BUCHANAN READ. + + + Oh, thou whose beauty on us beams + With glimpses of celestial light; + Thou halo of our waking dreams, + And early star that crown'st our night-- + + Thy light is magic where it falls; + To thee the deepest shadow yields; + Thou bring'st unto these dreary halls + The lustre of the summer-fields. + + There is a freedom in thy looks + To make the prisoned heart rejoice;-- + In thy blue eyes I see the brooks, + And hear their music in thy voice. + + And every sweetest bird that sings + Hath poured a charm upon thy tongue; + And where the bee enamored clings, + There surely thou in love hast clung:-- + + For when I hear thy laughter free, + And see thy morning-lighted hair, + As in a dream, at once I see + Fair upland scopes and valleys fair. + + I see thy feet empearled with dews, + The violet's and the lily's loss; + And where the waving woodland woos + Thou lead'st me over beds of moss;-- + + And by the busy runnel's side, + Whose waters, like a bird afraid, + Dart from their fount, and, flashing, glide + Athwart the sunshine and the shade. + + Or larger streams our steps beguile;-- + We see the cascade, broad and fair, + Dashed headlong down to foam, the while + Its iris-spirit leaps to air! + + Alas! as by a loud alarm, + The fancied turmoil of the falls + Hath driven me back and broke the charm + Which led me from these alien walls:-- + + Yes, alien, dearest child, are these + Close city walls to thee and me: + My homestead was embowered with trees, + And such thy heritage should be:-- + + And shall be;--I will make for thee + A home within my native vale + Where every brook and ancient tree + Shall whisper some ancestral tale. + + Now once again I see thee stand, + As down the future years I gaze, + The fairest maiden of the land-- + The spirit of those sylvan ways. + + And in thy looks again I trace + The light of her who gave thee birth; + She who endowed thy form and face + With glory which is not of Earth. + + And as I gaze upon her now, + My heart sends up a prayer for thee, + That thou may'st wear upon thy brow + The light which now she beams on me. + + And thou wilt wear that love and light + For thou'rt the bud to such a flower:-- + Oh fair the day, how blest and bright, + Which finds thee in thy native bower! + + + + +AN INDIAN-SUMMER RAMBLE. + +BY ALFRED B. STREET. + + +It was now the middle of October. White frosts had for some time been +spreading their sheets of pearl over the gardens and fields, but the +autumn rainbows in the forests were wanting. At last, however, the +stern black frost came and wrought its customary magic. For about a +week there was a gorgeous pageantry exhibited, "beautiful, +exceedingly." But one morning I awoke, and found that the mist had +made a common domain both of earth and sky. Every thing was merged +into a gray dimness. I could just discern the tops of trees a few feet +off, and here and there a chimney. There was a small bit of fence +visible, bordering "our lane," and I could with difficulty see a +glimmering portion of the village street. Some gigantic cloud appeared +to have run against something in the heavens and dropped down amongst +us. There were various outlines a few rods off, belonging to objects +we scarce knew what. Horses pushed out of the fog with the most sudden +effect, followed by their wagons, and disappeared again in the +opposite fleecy barrier; pedestrians were first seen like spectres, +then their whole shapes were exhibited, and finally they melted slowly +away again, whilst old Shadbolt's cow, grazing along the grassy margin +of the street, loomed up through the vapor almost as large as an +elephant. + +About noon the scene became clearer, so that the outline of the +village houses, and even the checkered splendors of the neighboring +woods could be seen; so much of Nate's sign, "Hammond's sto--" became +visible, and even Hamble's great red stage-coach was exhibited, +thrusting its tongue out as if in scorn of the weather. + +In the afternoon, however, the mist thickened again, and the whole +village shrunk again within it, like a turtle within its shell. The +next morning dawned without its misty mask, but with it rose a gusty +wind that commenced howling like a famished wolf. Alas! for the +glories of the woods! As the rude gusts rushed from the slaty clouds, +the rich leaves came fluttering upon them, blotting the air and +falling on the earth thick as snow-flakes. Now a maple-leaf, like a +scalloped ruby, would fly whirling over and over; next a birch one +would flash across the sight, as if a topaz had acquired wings; and +then a shred of the oak's imperial mantle, flushed like a sardonyx, +would cut a few convulsive capers in the air, like a clown in a +circus, and dash itself headlong upon the earth. Altogether it was an +exciting time, this fall of the leaf. Ah! a voice also was constantly +whispering in my ear, "we all do fade as the leaf!" + +I took a walk in the woods. What a commotion was there! The leaves +were absolutely frantic. Now they would sweep up far into the air as +if they never intended to descend again, and then taking curvatures, +would skim away like birds; others would cluster together, and then +roll along like a great quivering billow; others again would circle +around in eddies like whirlpools, soaring up now and then in the +likeness of a water-spout, whilst frequently tall columns would march +down the broad aisles of the forest in the most majestic manner, and +finally fall to pieces in a violent spasm of whirling atoms. Even +after the leaves had found their way to the earth they were by no +means quiet. Some skipped uneasily over the surface; some stood on one +leg, as it were, and pirouetted; some crept further and further under +banks; some ran merry races over the mounds, and some danced up and +down in the hollows. As for the trees themselves, they were cowering +and shivering at a tremendous rate, apparently from want of the cloaks +of which every blast was thus stripping them. + +A day or two after came the veritable soft-looking, sweet-breathing +Indian-Summer--"our thunder." No other clime has it. Autumn expires in +a rain-storm of three months in Italy; and it is choked to death with +a wet fog in England; but in this new world of ours, "our own green +forest land," as Halleck beautifully says, it swoons away often in a +delicious trance, during which the sky is filled with sleep, and the +earth hushes itself into the most peaceful and placid repose. There it +lies basking away until with one growl old Winter springs upon Nature, +locks her in icy fetters, and covers her bosom with a white mantle +that generally stays there until Spring comes with her soft eye and +blue-bird voice to make us all glad again. + +Well, this beautiful season arrived as aforesaid, and a day "turned +up" that seemed to be extracted from the very core of the season's +sweetness. The landscape was plunged into a thick mist at sunrise, but +that gradually dwindled away until naught remained but a delicate +dreamy film of tremulous purple, that seemed every instant as if it +would melt from the near prospect. Further off, however, the film +deepened into rich smoke, and at the base of the horizon it was +decided mist, bearing a tinge, however, borrowed from the wood-violet. +The mountains could be discerned, and that was all, and they only by +reason of a faint jagged line struggling through the veil proclaiming +their summits. The dome above was a tender mixture of blue and silver; +and as for the sunshine, it was tempered and shaded down into a tint +like the blush in the tinted hollow of the sea-shell. + +It was the very day for a ramble in the woods; so Benning, Watson, and +I, called at the dwelling of three charming sisters, to ask their +mamma's consent (and their own) to accompany us. These three Graces +all differed from each other in their styles of beauty. The eyes of +one were of sparkling ebony, those of the other looked as if the +"summer heaven's delicious blue" had stained them, whilst the third's +seemed as though they had caught their hue from the glittering gray +that is sometimes seen just above the gold of a cloudless sunset. + +We turned down the green lane that led from the village street, and +were soon in the forests. The half-muffled sunlight stole down sweetly +and tenderly through the chaos of naked branches overhead; and there +was a light crisp, crackling sound running through the dry fallen +leaves, as though they had become tired of their position, and were +striving to turn over. So quiet was the air that even this faint sound +was distinctly audible. Hark! whang! whang! there rings the woodman's +axe--crack! crash! b-o-o-m!--Hurrah! what thunder that little keen +instrument has waked up there, and what power it has! Say, ye wild, +deep forests, that have shrunk into rocky ravines, and retreated to +steep mountains, what caused ye to flee away from the valleys and +uplands of your dominion? Answer, fierce eagle! what drove thee from +thy pine of centuries to the desolate and wind-swept peak, where alone +thou couldst rear thy brood in safety? Tell, thou savage panther, what +made the daylight flash into thy den so suddenly, that thou didst +think thy eye-balls were extinguished? + +And thou, too, busy city, that dost point up thy spires where two +score years ago the forest stood a frown upon the face of Nature--what +mowed the way for thee? And, lastly, thou radiant grain-field, what +prepared the room for thy bright and golden presence? Whew! if that +isn't a tremendous flight, I don't know what is! But the axe, as Uncle +Jack Lummis says of his brown mare, is "a tarnal great critter, any +how!" + +How Settler Jake's cabin will gleam those approaching winter nights +from the "sticks" that axe of his will give him out of the tree he has +just prostrated. It is really pleasant to think of it. There will be +the great fire-place, with a huge block for a back-log; then a pile +will be built against it large enough for a bonfire--and then such a +crackling and streaming! why the dark night just around there will be +all in a blush with it. And the little window will glow like a red +star to the people of the village; and then within, there will be the +immense antlers over the door, belonging to a moose Jake shot the +first year he came into the country, all tremulous with the light, and +the long rifle thrust through it will glitter quick and keen; and the +scraped powder-horn hung by it will be transparent in redness; even +the row of bullets on the rude shelf near the window will give a dull +gleam, whilst our old acquaintance, the axe, will wink as if a dozen +eyes were strewn along its sharp, bright edge. And then the brown and +tortoise-shell cat belonging to the "old woman" will partake of the +lustre; and the old woman herself--a little, active, bustling body, +will be seated in one corner of the fire-place, after having swept +clean the hearth; and "Sport" will have coiled his long body on a +bear-skin near her. Lastly, the settler himself will be sitting upon a +stool opposite "Betsey," with his elbows on his knees, smoking a pipe +as black as his face at the "spring logging." But stop--where was I? +Oh, in the woods!" + +"Look! look!" cries Susan, the owner of the gray orbs, with an accent +of delight, "see that beautiful black squirrel eating!" + +We all looked, and sure enough, there is the little object in a nook +of warm bronze light, with his paws to his whiskered face, cracking +nuts, one after another, as fast as possible. But he stops, with his +paws still uplifted, looks askance for a moment, and away he shoots +then through the "brush-fence" at our side like a dart. + +We soon find the tree whence he gathered his fruit. It is a noble +hickory, with here and there a brown leaf clinging to its boughs. A +stone or two brings the globes that hold the nuts to the earth. They +have commenced cracking, and with a little exertion we uncover the +snow-white balls. We are now all determined to rob the tree. It has no +business to be displaying its round wealth so temptingly. And, beside, +it will, if let alone, most probably entice boys from the little black +school-house out yonder to "play truant." So it is unanimously voted +that Benning, who is light and active, should climb the tree. Up he +goes, like one of those little striped woodpeckers that are so often +seen in the woods tapping up the trees, and immediately his hands and +feet make the branches dance, whilst the green globes drop like great +hail-stones on the earth. We then commence stripping the nuts from +their covers, and soon the base of the tree is covered with them. We +then stow the ivories away in our bags, and start for new havoc. + +We come now to the brush-fence. It is a perfect _chevau-de-frize_. It +looks at us with a sort of defying, bristling air, as if it said as +Wilson, the horse-jockey, says when some one endeavors to hoodwink him +in a bargain, "You can't come it!" + +We wont try here, but a little lower down there is a gap made by John +Huff's cow, that uses her horns so adroitly in the attack of a fence, +no matter how difficult, that I verily believe she could pick a lock. +We pass through the kindly breach and skirt the fence for some little +distance to regain the path. The fence on this side is densely plumed +with blackberry vines. What a revel I held there two months ago. The +fruit hung around in rich masses of ebony, each little atom composing +the cone having a glittering spot upon it like a tiny eye. How the +black beauties melted on my tongue in their dead-ripe richness. One +bush in particular was heavy with the clusters. After despoiling the +edges I opened the heart, and there, hidden snugly away, as if for the +wood-fairies, were quantities of the sable clusters, larger and more +splendid than any I had seen. I immediately made my way into the +defences of that fortress. There was a merciless sacking there, +reader, allow me to tell you. But that is neither "here nor there" on +the present occasion. + +How beautifully the soft, tender dark light slumbers on objects where +the great roof of the forest will allow it. There is an edge of deep +golden lace gleaming upon that mound of moss, and here, the light, +breaking through the overhanging beech, has so mottled the tawny +surface of the leaves beneath as to make it appear as if a +leopard-skin had been dropped there. + +B-o-o-m, b-o-o-m, boom-boom--whi-r-r-r-r-r--there sounds the drum of +the partridge. We'll rouse his speckled lordship probably below, +causing him to give his low, quick thunder-clap so as to send the +heart on a leaping visit to the throat. + +We now descend the ridge upon which we have been for some time, to a +glade at the foot. The sweet haze belonging to the season is +shimmering over it. It is a broad space surrounded on all sides by the +forest. The first settler in this part of the country had "located" +himself here, and this was his little clearing. His hut stood on an +eminence in one corner. He lived there a number of years. He was a +reserved, unsocial man, making the forest his only haunt, and his +rifle his only companion. He was at last found dead in his cabin. +Alone and unattended he had died, keeping to the last aloof from human +society. The hut was next occupied by a singular couple--an old man +and his idiot son. The father was of a fierce, savage temper, but +seemed very fond, although capriciously so, of his child. Sometimes he +would treat him with the greatest tenderness, then again, at some +wayward action of the idiot, he would burst upon him with an awful +explosion of passion. The old man had evidently been a reckless +desperado in other days, and many in the village suspected strongly +that he had once been a pirate. He was addicted to drinking, and now +and then, when bitten by the adder, would talk strangely. He would +commence narrating some wonderful hurricane he had experienced on the +Spanish Main, and would launch out upon the number of times he had +headed boarding parties, and once, in a state of great intoxication at +the village tavern, he rambled off into a story about his having made +an old man walk the plank. He would, however, check himself on all +these occasions before he went far. He became involved in a fight one +time with a great lounging fellow about the village, whose propensity +to bully was the only salient point in his character. They +clinched--the old man was thrown, and the bystanders had just time to +pull the bully away, to prevent a long keen knife in the grasp of +Murdock (for such was the old man's name) from being plunged into his +side. + +Suddenly the idiot-boy disappeared. The passers-by had frequently seen +him (for he was an industrious lad) working in the little patch +belonging to the cabin, but from a certain time he was seen no more, +and the old man lived alone in his cabin. A change, too, gradually +grew over him. He became silent and deeply melancholy, and his +countenance settled into an expression of stern, rigid sorrow. His eye +was awful. Wild and red, it seemed as if you could look through it +into a brain on fire. + +At last he commenced rubbing his right hand with his left. There he +would fasten his gaze, and chafe with the most determined energy. He +would frequently stop and hold the hand to his eye for a moment, and +then recommence his strange work. To the inquiries of the village +people concerning his son, he would give no answer. He would roll upon +the inquirer for an instant his fierce, mad eye, and then prosecute +his mysterious chafing more rigorously than ever. + +Things continued so for about a fortnight after the disappearance of +the idiot, when one dark night the village was alarmed by the +appearance of flames from the clearing. Hurrying to the spot, they +were just in time to see the blazing roof of the hut fall in. The next +morning disclosed, amidst the smouldering ashes, a few charred bones. +Murdock was not again seen or heard of from that night. + +The glade is now quiet and lonely as if human passions had never been +unloosed there in the terrific crime of parricide--the consequent +remorse merging into madness, and a fiery retributory death. Upon the +grassy mound, which the frost has not yet blighted, a beautiful white +rabbit has just glided. The lovely creature darts onward, then +crouches--now lays his long ears flat upon his shoulders, and now +points them forward in the most knowing and cunning manner. He plays +there in his white, pure beauty, as if in purposed contrast to the +blood-stained and guilty wretch who expired on the same spot in his +flaming torture. But the little shape now points his long, rose-tinted +ears in our direction, and then he does not disappear as much as melt +from our sight like the vanishing of breath from polished steel. We +then enter fully into the glade. One of the trees at the border is a +magnificent chestnut. I remember it in June, with its rich green +leaves hung over with short, braided cords of pale gold. These braided +blossoms have yielded fruit most plenteously. How thickly the +chestnuts, with their autumn-colored coats and gray caps, are +scattered around the tree, whilst the large yellow burrs on the +branches, gaping wide open, are displaying their soft velvet inner +lining in which the embedded nuts have ripened, and which in their +maturity they have deserted. + +After changing the position of the little glossy things from the earth +to our satchels, we cross the glade, and strike a narrow road that +enters the forests in that direction. We pass along, our feet sinking +deep in the dead leaves, until we come to an opening where a bridge +spans a stream. It is a slight, rude structure, such as the emigrating +settler would (and probably did) make in a brief hour to facilitate +his passage across. Let us sketch the picture to our imagination for a +moment. We will suppose it about an hour to sunset of a summer's day. +There is a soft richness amidst the western trees, and the little +grassy opening here is dappled with light and shade. The emigrant's +wagon is standing near the brink, with its curved canvas top, white as +silver, in a slanting beam, and the broad tires of its huge wheels +stained green with the wood-plants and vines they have crushed in +their passage during the day. The patient oxen, which have drawn the +wagon so far, are chewing their cud, with their honest countenances +fixed straight forward. Around the wagon is hung a multitude of +household articles--pans, pails, kettles, brooms, and what not; and on +a heap of beds, bedding, quilts, striped blankets, &c., is the old +woman, the daughter, about eighteen, and a perfect swarm of +white-headed little ones. The father, and his two stalwort sons, are +busy in the forest close at hand. How merrily the echoes ring out at +each blow of their axes, and how the earth groans with the shock of +the falling trees. The two largest of the woodland giants are cut into +logs--the others are also divided into the proper lengths. The logs +are placed athwart the stream several feet distant from each +other--the rest are laid in close rows athwart, and lo! the bridge. +Over the whole scene the warm glow of the setting sun is spread, and a +black bear, some little distance in the forest, is thrusting his great +flat head out of a hollow tree, overseeing the proceedings with the +air of a connoisseur. + +The bridge is now old and black, and has decayed and been broken into +quite a picturesque object. One of the platform pieces has been +fractured in the middle, and the two ends slant upwards, as if to take +observations of the sky; and there is a great hole in the very centre +of the bridge. Add to this the moss, which has crept over the whole +structure, making what remains of the platform a perfect cushion, and +hanging in long flakes of emerald, which fairly dip in the water, and +the whole object is before you. The stream has a slow, still motion, +with eddies, here coiling up into wrinkles like an old man's face, and +there dimpling around some stone like the smiling cheek of a young +maiden, but in no case suffering its demureness to break into a broad +laugh of ripples. In one spot tall bullrushes show their slender +shapes and brown wigs; in another there is a collection of waterflags; +in another there are tresses of long grass streaming in the light flow +of the current, whilst in a nook, formed by the roots of an immense +elm on one side, and a projection of the bank on the other, is a thick +coat of stagnant green--a perfect meadow for the frogs to hold their +mass meetings in, differing from ours, however, from the fact of +theirs being composed of all talkers and no listeners. + +Let us look at the stream a little, which has here expanded into a +broad surface, and view its "goings on." There is a water-spider +taking most alarming leaps, as if afraid of wetting his feet; a +dragon-fly is darting hither and yon, his long, slender body flashing +with green, golden and purple hues; a large dace has just apparently +flattened his nose against the dark glass inward, dotting a great and +increasing period outward. A bright birch-leaf, "the last of its +clan," has just fallen down, and been snapped at most probably by a +little spooney of a trout, thinking it a yellow butterfly; and on the +bottom, which, directly under our eyes is shallow, are several +water-insects crawling along like locomotive spots of shadow and +reflected through the tremulous medium into distorted shapes. However, +we have lingered here long enough--let us onward. + +What on earth is that uproar which is now striking our ear. Such +hoarse notes, such rapid flutterings, whizzings, deep rumbling sounds, +and such a rustle of dead leaves surely betoken something. We turn an +elbow of the road, and a flashing of blue wings, and darting of blue +shapes in the air, now circling round, now shooting up, and now down, +with a large beech tree for the centre, meet our eyes. The tumult is +explained. A colony of wild pigeons is busy amongst the beech-nuts, +which the frost has showered upon the earth. The ground for some +distance around the tree is perfectly blue with the birds picking, and +fighting, and scrambling. It is ludicrous to see them. Here a score or +two are busy eating, looking like a collection of big-paunched, +blue-coated aldermen at a city feast; there, all are hurrying and +jostling, and tumbling over one another like the passengers of a +steamboat when the bell rings for dinner. By the side of yonder bush +there is a perfect duel transpiring between two pugnacious pigeons +dashing out their wings fiercely at each other with angry tones, their +beautiful purple necks all swollen, and their red eyes casting +devouring looks, whilst two others are very quietly, yet swiftly, as +if making the most of their time, causing all the nuts in sight, and +which probably induced the quarrel, disappear down their own throats. +See! here is a pigeon who has over-estimated his capacity of +swallowing, or has encountered a larger nut than usual, for he is +exhibiting the most alarming symptoms of choking. He stretches his +neck and opens his bill like a cock in the act of crowing, at the same +time dancing up and down on his pink legs as if his toes had caught +fire. However, he has mastered the nut at last with a vigorous shake +of his neck, and bobs industriously again at his feast. + +Determining to have some of the brown luscious mast, we make a foray +amongst the gorging host, and succeeded in causing a cloud of them to +take wing, and in securing a quantity of the spoil. + +We then start again on our way, but do not advance far +before--b-r-r-r-r-r-h--off bursts a partridge, and shoots down the +vista of the road, with the dark sunshine glancing from his mottled +back. If little "Spitfire" was here, how he would yelp and dance, and +dart backward and forward, and shake his tail, so as to render it +doubtful whether it wouldn't fly off in a tangent. + +Rattat, tattat, tat--tat--t-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r--there is the great +red-headed woodpecker, or woodcock, as he is called by the country +people, looking like a miniature man with a crimson turban and sable +spear, attacking the bark of yon old oak. He is making a +sounding-board of the seamed mail of the venerable monarch, to detect +by the startled writhing within the grub snugly ensconced, as it +thinks, there, in order to transfix it with his sharp tongue through +the hole made by his bill. He ceases his work though as we +approach--and now he flies away. + +A mile farther, we come to the strawberry-field belonging to Deacon +Gravespeech, the outlines of whose dark, low farm-house are etched on +the mist which is again slowly spreading over the landscape, for it is +now near sunset. Having left the forest, we see the mild red orb, like +an immense ruby, just in the act of sinking in the bank of pale blue +which now thickens the Western horizon. But what have we here? A +splendid butternut tree, with quantities of the oval fruit scattered +about amidst the brown leaves, in their coats of golden green. What a +rich lustre is upon them, made brighter by the varnish, and how +delightful their pungent perfume. Let us crack a few of the strong, +deeply-fluted shells. In their tawny nooks nestle the dark, +golden-veined meats, which with the most delicious sweetness crumble +in the mouth. + +Of all the fruits of the Northern forests give me the butternut; and, +speaking of fruits puts me in mind of the strawberry field. I was here +with a small party one day last June. The field was then scattered +thickly over with the bright crimson spotting fruit, and the fingers +of all of us were soon dyed deeply with the sweet blood. There is +great skill in picking strawberries, let me tell you, reader, although +it is a trifle. Go to work systematically, and don't get excited. +Gather all as you go, indiscriminately. Don't turn to the right for +two splendid berries, and leave the one in front, for it is just as +likely, before you gather the two, a cluster, with five ripe tempting +fellows, will cause you to forget the others, and in whirling yourself +around, and stretching over to seize the latest prize, your feet and +limbs not only destroy the first and second, but a whole collection of +the blushing beauties hid away in a little hollow of buttercups and +dandelions. + +Well, "as I was saying," I was here with a small party, and had fine +sport picking, but the next day a precept, at the suit of Peter +Gravespeech, was served upon Hull and myself, (the two gentlemen of +the party,) issued from "Pettifogger's Delight," as the office of +Squire Tappit, the justice, was called throughout the village: action, +trespass. "For the fun of the thing" we stood trial. The day came, and +all the vagabonds of the village,--those whose continual cry is that +they "can never get any thing to do," and therefore drive a brisk +business at doing nothing,--were in attendance. The justice was a +hot-tempered old fellow, somewhat deaf, and,--if his nose was any +evidence,--fond of the brandy bottle. + +The witness of the trespass, who was a "hired hand" of Deacon +Gravespeech, was present, and after the cause had been called in due +order, was summoned by the deacon (who appeared in proper person) to +the stand. He was generally very irascible, a good deal of a bully, +rather stupid, and, on the present occasion, particularly drunk. + +"Now, Mr. Hicks," said the deacon, respectfully, (knowing his man,) +after he had 'kissed the book,' "now, Mr. Hicks (his name was Joe +Hicks, but universally called 'Saucy Joe,') please tell the justice +what you know of this transaction." + +"Well, squire, I seed 'em!" replied Joe, to this appeal, facing the +justice. + +"Who?" ejaculated the justice, quickly. + +"Who!" answered Joe, "why, who do you spose, but that'ere sour-faced +feller, (pointing at Hull,) what looks like a cow swelled on clover, +and that 'ere little nimshi, who isn't bigger than my Poll's knitten +needle. They was with four female critters." + +"Well, what were they about?" asked the deacon. + +"What was they about!" (a little angrily,) "you know as well as I do, +deacon, for I telled ye all about it at the time." + +"Yes, but you must tell the justice." + +"Answer, witness!" exclaimed the justice, somewhat sternly. + +"Oh! you needn't be flusterfied, Squire Tappit; I knowed ye long afore +ye was squire, and drinked with ye, too. For that matter, I stood +treat last!" + +"That's of no consequence now, Mr. Hicks," interposed the deacon, +throwing at the same time a deprecatory glance at the old justice, +whose nose was growing redder, and whose eye began to twinkle in +incipient wrath. + +"Let the gentleman proceed with his interesting developments," said +Hull, rising with the most ludicrous gravity, and waving his hand in a +solemn and dignified manner. + +"Well," said Joe, a little mollified at the word 'gentleman,' "ef I +must tell it agin, I must, that's all. They was a picken strawberries +like Old Sanko." + +"How long do you think they were there, trampling down the grass?" +asked the deacon. + +"Why, I spose from the time I seed 'em"--here he stopped abruptly, +glanced out of the window toward the tavern, spit thirstily, and then +looked at the deacon. + +"Let the gentleman proceed," again cried Hull, half rising, in mock +respect. + +"_Pro_ceed!" said the justice, angrily. + +"Well, as I was a sayen, from the time I seed 'em---- But I say, +deacon, I'm monstrous dry. You're temp'rance I know; but sposen as how +you treat me and old Squire Tappit there to some red eye. He won't +refuse, no how you can fix it, and as for me, I am so dry I really +can't talk." + +"Go on with your story, you scoundrel!" shouted the justice, +exasperated beyond all bounds, "or I'll commit you to prison." + +"Commit me to prison, you old brandy-jug!" yelled Joe, swinging off +his ragged coat at a jerk, and throwing it on the floor, "commit _me_, +you mahogany-nosed old sarpent!" advancing close to the justice, with +both of his great fists ready. + +"Let the gentleman proceed," here broke in Hull again, in an agony of +laughter. + +And, sure enough, the "gentleman" did proceed. Launching out his right +fist in the most approved fashion at the nose of the justice, Joe was +in an instant the center of a perfect Pandemonium. The constable +rushed in to protect the justice, who was shouting continually, "I +command the peace;" the bystanders, ready for a fight at any time, +followed his example, and, for a few minutes, there was a perfect +chaos of arms, legs, and heads, sticking out in every direction. + +The first thing Hull and I saw were the heels of the justice +flourishing in the air, and the last was Joe going off to jail in the +grasp of the constable one way, and the deacon sneaking off another. +We never heard afterward of the suit, but "Let the gentleman proceed," +was for a long time a by-word amongst us in the village. + +After crossing the strawberry field we came to a "cross-road" leading +to the turnpike. In a few minutes we arrived at "Cold Spring," where a +little streak of water ran through a hollowed log, green with moss, +from the fountain a short distance in the forest, and fell into a +pebbly basin at the road-side. We here refreshed ourselves with +repeated draughts of the sweet, limpid element, and then, resuming our +walk, soon found ourselves upon the broad, gray turnpike, with the +village upon the summit of the hill, about half a mile in front. + +The sun had long since plunged into the slate-colored haze of the +West; the thickening landscape looked dull and faded; the mist was +glimmering before the darkened forests; the cows were wending +homeward, lowing; the woodsmen passed us with axes on their shoulders; +and, mounting the hill, we saw here and there, a light sparkling in +the village, following the example of the scattered stars that were +timidly glancing from the dome of the purpled heavens. + + + + +THE LOST PET + +BY MRS. LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY. + +[SEE ENGRAVING.] + + + When Mary's brother went to sea, + He lingered near the door, + Beside the old, familiar tree, + He ne'er had left before, + + And though gay boyhood loves to seek + New regions where to tread, + A pearl-drop glittered on his cheek + As tenderly he said-- + + "The gentle dove I reared with care, + Sister, I leave to thee, + And let it thy protection share + When I am far at sea." + + Whene'er for Willy's loss she grieved, + His darling she caressed, + That from her hand its food received, + Or nestled in her breast; + + And sometimes, at the twilight dim, + When blossoms bow to sleep, + She thought it murmuring asked for him + Whose home was on the deep. + + And if her mother's smile of joy + Was lost in anxious thought, + As memories of her sailor-boy + Some gathering tempest wrought, + + She showed his pet, the cooing dove, + Perched on her sheltering arm, + And felt how innocence and love + Can rising wo disarm. + + When summer decked the leafy bowers, + And pranked the russet plain, + She bore his cage where breathing flowers + Inspired a tuneful strain; + + And now and then, through open door, + Indulged a wish to roam, + Though soon, the brief excursion o'er, + The wanderer sought its home. + + She laughed to see it brush the dew + From bough and budding spray. + And deemed its snow-white plumage grew + More beauteous, day by day. + + The rose of June was in its flush, + And 'neath the fragrant shade + Of her own fullest, fairest bush + The favorite's house was staid, + + While roving, bird-like, here and there, + Amid her flow'rets dear, + She culled a nosegay, rich and rare, + A mother's heart to cheer. + + A shriek! A flutter! Swift as thought + Her startled footstep flew, + But full of horror was the sight + That met her eager view-- + + Her treasure in a murderer's jaws! + One of that feline race + Whose wily looks and velvet paws + Conceal their purpose base. + + And scarce the victim's gushing breast + Heaved with one feeble breath, + Though raised to hers, its glance exprest + Affection even in death. + + Oh, stricken child! though future years + May frown with heavier shade, + When woman's lot of love and tears + Is on thy spirit laid-- + + Yet never can a wilder cry + Thy heart-wrung anguish prove + Than when before thy swimming eye + Expired that wounded dove. + + +[Illustration: THE LOST PET +Engraved Expressly for Graham's Magazine +Figure from I. M. Wright. Drawn with original scenery & engraved by Ellis.] + + + + +FIEL A LA MUERTE, OR TRUE LOVE'S DEVOTION. + +A TALE OF THE TIMES OF LOUIS QUINZE. + +BY HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT, AUTHOR OF "THE ROMAN TRAITOR," +"MARMADUKE WYVIL," "CROMWELL," ETC. + +(_Concluded from page_ 91.) + + +PART III. + + For there were seen in that dark wall, + Two niches, narrow, dark and tall. + Who enters by such grisly door, + Shall ne'er, I ween, find exit more.--WALTER SCOTT. + +It would be wonderful, were it not of daily occurrence, and to be +observed by all who give attention to the characteristics of the human +mind, how quickly confidence, even when shaken to its very +foundations, and almost obliterated, springs up again, and recovers +all its strength in the bosoms of the young of either sex. + +Let but a few more years pass over the heart, and when once broken, if +it be only by a slight suspicion, or a half unreal cause, it will +scarce revive again in a life-time; nor then, unless proofs the +strongest and most unquestionable can be adduced to overpower the +doubts which have well-nigh annihilated it. + +In early youth, however, before long contact with the world has +blunted the susceptibilities, and hardened the sympathies of the soul, +before the constant experience of the treachery, the coldness, the +ingratitude of men has given birth to universal doubt and general +distrust, the shadow vanishes as soon as the cloud which cast it is +withdrawn, and the sufferer again believes, alas! too often, only to +be again deceived. + +Thus it was with St. Renan, who a few minutes before had given up even +the last hope, who had ceased, as he thought, to believe even in the +possibility of faith or honor among men, of constancy, or purity, or +truth in women, no sooner saw his Melanie, whom he knew to be the wife +of another, solitary and in tears, no sooner felt her inanimate form +reclining on his bosom, than he was prepared to believe any thing, +rather than believe her false. + +Indeed, her consternation at his appearance, her evident dismay, not +unnatural in an age wherein skepticism and infidelity were marvelously +mingled with credulity and superstition, her clear conviction that it +was not himself in mortal blood and being, did go far to establish the +fact, that she had been deceived either casually or--which was far +more probable--by foul artifice, into the belief that her beloved and +plighted husband was no longer with the living. + +The very exclamation which she uttered last, ere she sunk senseless +into his arms, uttered, as she imagined, in the presence of the +immortal spirit of the injured dead, "I am true, Raoul--true to the +last, my beloved!" rang in his ears with a power and a meaning which +convinced him of her veracity. + +"She could not lie!" he muttered to himself, "in the presence of the +living dead! God be praised! she is true, and we shall yet be happy!" + +How beautiful she looked, as she lay there, unconscious and insensible +even of her own existence. If time and maturity had improved Raoul's +person, and added the strength and majesty of manhood to the grace and +pliability of youth, infinitely more had it bestowed on the beauty of +his betrothed. He had left her a beautiful girl just blooming out of +girlhood, he found her a mature, full-blown woman, with all the flush +and flower of complete feminine perfection, before one charm has +become too luxuriant, or one drop of the youthful dew exhaled from the +new expanded blossom. + +She had shot up, indeed, to a height above the ordinary stature of +women--straight, erect, and graceful as a young poplar, slender, yet +full withal, exquisitely and voluptuously rounded, and with every +sinuous line and swelling curve of her soft form full of the poetry +and beauty both of repose and motion. + +Her complexion was pale as alabaster; even her cheeks, except when +some sudden tide of passion, or some strong emotion sent the impetuous +blood coursing thither more wildly than its wont, were colorless, but +there was nothing sallow or sickly, nothing of that which is +ordinarily understood by the word pallid, in their clear, warm, +transparent purity; nothing, in a word, of that lividness which the +French, with more accuracy than we, distinguish from the healthful +paleness which is so beautiful in southern women. + +Her hair, profuse almost to redundance, was perfectly black, but of +that warm and lustrous blackness which is probably the hue expressed +by the ancient Greeks by the term hyacinthine, and which in certain +lights has a purplish metallic gloss playing over it, like the varying +reflections on the back of the raven. Her strongly defined, and nearly +straight eyebrows, were dark as night, as were the long, silky lashes +which were displayed in clear relief against the fair, smooth cheek, +as the lids lay closed languidly over the bright blue eyes. + +It was a minute or two before Melanie moved or gave any symptoms of +recovering from her fainting fit, and during those minutes the lips of +Raoul had been pressed so often and so warmly to those of the fair +insensible, that had any spark of perception remained to her, the fond +and lingering pressure could not have failed to call the "purple +light of love," to her ingenuous face. + +At length a long, slow shiver ran through the form of the senseless +girl, and thrilled, like the touch of the electric wire, every nerve +in St. Renan's body. + +Then the soft rosy lips were unclosed, and forth rushed the ambrosial +breath in a long, gentle sigh, and the beautiful bust heaved and +undulated, like the bosom of the calm sea, when the first breathings +of the coming storm steal over it, and wake, as if by sympathy, its +deep pulsations. + +He clasped her closer to his heart, half fearful that when life and +perfect consciousness should be restored to that exquisite frame, it +would start from his embrace, if not in anger or alarm, at least as if +from a forbidden and illicit pleasure. + +Gradually a faint rosy hue, slight as the earliest blushes of the +morning sky, crept over her white cheeks, and deepened into a rich +passionate flush; and at the same moment the azure-tinctured lids were +unclosed slowly, and the large, radiant, bright-blue eyes beamed up +into his own, half languid still, but gleaming through their dewy +languor, with an expression which he must have been, indeed, blind to +mistake for aught but the strongest of unchanged, unchangeable +affection. + +It was evident that she knew him now; that the momentary terror, +arising rather, perhaps, from fear than from superstition, which had +converted the young ardent soldier into a visitant from beyond those +gloomy portals through which no visitant returns, had passed from her +mind, and that she had already recognized, although she spoke not, her +living lover. + +And though she recognized him, she sought not to withdraw herself from +the enclosure of his sheltering arms, but lay there on his bosom, with +her head reclined on his shoulder, and her eyes drinking long draughts +of love from his fascinated gaze, as if she were his own, and that her +appropriate place of refuge and protection. + +"Oh! Raoul," she exclaimed, at length, in a low, soft whisper, "is it, +indeed, you--you, whom I have so long wept as dead--you, whom I was +even now weeping as one lost to me forever, when you are thus restored +to me!" + +"It is I, Melanie," he answered mournfully, "it is I, alive, and in +health; but better far had I been in truth dead, as they have told +you, rather than thus a survivor of all happiness, of all hopes; +spared only from the grave to know _you_ false, and myself forgotten." + +"Oh, no, Raoul, not false!" she cried wildly, as she started from his +arms, "oh, not forgotten! think you," she added, blushing crimson, +"that had I loved any but you, that had I not loved you with my whole +heart and being, I had lain thus on your bosom, thus endured your +caresses? Oh, no, no, never false! nor for one moment forgotten?" + +"But what avails it, if you do love no other--what profits it, if you +do love me? Are you not--are you not, false girl,--alas! that these +lips should speak it,--the wife of another--the promised mistress of +the king?" + +"I--I--Raoul!" she exclaimed, with such a blending of wonder and +loathing in her face, such an expression of indignation on her tongue, +that her lover perceived at once, that, whatever might be the infamy +of her father, of her husband, of this climax of falsehood and +self-degradation, she, at least, was guiltless. + +"The mistress of the king! what king? what mean you? are you +distraught?" + +"Ha! you are ignorant, you are innocent of that, then. You are not yet +indoctrinated into the noble uses for which your honorable lord +intends you. It is the town's talk, Melanie. How is it you, whom it +most concerns, alone have not heard it?" + +"Raoul," she said, earnestly, imploringly, "I know not if there be any +meaning in your words, except to punish me, to torture me, for what +you deem my faithlessness, but if there be, I implore you, I conjure +you, by your father's noble name; by your mother's honor, show me the +worst; but listen to me first, for by the God that made us both, and +now hears my words, I am not faithless." + +"Not faithless? Are you not the wife of another?" + +"No!" she replied enthusiastically. "I am not. For I am yours, and +while you live I cannot wed another. Whom God hath joined man cannot +put asunder." + +"I fear me that plea will avail us little," Raoul answered. "But say +on, dearest Melanie, and believe that there is nothing you can ask +which I will not give you gladly--even if it were my own life-blood. +Say on, so shall we best arrive at the truth of this intricate and +black affair." + +"Mark me, then, Raoul, for every word I shall speak is as true as the +sun in heaven. It is near two years now since we heard that you had +fallen in battle, and that your body had been carried off by the +barbarians. Long! long I hoped and prayed, but prayers and hopes were +alike in vain. I wrote to you often, as I promised, but no line from +you has reached me, since the day when you sailed for India, and that +made me fear that the dread news was true. But at the last, to make +assurance doubly sure, all my own letters were returned to me six +months since, with their seals unbroken, and an endorsement from the +authorities in India that the person addressed was not to be found. +Then hope itself was over; and my father, who never from the first had +doubted that you were no more--" + +"Out on him! out on him! the heartless villain!" the young man +interrupted her indignantly. "He knows, as well as I myself, that I am +living; although it is no fault of his or his coadjutors that I am so. +He knows not as yet, however, that I am _here_; but he shall know it +ere long to his cost, my Melanie." + +"At least," she answered in a faltering voice, "at least he _swore_ to +me that you were dead; and never having ceased to persecute me, since +the day that fatal tidings reached, to become the wife of La +Rochederrien, now Marquis de Ploermel, he now became doubly urgent--" + +"And you, Melanie! you yielded! I had thought you would have died +sooner." + +"I had no choice but to yield, Raoul. Or at least but the choice of +that old man's hand, or an eternal dungeon. The _lettres de cachet_ +were signed, and you dead, and on the conditions I extorted from the +marquis, I became in name, Raoul, only in name, by all my hopes of +Heaven! the wife of the man whom you pronounce, wherefore, I cannot +dream, the basest of mankind. Now tell me." + +"And did it never strike you as being wonderful and most unnatural +that this Ploermel, who is neither absolutely a dotard nor an old +woman, should accept your hand upon this condition?" + +"I was too happy to succeed in extorting it to think much of that," +she answered. + +"_Extorted!_" replied Raoul bitterly, "And how, I pray you, is this +condition which you extorted ratified or made valid?" + +"It is signed by himself, and witnessed by my own father, that, being +I regard myself the wife of the dead, he shall ask no more of +familiarity from me than if I were the bride of heaven!" + +"The double villains!" + +"But wherefore villains, Raoul?" exclaimed Melanie. + +"I tell you, girl, it is a compact--a base, hellish compact--with the +foul despot, the disgrace of kings, the opprobrium of France, who sits +upon the throne, dishonoring it daily! A compact such as yet was never +entered into by a father and a husband, even of the lowest of mankind! +A compact to deliver you a spotless virgin-victim to the vile-hearted +and luxurious tyrant. Curses! a thousand curses on his soul! and on my +own soul! who have fought and bled for him, and all to meet with this, +as my reward of service!" + +"Great God! can these things be," she exclaimed, almost fainting with +horror and disgust. "Can these things indeed be? But speak, Raoul, +speak; how can you know all this?" + +"I tell you, Melanie, it is the talk, the very daily, hourly gossip of +the streets, the alleys, nay, even the very kennels of Paris. Every +one knows it--every one believes it, from the monarch in the Louvre to +the lowest butcher of the Faubourg St. Antoine! + +"And they believe it--of me, of _me_, they believe this infamy!" + +"With this addition, if any addition were needed, that you are not a +deceived victim, but a willing and proud participator in the shame." + +"I will--that is--" she corrected herself, speaking very rapidly and +energetically--"I _would_ die sooner. But there is no need now to die. +You have come back to me, and all will yet go well with us!" + +"It never can go well with us again," St. Renan answered gloomily. +"The king never yields his purpose, he is as tenacious in his hold as +reckless in his promptitude to seize. And they are paid beforehand." + +"Paid!" exclaimed the girl, shuddering at the word. "What atrocity! +How paid?" + +"How, think you, did your good father earn his title and the rich +governorship of Morlaix? What great deeds were rewarded to La +Rochederrien by his marquisate, and this captaincy of mousquetaires. +You know not yet, young lady, what virtue there is nowadays in being +the accommodating father, or the convenient husband of a beauty!" + +"You speak harshly, St. Renan, and bitterly." + +"And if I do, have I not cause enough for bitterness and harshness?" +he replied almost angrily. + +"Not against me, Raoul." + +"I am not bitter against you, Melanie. And yet--and yet--" + +"And yet _what_, Raoul?" + +"And yet had you resisted three days longer, we might have been +saved--you might have been mine--" + +"I am yours, Raoul de St. Renan. Yours, ever and forever! No one's but +only yours." + +"You speak but madness--your vow--the sacrament!" + +"To the winds with my vow--to the abyss with the fraudful sacrament!" +she cried, almost fiercely. By sin it was obtained and sanctioned--in +sin let it perish. I say--I swear, Raoul, if you will take me, I am +yours." + +"Mine? Mine?" cried the young man, half bewildered. "How mine, and +when?" + +"Thus," she replied, casting herself upon his breast, and winding her +arms around his neck, and kissing his lips passionately and often. +"Thus, Raoul, thus, and now!" + +He returned her embrace fondly once, but the next instant he removed +her almost forcibly from his breast, and held her at arm's length. + +"No, no!" he exclaimed, "not thus, not thus! If at all, honestly, +openly, holily, in the face of day! May my soul perish, ere cause come +through me why you should ever blush to show your front aloft among +the purest and the proudest. No, no, not thus, my own Melanie!" + +The girl burst into a paroxysm of tears and sobbing, through which she +hardly could contrive to make her interrupted and faultering words +audible. + +"If not now," she said at length, "it will never be. For, hear me, +Raoul, and pity me, to-morrow they are about to drag me to Paris." + +The lover mused for several moments very deeply, and then replied, +"Listen to me, Melanie. If you are in earnest, if you are true, and +can be firm, there may yet be happiness in store for us, and that very +shortly." + +"Do you doubt me, Raoul?" + +"I do not doubt you, Melanie. But ever as in my own wildest rapture, +even to gain my own extremest bliss, I would not do aught that could +possibly cast one shadow on your pure renown, so, mark me, would I not +take you to my heart were there one spot, though it were but as a +speck in the all-glorious sun, upon the brightness of your purity." + +"I believe you, Raoul. I feel, I know that my honor, that my purity is +all in all to you. + +"I would die a thousand deaths," he made answer, "ere even a false +report should fall on it, to mar its virgin whiteness. Marvel not +then that I ask as much of you." + +"Ask anything, St. Renan. It _is_ granted." + +"In France we can hope for nothing. But there are other lands than +France. We must fly; and thanks to these documents which you have +wrung from them, and the proofs which I can easily obtain, this cursed +marriage can be set aside, and then, in honor and in truth you can be +mine, mine own Melanie." + +"God grant it so, Raoul." + +"It shall be so, beloved. Be you but firm, and it may be done right +speedily. I will sell the estates of St. Renan--by a good chance, +supposing me dead, the Lord of Yrvilliac was in treaty for it with my +uncle. That can be arranged forthwith. Conduct yourself according to +your wont, cool and as distant as may be with this villain of +Ploermel; avoid above all things to let your father see that you are +buoyed by any hope, or moved by any passion. Treat the king with +deliberate scorn, if he approach you over boldly. Beware how you eat +or drink in his company, for he is capable of all things, even of +drugging you into insensibility, and here," he added, taking a small +poniard, of exquisite workmanship, with a gold hilt and scabbard, from +his girdle, and giving it to her, "wear _this_ at all times, and if he +dare attempt violence, were he thrice a king, _use it_!" + +"I will--I will--trust me, Raoul! I _will_ use it, and that to his +sorrow! My heart is strong, and my hand brave _now_--now that I know +you to be living. Now that I have hope to nerve me, I will fear +nothing, but dare all things." + +"Do so, do so, my beloved, and you shall have no cause to fear, for I +will be ever near you. I will tarry here but one day; and ere you +reach Paris, I will be there, be certain. Within ten days, I doubt not +I can convert my acres into gold, and ship that gold across the narrow +straits; and that done, the speed of horses, and a swift sailing ship +will soon have us safe in England; and if that land be not so fair, or +so dear as our own France, at least there are no tyrants there, like +this Louis; and there are laws, they say, which guard the meanest man +as safely and as surely as the proudest noble." + +"A happy land, Raoul. I would that we were there even now." + +"We will be there ere long, fear nothing. But tell me, whom have you +near your person on whom we may rely. There must be some one through +whom we may communicate in Paris. It may be that I shall require to +see you." + +"Oh! you remember Rose, Raoul--little Rose Faverney, who has lived +with me ever since she was a child--a pretty little black-eyed +damsel." + +"Surely I do remember her. Is she with you yet? That will do +admirably, then, if she be faithful, as I think she is; and unless I +forget, what will serve us better yet, she loves my page Jules de +Marliena. He has not forgotten her, I promise you." + +"Ah! Jules--we grow selfish, I believe, as we grow old, Raoul. I have +not thought to ask after one of your people. So Jules remembers little +Rose, and loves her yet; that will, indeed, secure her, even had she +been doubtful, which she is not. She is as true as steel--truer, I +fear, than even I; for she reproached me bitterly four evenings since, +and swore she would be buried alive, much more willingly imprisoned, +than be married to the Marquis de Ploermel, though she was only +plighted to the Vicomte Raoul's page! Oh! we may trust in her with all +certainty." + +"Send her, then, on the very same night that you reach Paris, so soon +as it is dark, to my uncle's house in the Place de St. Louis. I think +she knows it, and let her ask--not for me--but for Jules. Ere then I +will know something definite of our future; and fear nothing, love, +all shall go well with us. Love such as ours, with faith, and right, +and honesty and honor to support it, cannot fail to win, blow what +wind may. And now, sweet Melanie, the night is wearing onward, and I +fear that they may miss you. Kiss me, then, once more, sweet girl, and +farewell." + +"Not for the last, Raoul," she cried, with a gay smile, casting +herself once again into her lover's arms, and meeting his lips with a +long, rapturous kiss. + +"Not by a thousand, and a thousand! But now, angel, farewell for a +little space. I hate to bid you leave me, but I dare not ask you to +stay; even now I tremble lest you should be missed and they should +send to seek you. For were they but to suspect that I am here and have +seen you, it would, at the best, double all our difficulties. Fare you +well, sweetest Melanie." + +"Fare you well," she replied; "fare you well, my own best beloved +Raoul," and she put up the glittering dagger, as she spoke, into the +bosom of her dress; but as she did so, she paused and said, "I wish +_this_ had not been your first gift to me, Raoul, for they say that +such gifts are fatal, to love at least, if not to life." + +"Fear not! fear not!" answered the young man, laughing gayly, "our +love is immortal. It may defy the best steel blade that was ever +forged on Milan stithy to cut it asunder. Fare you--but, hush! who +comes here; it is too late, yet fly--fly, Melanie!" + +But she did not fly, for as he spoke, a tall, gayly dressed cavalier +burst through the coppice on the side next the chateau d'Argenson, +exclaiming, "So, my fair cousin!--this is your faith to my good +brother of Ploermel is it?" + +But, before he spoke, she had whispered to Raoul, "It is the Chevalier +de Pontrein, de Ploermel's half brother. Alas! all is lost." + +"Not so! not so!" answered her lover, also in a whisper, "leave him to +me, I will detain him. Fly, by the upper pathway and through the +orchard to the chateau, and remember--you have not seen this dog. So +much deceit is pardonable. Fly, I say, Melanie. Look not behind for +your life, whatever you may hear, nor tarry. All rests now on your +steadiness and courage." + +"Then all is safe," she answered firmly and aloud, and without casting +a glance toward the cavalier, who was now within ten paces of her +side, or taking the smallest notice of his words, she kissed her hand +to St. Renan, and bounded up the steep path, in the opposite +direction, with so fleet a step as soon carried her beyond the sound +of all that followed, though that was neither silent nor of small +interest. + +"Do you not hear me, madam. By Heaven! but you carry it off easily!" +cried the young cavalier, setting off at speed, as if to follow her. +"But you must run swifter than a roe if you look to 'scape me;" and +with the words, he attempted to rush past Raoul, of whom he affected, +although he knew him well, to take no notice. + +But in that intent he was quickly frustrated, for the young count +grasped him by the collar as he endeavored to pass, with a grasp of +iron, and said to him in an ironical tone of excessive courtesy, + +"Sweet sir, I fear you have forgotten me, that you should give me the +go-by thus, when it is so long a time since we have met, and we such +dear friends, too," + +But the young man was in earnest, and very angry, and struggled to +release himself from St. Renan's grasp, until, having no strong +reasons for forbearance, but many for the reverse, Raoul, too, lost +his temper. + +"By heaven!" he exclaimed, "I believe that you do _not_ know me, or +you would not dare to suppose that I would suffer you to follow a lady +who seeks not your presence or society." + +"Let me go, St. Renan!" returned the other fiercely, laying his hand +on his dagger's hilt. "Let me go, villain, or you shall rue it!" + +"Villain!" Raoul repeated, calmly, "villain! It is so you call me, +hey?" and he did instantly release him, drawing his sword as he did +so. "Draw, De Pontrien--that word has cost you your life!" + +"Yes, villain!" repeated the other, "villain to you teeth! But you +lie! it is your life that is forfeit--forfeit to my brother's honor!" + +"Ha! ha!" laughed Raoul, savagely. "Ha-ha-ha-ha! your brother's honor! +who the devil ever heard before of a pandar's honor--even if he were +Sir Pandarus to a king? Sa! sa!--have at you!" + +Their blades crossed instantly, and they fought fiercely, and with +something like equality for some ten minutes. The Chevalier de +Pontrien was far more than an ordinary swordsman, and he was in +earnest, not angry, but savage and determined, and full of bitter +hatred, and a fixed resolution to punish the familiarity of Raoul with +his brother's wife. But that was a thing easier proposed than +executed; for St. Renan, who had left France as a boy already a +perfect master of fence, had learned the practice of the blade against +the swordsmen of the East, the finest swordsmen of the world, and had +added to skill, science and experience, the iron nerves, the deep +breath, and the unwearied strength of a veteran. + +If he fought slowly, it was that he fought carefully--that he meant +the first wound to be the last. He was resolved that De Pontrien never +should return home again to divulge what he had seen, and he had the +coolness, the skill, and the power to carry out his resolution. + +At the end of ten minutes he attacked. Six times within as many +seconds he might have inflicted a severe, perhaps a deadly wound on +his antagonist; and he, too, perceived it, but it would not have been +surely mortal. + +"Come, come!" cried De Pontrien, at last, growing impatient and angry +at the idea of being played with. "Come, sir, you are my master, it +seems. Make an end of this." + +"Do not be in a hurry," replied St. Renan, with a deadly smile, "it +will come soon enough. There! will that suit you?" + +And with the word he made a treble feint and lounged home. So true was +the thrust that the point pierced the very cavity of his heart. So +strongly was it sent home that the hilt smote heavily on his +breast-bone. He did not speak or groan, but drew one short, broken +sigh, and fell dead on the instant. + +"The fool!" muttered St. Renan. "Wherefore did he meddle where he had +no business? But what the devil shall I do with him? He must not be +found, or all will out--and that were ruin." + +As he spoke, a distant clap of thunder was heard to the eastward, and +a few heavy drops of rain began to fall, while a heavy mass of black +thunder-clouds began to rise rapidly against the wind. + +"There will be a fierce storm in ten minutes, which will soon wash out +all this evidence," he said, looking down at the trampled and +blood-stained greensward. "One hour hence, and there will not be a +sign of this, if I can but dispose of him. Ha!" he added, as a quick +thought struck him, "The Devil's Drinking-Cup! Enough! it is done!" + +Within a minute's space he had swathed the corpse tightly in the +cloak, which had fallen from the wretched man's shoulders as the fray +began, bound it about the waist by the scarf, to which he attached +firmly an immense block of stone, which lay at the brink of the +fearful well, which was now--for the tide was up--brimful of white +boiling surf, and holding his breath atween resolution and abhorrence, +hurled it into the abyss. + +It sunk instantly, so well was the stone secured to it; and the fate +of the Chevalier de Pontrien never was suspected, for that fatal pool +never gave up its dead, nor will until the judgment-day. + +Meantime the flood-gates of heaven were opened, and a mimic torrent, +rushing down the dark glen, soon obliterated every trace of that +stern, short affray. + +Calmly Raoul strode homeward, and untouched by any conscience, for +those were hard and ruthless times, and he had undergone so much wrong +at the hands of his victim's nearest relatives, and dearest friends, +that it was no great marvel if his blood were heated, and his heart +pitiless. + +"I will have masses said for his soul in Paris," he muttered to +himself; and therewith, thinking that he had more than discharged all +a Christian's duty, he dismissed all further thoughts of the matter, +and actually hummed a gay opera tune as he strode homeward through the +pelting storm, thinking how soon he should be blessed by the +possession of his own Melanie. + +No observation was made on his absence, either by the steward or any +of the servants, on his return, though he was well-nigh drenched with +rain, for they remembered his old half-boyish, half-romantic habits, +and it seemed natural to them that on his first return, after so many +years of wandering, to scenes endeared to him by innumerable fond +recollections, he should wander forth alone to muse with his own soul +in secret. + +There was great joy, however, in the hearts of the old servitors and +tenants in consequence of his return, and on the following morning, +and still on the third day, that feeling of joy and security continued +to increase, for it soon got abroad that the young lord's grief and +gloominess of mood was wearing hourly away, and that his lip, and his +whole countenance were often lighted up with an expression which +showed, as they fondly augured, that days and years of happiness were +yet in store for him. + +It was not long before the tidings reached him that the house of +D'Argenson was in great distress concerning the sudden and +unaccountable disappearance of the Chevalier de Pontrien, who had +walked out, it was said, on the preceding afternoon, promising to be +back at supper-time, and who had not been heard of since. + +Raoul smiled grimly at the intimation, but said nothing, and the +narrator judging that St. Renan was not likely to take offence at the +imputations against the family of Ploermel, proceeded to inform him, +that in the opinion of the neighborhood there was nothing very +mysterious, after all, in the disappearance of the chevalier, since he +was known to be very heavily in debt, and was threatened with deadly +feud by the old Sieur de Plouzurde, whose fair daughter he had +deceived to her undoing. Robinet, the smuggler's boat, had been seen +off the Penmarcks when the moon was setting, and no one doubted that +the gay gallant was by this time off the coast of Spain. + +To all this, though he affected to pay little heed to it, Raoul +inclined an eager and attentive ear, and as a reward for his patient +listening, was soon informed, furthermore, that the bridegroom marquis +and the beautiful bride, being satisfied, it was supposed, of the +chevalier's safety, had departed for Paris, their journey having been +postponed only in consequence of the research for the missing +gentleman, from the morning when it should have taken place, to the +afternoon of the same day. + +For two days longer did Raoul tarry at St. Renan, apparently as free +from concern or care about the fair Melanie de Ploermel, as if he had +never heard her name. And on this point alone, for all men knew that +he once loved her, did his conduct excite any observation, or call +forth comment. His silence, however, and external nonchalance were +attributed at all hands to a proper sense of pride and self-respect; +and as the territorial vassals of those days held themselves in some +degree ennobled or disgraced by the high bearing or recreancy of their +lords, it was very soon determined by the men of St. Renan that it +would have been very disgraceful and humiliating had their lord, the +Lord of Douarnez and St. Renan, condescended to trouble his head about +the little demoiselle d'Argenson. + +Meanwhile our lover, whose head was in truth occupied about no other +thing than that very same little demoiselle, for whom he was believed +to feel a contempt so supreme, had thoroughly investigated all his +affairs, thereby acquiring from his old steward the character of an +admirable man of business, had made himself perfectly master of the +real value of his estates, droits, dues and all connected with the +same, and had packed up all his papers, and such of his valuables as +were movable, so as to be transported easily by means of pack-horses. + +This done, leaving orders for a retinue of some twenty of his best and +most trusty servants to follow him as soon as the train and relays of +horses could be prepared, he set off with two followers only to +return, riding post, as he had come, from Paris. + +He was three days behind the lady of his love at starting; but the +journey from the western extremity of Bretagne to the metropolis is at +all times a long and tedious undertaking; and as the roads and means +of conveyance were in those days, he found it no difficult task to +catch up with the carriages of the marquis, and to pass them on the +road long enough before they reached Paris. + +Indeed, though he had set out three days behind them, he succeeded in +anticipating their arrival by as many, and had succeeded in +transacting more than half the business on which his heart was bent, +before he received the promised visit from the pretty Rose Faverney, +who, prompted by her desire to renew her intimacy with the handsome +page, came punctual to her appointment. He had not, of course, +admitted the good old churchman, his uncle, into all his secrets; he +had not even told him that he had seen the lady, much less what were +his hopes and views concerning her. + +But he did tell him that he was so deeply mortified and wounded by her +desertion, that he had determined to sell his estates, to leave France +forever, and to betake himself to the new American colonies on the St. +Lawrence. + +There was not in the state of France in those days much to admire, or +much to induce wise men to exert their influence over the young and +noble, to induce them to linger in the neighborhood of a court which +was in itself a very sink of corruption. It was with no great +difficulty, therefore, that Raoul obtained the concurrence of his +uncle, who was naturally a friend to gallant and adventurous daring. +The estates of St. Renan, the old castle and the home park, with a few +hundred acres in its immediate vicinity only excepted, were converted +into gold with almost unexampled rapidity. + +A part of the gold was in its turn converted into a gallant brigantine +of some two hundred tons, which was despatched at once along the coast +of Douarnez bay, there to take in a crew of the hardy fishermen and +smugglers of that stormy shore, all men well-known to Raoul de St. +Renan, and well content to follow their young lord to the world's +end, should such be his will. + +Here, indeed, I have anticipated something the progress of events, for +hurry it as much as he could in those days, St. Renan could not, of +course, work miracles; and though the brigantine was purchased, where +she lay ready to sail, at Calais, the instant the sale of St. Renan +was determined, without awaiting the completion of the transfer, or +the payment of the purchase-money, many days had elapsed before the +news could be sent from the capital to the coast, and the vessel +despatched to Britanny. + +Every thing was, however, determined; nay, every thing was in process +of accomplishment before the arrival of the fair lady and her nominal +husband, so that at his first interview with Rose, Raoul was enabled +to lay all his plans before her, and to promise that within a month at +the furthest, every thing would be ready for their certain and safe +evasion. + +He did not fail, however, on that account to impress upon the pretty +maiden, who, as Jules was to accompany his lord, though not a hint of +whither had been breathed to any one, was doubly devoted to the +success of the scheme, that a method must be arranged by which he +could have daily interviews with the lovely Melanie; and this she +promised that she would use all her powers to induce her mistress to +permit, saying, with a gay laugh, that her permission gained, all the +rest was easy. + +The next day, the better to avoid suspicion, Raoul was presented to +the king, in full court, by his uncle, on the double event of his +return from India, and of his approaching departure for the colony of +Acadie, for which it was his present purpose to sue for his majesty's +consent and approbation. + +The king was in great good humor, and nothing could have been more +flattering or more gracious than Raoul de St. Renan's reception. Louis +had heard that very morning of the fair Melanie's arrival in the city, +and nothing could have fallen out more _apropos_ than the intention of +her quondam lover to depart at this very juncture, and that, too, for +an indefinite period from the land of his birth. + +Rejoicing inwardly at his good fortune, and of course, ascribing the +conduct of the young man to pique and disappointment, the king, while +he loaded him with honors and attentions, did not neglect to encourage +him in his intention of departing on a very early day, and even +offered to facilitate his departure by making some remissions in his +behalf from the strict regulations of the Douane. + +All this was perfectly comprehensible to Raoul; but he was far too +wise to suffer any one, even his uncle, to perceive that he understood +it; and while he profited to the utmost by the readiness which he +found in high places to smooth away all the difficulties from his +path, he laughed in his sleeve as he thought what would be the fury of +the licentious and despotic sovereign when he should discover that the +very steps which he had taken to remove a dangerous rival, had +actually cast the lady into that rival's arms. + +Nor had this measure of Raoul's been less effectual in sparing Melanie +much grief and vexation, than it had proved in facilitating his own +schemes of escape; for on that very day, within an hour after his +reception of St. Renan, the king caused information to be conveyed to +the Marquis de Ploermel that the presentation of Madame should be +deferred until such time as the Vicomte de St. Renan should have set +sail for Acadie, which it was expected would take place within a month +at the furthest. + +That evening, when Rose Faverney was admitted to the young lord's +presence, through the agency of the enamored Jules, she brought him +permission to visit her lady at midnight in her own chamber; and she +brought with her a plan, sketched by Melanie's own hand, of the +garden, through which, by the aid of a master-key and a rope-ladder, +he was to gain access to her presence. + +"My lady says, Monsieur Raoul," added the merry girl, with a light +laugh, "that she admits you only on the faith that you will keep the +word which you plighted to her, when last you met, and on the +condition that I shall be present at all your interviews with her." + +"Her honor were safe in my hands," replied the young man, "without +that precaution. But I appreciate the motive, and accept the +condition." + +"You will remember, then, my lord--at midnight. There will be one +light burning in the window, when that is extinguished, all will be +safe, and you may enter fearless. Will you remember?" + +"Nothing but death shall prevent me. Nor that, if the spirits of the +dead may visit what they love best on earth. So tell her, Rose. +Farewell!" + +Four hours afterward St. Renan stood in the shadow of a dense trellice +in the garden, watching the moment when that love-beacon should +expire. The clock of St. Germain l'Auxerre struck twelve, and at the +instant all was darkness. Another minute and the lofty wall was +scaled, and Melanie was in the arms of Raoul. + +It was a strange, grim, gloomy gothic chamber, full of strange niches +and recesses of old stone-work. The walls were hung with gilded +tapestries of Spanish leather, but were interrupted in many places by +the antique stone groinings of alcoves and cup-boards, one of which, +close beside the mantlepiece, was closed by a curiously carved door of +heavy oak-work, itself sunk above a foot within the embrasure of the +wall. + +Lighted as it was only by the flickering of the wood-fire on the +hearth, for the thickness of the walls, and the damp of the old +vaulted room rendered a fire acceptable even at midsummer, that +antique chamber appeared doubly grim and ghostly; but little cared the +young lovers for its dismal seeming; and if they noticed it at all, it +was but to jest at the contrast of its appearance with the happy hours +which they passed within it. + +Happy, indeed, they were--almost too happy--though as pure and +guiltless as if they had been hours spent within a nunnery of the +strictest rule, and in the presence of a sainted abbess. + +Happy, indeed, they were; and although brief, oft repeated. For, +thenceforth, not a night passed but Raoul visited his Melanie, and +tarried there enjoying her sweet converse, and bearing to her every +day glad tidings of the process of his schemes, and of the certainty +of their escape, until the approach of morning warned him to make good +his retreat ere envious eyes should be abroad to make espials. + +And ever the page, Jules, kept watch at the ladder-foot in the garden; +and the true maiden, Rose, who ever sate within the chamber with the +lovers during their stolen interviews, guarded the door, with ears as +keen as those of Cerberus. + +A month had passed, and the last night had come, and all was +successful--all was ready. The brigantine lay manned and armed, and at +all points prepared for her brief voyage at an instant's notice at +Calais. Relays of horses were at each post on the road. Raoul had +taken formal leave of the delighted monarch. His passport was +signed--his treasures were on board his good ship--his pistols were +loaded--his horses were harnessed for the journey. + +For the last time he scaled the ladder--for the last time he stood +within the chamber. + +Too happy! ay, they were too happy on that night, for all was done, +all was won; and nothing but the last step remained, and that step so +easy. The next morning Melanie was to go forth, as if to early mass, +with Rose and a single valet. The valet was to be mastered and +overthrown as if in a street broil, the lady, with her damsel, was to +step into a light caleshe, which should await her, with her lover +mounted at its side, and high for Calais--England--without the +risk--the possibility of failure. + +That night he would not tarry. He told his happy tidings, clasped her +to his heart, bid her farewell till to-morrow, and in another moment +would have been safe--a step sounded close to the door. Rose sprang to +her feet, with her finger to her lip, pointing with her left hand to +the deep cupboard-door. + +She was right--there was not time to reach the window--at the same +instant, as Melanie relighted the lamp, not to be taken in mysterious +and suspicious darkness, the one door closed upon the lover just as +the other opened to the husband. + +But rapid and light as were the motions of Raoul, the treacherous door +by which he had passed into his concealment, trembled still as +Ploermel entered. And Rose's quick eye saw that he marked it. + +But if he saw it, he gave no token, made no allusion to the least +doubt or suspicion; on the contrary, he spoke more gayly and kindly +than his wont. He apologized for his untimely intrusion, saying that +her father had come suddenly to speak with them, concerning her +presentation at court, which the king had appointed for the next day, +and wished, late as it was, to see her in the saloon below. + +Nothing doubting the truth of his statement, which Raoul's intended +departure rendered probable, Melanie started from her chair, and +telling Rose to wait, for she would back in an instant, hurried out of +the room, and took her way toward the great staircase. + +The marquis ordered Rose to light her mistress, for the corridor was +dark; and as the girl went out to do so, a suppressed shriek, and the +faint sounds of a momentary scuffle followed, and then all was still. + +A hideous smile flitted across the face of de Ploermel, as he cast +himself heavily into an arm-chair, opposite to the door of the +cupboard in which St. Renan was concealed, and taking up a silver bell +which stood on the table, rung it repeatedly and loudly for a servant. + +"Bring wine," he said, as the man entered. "And, hark you, the masons +are at work in the great hall, and have left their tools and materials +for building. Let half a dozen of the grooms come up hither, and bring +with them brick and mortar. I hate the sight of that cupboard, and +before I sleep this night, it shall be built up solid with a good wall +of mason-work; and so here's a health to the rats within it, and a +long life to them!" and he quaffed off the wine in fiendish triumph. + +He spoke so loud, and that intentionally, that Raoul heard every word +that he uttered. + +But if he hoped thereby to terrify the lover into discovering himself, +and so convicting his fair and innocent wife, the villain was +deceived. Raoul heard every word--knew his fate--knew that one word, +one motion would have saved him; but that one word, one motion would +have destroyed the fair fame of his Melanie. + +The memory of the death of that unhappy Lord of Kerguelen came +palpably upon his mind in that dread moment, and the comments of his +dead father. + +"I, at least," he muttered, between his hard set teeth, "I at least, +will not be evidence against her. I will die silent--_fiel a la +muerte_!" + +And when the brick and mortar were piled by the hands of the +unconscious grooms, and when the fatal trowels clanged and jarred +around him, he spake not--stirred not--gave no sign. + +Even the savage wretch, de Ploermel, unable to believe in the +existence of such chivalry, such honor, half doubted if he were not +deceived, and the cupboard were not untenanted by the true victim. + +Higher and higher rose the wall before the oaken door; and by the +exclusion of the light of the many torches by which the men were +working, the victim must have marked, inch by inch, the progress of +his living immersement. The page, Jules, had climbed in silence to the +window's ledge, and was looking in, an unseen spectator, for he had +heard all that passed from without, and suspected his lord's presence +in the fatal precinct. + +But as he saw the wall rise higher--higher--as he saw the last brick +fastened in its place solid, immovable from within, and that without +strife or opposition, he doubted not but that there was some concealed +exit by which St. Renan had escaped, and he descended hastily and +hurried homeward. + +Now came the lady's trial--the trial that shall prove to de Ploermel +whether his vengeance was complete. She was led in with Rose, a +prisoner. _Lettres de cachet_ had been obtained, when the treason of +some wretched subordinate had revealed the secret of her intended +flight with Raoul; and the officers had seized the wife by the +connivance of the shameless husband. + +"See!" he said, as she entered, "see, the fool suffered himself to be +walled up there in silence. There let him die in agony. You, madam, +may live as long as you please in the Bastille, _au secret_." + +She saw that all was lost--her lover's sacrifice was made--she could +not save him! Should she, by a weak divulging of the truth, render his +grand devotion fruitless? Never! + +Her pale cheek did not turn one shade the paler, but her keen eye +flashed living fire, and her beautiful lip writhed with loathing and +scorn irrepressible. + +"It is thou who art the fool!" she said, "who hast made all this coil, +to wall up a poor cat in a cupboard, as it is thou who art the base +knave and shameless pandar, who hast attempted to do murther, and all +to sell thine own wife to a corrupt and loathsome tyrant!" + +All stood aghast at her fierce words, uttered with all the eloquence +and vehemence of real passion, but none so much as Rose, who had never +beheld her other than the gentlest of the gentle. Now she wore the +expression, and spoke with the tone of a young Pythoness, full of the +fury of the god. + +She sprung forward as she uttered the last words, extricating herself +from the slight hold of the astonished officers, and rushed toward her +cowed and craven husband. + +"But in all things, mean wretch," she continued, in tones of fiery +scorn, "in all things thou art frustrate--thy vengeance is naught, thy +vile ambition naught, thyself and thy king, fools, knaves, and +frustrate equally. And now," she added, snatching the dagger which +Raoul had given her from the scabbard, "now die, infamous, accursed +pandar!" and with the word she buried the keen weapon at one quick +and steady stroke to the very hilt in his base and brutal heart. + +Then, ere the corpse had fallen to the earth, or one hand of all those +that were stretched out to seize her had touched her person, she smote +herself mortally with the same reeking weapon, and only crying out in +a clear, high voice, "Bear witness, Rose, bear witness to my honor! +Bear witness all that I die spotless!" fell down beside the body of +her husband, and expired without a struggle or a groan. + +Awfully was she tried, and awfully she died. Rest to her soul if it be +possible. + +The caitiff Marquis de Ploermel perished, as she had said, in all +things frustrated; for though his vengeance was in very deed complete, +he believed that it had failed, and in his very agony that failure was +his latest and his worst regret. + +On the morrow, when St. Renan returned not to his home, the page gave +the alarm, and the fatal wall was torn down, but too late. + +The gallant victim of love's honor was no more. Doomed to a lingering +death he had died speedily, though by no act of his own. A +blood-vessel had burst within, through the violence of his own +emotions. Ignorant of the fate of his sweet Melanie, he had died, as +he had lived, the very soul of honor; and when they buried him, in the +old chapel of his Breton castle, beside his famous ancestors, none +nobler lay around him; and the brief epitaph they carved upon his +stone was true, at least, if it were short and simple, for it ran only +thus-- + + =Raoul de St. Renan. + + Fiel a la Muerte.= + + + + +THE POET'S HEART.--TO MISS O. B. + +BY CHARLES E. TRAIL. + + + Like rays of light, divinely bright, + Thy sunny smiles o'er all disperse; + And let the music of thy voice, + More softly flow than Lesbian verse. + By all the witchery of love, + By every fascinating art-- + The worldly spirit strive to move, + But spare, O spare, the Poet's heart! + + Within its pure recesses, deep, + A fount of tender feeling lies; + Whose crystal waters, while they sleep, + Reflect the light of starry skies. + Thy voice might prophet-like unclose + Its bonds, and bid those waters start, + But why disturb their sweet repose? + Spare, lady, spare the Poet's heart! + + It cannot be that one so fair, + The idol of the courtly throng-- + Would condescend his lot to share, + And bless the lowly child of song, + Would realize the soul-wrought dreams, + That of his being form a part, + And mingle with his sweetest themes; + Then spare, O spare, the poet's heart! + + The poet's heart! ye know it not, + Its hopes, its sympathies, its fears; + The joys that glad its humble lot; + The griefs that melt it into tears. + 'Tis like some flower, that from the ground + Scarce dares to lift its petals up, + Though honeyed sweets are ever found + Indwelling in its golden cup. + + Love comes to him in sweeter guise, + Than he appears to other men-- + Heav'n-born, descended from the skies, + And longing to return again. + But bid him not with me abide, + If he can no relief impart; + Ah, hide those smiles, those glances hide, + And spare, O spare, the Poet's heart! + + + + +THE RETURN TO SCENES OF CHILDHOOD. + +BY GRETTA. + + + "You have come again," said the dark old trees, + As I entered my childhood's home. + "You have come again," said the whispering breeze, + "And wherefore have you come? + + "When last I played round your youthful brow + Its morning's light was there, + But you bring back a shadow upon it now, + And a saddened look of care. + + "Have you come, have you left earth's noisy strife, + To seek your favorite flowers? + They are gone, like the hopes which lit your life, + Like your childhood's sunny hours. + + "Have you come to seek for your shady dell, + For that spot in the moonlit grove, + Where first you were bound by the magic spell, + And thrilled to the voice of love? + + "Has your heart been true to that early vow, + And pure as that trickling tear? + Does that voice of music charm you now + As once it charmed you here? + + "Years have been short, and few, since last + As a child you roamed the glen; + But what have you learned since hence you passed, + What have you lost since then? + + "You have brought back a woman's ruddier cheek, + A woman's fuller form, + But where is the look so timid and meek, + The blush so quick and warm? + + "Have you come to seek for the smiles of yore, + For your brief life's faded light? + Do you hope to hear in these shades once more + The blessing and 'good-night?' + + "Do you come again for the kisses sweet, + Do you look as you onward pass + For the mingled prints of the tiny feet + In the fresh and springing grass? + + "Have you come to sit on a parent's knee + And gaze on his reverend brow? + Or to nestle in love and childish glee + On her bosom, that's pulseless now? + + "Why come you back? We can give you naught, + No more the past is ours, + Thine early scenes with their blessings fraught, + Thy childhood's golden hours." + + I have come, I have come, oh haunts of youth, + With a worn and weary heart; + I have come to recall the love and truth + Of my young life's guileless part. + + I have come to bend o'er the holy spot + Where I prayed by a father's knee-- + Oh I am changed--but I ne'er forgot + His look, his smile for me. + + I have not been true to my heart's first love + Here pledged 'neath the moonlit heaven, + But I come to kneel in the lonely grove + And ask to be forgiven. + + I have not brought back the hopes of youth, + Or the gentle look so meek, + I mourn o'er my perished faith and truth + And the quick blush of my cheek. + + But, oh ye scenes, that have once beguiled, + In the peaceful days of yore. + I would come again like a little child + With the trust I knew before. + + I would call back every hope and fear, + The heart throbs full and high, + The prattling child that rambled here, + And ask if it were _I_? + + And I would recall the murmured prayer, + And the dark eyes look of love, + While unseen angels hovered there + From the starry worlds above. + + And I've come to seek one flower here, + Just one, in its fading bloom, + Though it must be culled with a gushing tear + From a parent's grassy tomb. + + And I'll bear it away on my lonely breast, + As a charm 'mid earth's stormy strife, + An amulet, worn to give me rest, + On the billowy waves of life. + + I wait not now by the dancing rill + For the steps of my playmates fair-- + They are gone--but yon heaven is o'er me still, + And I'll seek to meet them there. + + Parents, and friends, and hopes are gone, + And these memories only given, + But they shall be links, while the heart is lone, + In the "chain" that reaches heaven. + + + + +SUNSHINE AND RAIN. + +BY GEORGE S. BURLEIGH. + + + O Blessed sunshine, and thrice-blessed rain, + How ye do warm and melt the rugged soil,-- + Which else were barren, nathless all my toil + And summon Beauty from her grave again, + To breathe live odors o'er my scant domain: + How softly from their parting buds uncoil + The furled sweets, no more a shriveled spoil + To the loud storm, or canker's silent bane; + Were it all sun, the heat would shrink them up; + Were it all shower, then piteous blight were sure; + Now hangs the dew in every nodding cup, + Shooting new glories from its orblets pure. + Sunshine and shower, I shrink from your extremes, + But with delight behold your blended gleams. + + + + +THE CHRISTMAS GARLAND. + +BY MISS EMMA WOOD. + +CHAPTER I. + +THE BOARDING-SCHOOL. + + +Christmas is coming! The glad sound awakes a thrill of joy in many a +heart. The children clap their tiny hands and laugh aloud in the +exuberance of their mirth as bright visions of varied toys and rich +confectionary flit before their minds. The sound of merry sports--the +gathering of the social band--the banquet--all are scenes of joy. +Shout on bright children, for your innocent mirth will rise as incense +to Him who was even as one of you. The Son of God once reposed his +head upon a mortal breast and wept the tears of infancy. Now risen to +His throne of glory, his smile is still upon you, bright Blossoms of +Blessedness. + +Christmas is coming! is the cry of the young and gay, and with light +hearts they prepare for the approaching festival. The holyday robes +are chosen, and the presents selected which shall bring joy to so many +hearts. The lover studies to determine what gift will be acceptable to +his mistress, and the maiden dreams of love-tokens and honeyed words. +Nor is the church forgotten amid the gathering of holyday array, for +that, too, must be robed in beauty. The young claim its adornment as +their appropriate sphere, and rich garlands of evergreen, mingled with +scarlet berries, are twined around its pillars, or festooned along its +walls. Swiftly speeds their welcome task, and a calm delight fills +their hearts, as they remember Him who assumed mortality, and passed +the ordeal of earthly life, that he might be, in all things, like unto +mankind. Blessed be this thought, ye joyous ones, and if after-years +shall bring sorrow or bitterness, ye may remember that the Holiest has +trod that path before, and that deeper sorrow than mortality can +suffer, once rested upon his guiltless head. + +Christmas is coming! is the thought of the aged, and memory goes back +to the joys of other years, when the pulses of life beat full and +free, and their keen sensibilities were awake to the perception of the +beautiful. Now the dim eye can no longer enjoy the full realization of +beauty, and the ear is deaf to the melodies of Nature, but they can +drink from the fountain of memory, and while looking upon the mirth of +the youthful, recollect that once they, too, were light-hearted and +joyous. Blessed to them is the approaching festival, and as they +celebrate the birth of the Redeemer, they may remember that He bore +the trials of life without a murmur, and laid down in the lone grave, +to ensure the resurrection of the believer, while faith points to the +hour when they shall inherit the glory prepared for them by His +mission of suffering. + +Christmas is coming! shouted we, the school-girls of Monteparaiso +Seminary, as we rushed from the school-room, in glad anticipation, of +the holydays. How gladly we laid down the books over which we had been +poring, vainly endeavoring to fix our minds upon their pages, and +gathered in various groups to plan amusements for the coming festival. +One week only, and the day would come, the pleasures of which we had +been anticipating for months. Our stockings must be hung up on +Christmas Eve, though the pleasure was sadly marred because each of us +must, in our turn, represent the good Santa-Claus, and contribute to +the stockings of our schoolmates, instead of going quietly to bed, and +finding them filled on Christmas morning by the good saint, or some of +his representatives. How eagerly we watched the Hudson each morning, +to see if its waves remained unfettered by ice, not only because the +daily arrival of the steamboat from New York was an era in our +un-eventful lives, but there were many of our number whose parents or +friends resided in the city, from whom they expected visits or +presents. We were like a prisoned sisterhood, yet we did not pine in +our solitude, for there were always wild, mirth-loving spirits in our +midst, so full of fun and frolic that the exuberance of their spirits +was continually breaking out, much to the discomfort of tutors and +governesses. When the holydays were approaching, and the strict +discipline usually maintained among the pupils was somewhat relaxed, +these outbreaks became more numerous, insomuch that lessons were +carelessly omitted, or left unlearned. When study hours were over +misrule was triumphant. Lizzie Lincoln could not find a seat at the +table where some of the older girls were manufacturing fancy articles +for Christmas presents, and avenged herself by pinning together the +dresses of the girls who were seated around the table, and afterward +fastening each dress to the carpet. Fan Selby saw the manoeuvre, and +ran to her room, where she equipped herself in a frightful looking +mask, which she had manufactured of brown paper, painted in horrid +devices. Arrayed in this mask, and a long white wrapper, she came +stalking in at the door of the sitting-room. In their fright the girls +screamed and tried to rush from the table, when a scene of confusion +ensued which beggars description. The noise reached the ears of the +teachers, who came from different parts of the house to the scene of +the riot, but ere they reached it, Fan had deposited the mask out of +sight in her own room, and was again in her place, looking as innocent +as if nothing had happened. She even aided the teachers in their +search for the missing "fright." When this fruitless search was ended, +and a monitress placed in the sitting-room to prevent further riots, +a new alarm was raised. Mary Lee blackened her face with burnt cork, +and entered the kitchen by the outside door, begging for cold +victuals, much to the terror of the raw Hibernians who were very +quietly sitting before the fire, and telling tales of the Emerald +Isle, for they feared a negro as they would some wild beast. They ran +up stairs to give the alarm, but when they returned the bird had +flown, and while a fruitless search was instituted throughout the +basement, Mary was in her own room, hastily removing the ebon tinge +from her face. Such were a few among the many wild pranks of the +mischief spirits, invented to while away the time. Quite different +from this was the employment of the "sisterhood." A number of the +older pupils of the school had seated themselves night after night +around the table which stood in the centre of the sitting-room, in +nearly the same places, with their needle-work, until it was finally +suggested, that, after the manner of the older people, we should form +a regularly organized society. Each member should every night take her +accustomed place, and one should read while the others were busy with +their needle-work. To add a tinge of romance to the whole, we gave to +each of our members the name of some flower as a soubriquet by which +we might be known, and Lizzie Lincoln (our secretary) kept a humorous +diary of the "Sayings and Doings of Flora's Sisterhood." Anna Lincoln +was the presidentess of our society, and we gave her the name of Rose, +because the queen of flowers seemed a fitting type of her majestic +beauty. But the favorite of all was Clara Adams, to whom the name of +Violet seemed equally appropriate. Her modesty, gentleness, and +affectionate disposition had won the love of all, from Annie Lincoln, +the oldest pupil, down to little Ella Selby, who lisped her praises of +dear Clara Adams, and seemed to love her far better than she did her +own mad-cap sister. + +When we celebrated May-day Clara was chosen queen of May, though +Lizzie Lincoln was more beautiful, and Anna seemed more queenly. It +was the instinctive homage that young hearts will pay to goodness and +purity, which made us feel as if she deserved the brightest crown we +could bestow. If one of us were ill, Clara could arrange the pillows +or bathe the throbbing temples more tenderly than any other, and +bitter medicines seemed less disgusting when administered by her. Was +there a hard lesson to learn, a difficult problem to solve, a +rebellious drawing that would take any form or shadowing but the right +one, Clara was the kind assistant, and either task seemed equally easy +to her. While we sat around the table that evening, little Ella Selby +was leaning on the back of Clara's chair, and telling, in her own +childish way, of the manifold perfections of one Philip Sidney, a +classmate of her brother in college, who had spent a vacation with him +at her home. Ella was quite sure that no other gentleman was half so +handsome, so good, or kind as Mr. Sidney, and she added, + +"I know he loves Clara, for I have told him a great deal about her, +and he says that he does." + +The girls all laughed at her simple earnestness, and bright blushes +rose in Clara's face. Many prophecies for the future were based on +this slight foundation, and Clara was raised to the rank of a heroine. +It needs but slight fuel to feed the flame of romance in a +school-girl's breast, and these dreamings might long have been +indulged but for an interruption. A servant came, bringing a basket, +with a note from the ladies engaged in decorating the church, +requesting the young ladies of the school to prepare the letters for a +motto on the walls of the church. The letters were cut from +pasteboard, to be covered with small sprigs of box. Pleased with the +novelty of our task we were soon busily engaged, under the direction +of Clara and Anna Lincoln. Even the "mischief spirits" ceased their +revels to watch our progress. Thus passed that evening, and as the +next day was Saturday, and of course a holyday, we completed our work. +The garlands were not to be hung in the church until the Wednesday +following, as Friday was Christmas day. We employed ourselves after +study hours the intervening days in finishing the presents we had +commenced for each other. On Wednesday morning Lucy Gray, one of our +day-scholars, brought a note from her mother, requesting that she +might be excused from her afternoon lessons, and inviting the teachers +and young ladies of the school to join them in dressing the church. +Here was a prospect for us of some rare enjoyment; and how we plead +for permission, and promised diligence and good behaviour for the +future, those who remember their own school-days can easily imagine. +At length permission was granted that Anna and Lizzie Lincoln, Fan +Selby, Clara Adams, and I, accompanied by one of the teachers, might +assist them for an hour or two in the afternoon. Never did hours seem +longer to us than those that passed after the permission was given +till we were on our way. The village was about half a mile from our +seminary, but the walk was a very pleasant one, and when we reached +the church our faces glowed with exercise in the keen December air. We +found a very agreeable company assembled there, laughing and chatting +gayly as they bound the branches of evergreen together in rich +wreaths. Our letters were fastened to the walls, forming a beautiful +inscription, and little remained to be done, save arranging the +garlands. Clara and Fan Selby finished the wreaths for the altar, and +were fastening them in their places, when a new arrival caused Fan to +drop her wreath, and hasten toward the new-comers, exclaiming, + +"Brother Charles, I am so glad to see you!" + +Then, after cordially greeting his companion, she asked eagerly of her +brother, + +"Have you come to take us home?" + +"No, mad-cap," was the laughing reply, "we are but too glad to be free +for one Christmas from your wild pranks. Sidney is spending the +Christmas holydays with me, and as the day was fine we thought we +would visit you. When we reached the village we learned that several +of the young ladies of the school were at the church, and called, +thinking that you might be of the number." + +Turning to Sidney, Fan said, playfully, + +"Follow me, and I will introduce you to Ella's favorite, Clara Adams." + +Before Clara had time to recover from her confusion caused by their +entrance Fan had led Philip Sidney to her, and introduced him as the +friend of whom little Ella had told her so much. The eloquent blushes +in Clara's face revealed in part the dreams that had been excited in +her breast, while Philip, with self-possessed gallantry, begged leave +to assist her in her task, and uttered some commonplace expressions, +till Clara was sufficiently composed to take her part in conversation. +The teacher who accompanied us, alarmed at his attention, placed +herself near them, but his manner was so respectful that she could +find no excuse to interrupt their conversation. Philip Sidney was +eminently handsome, and as his dark eye rested admiringly upon her, +who will wonder that Clara became more than usually animated! nor is +it strange that the low, musical tones of his voice, breathing +thoughts of poetry with the earnestness of love, should awaken a new +train of thought in the simple school-girl. She answered in few words, +but the drooping of her fringed lids and the bright color in her cheek +replied more eloquently than words. The moments flew swiftly, the +garlands were placed, and the teacher who had watched them with an +anxious eye, announced that it was time to return to the seminary. +Philip knew too well the strictness of boarding-school rules to hope +for a longer interview, yet even for the sake of looking longer on her +graceful figure, and perchance stealing another glance from her bright +eyes, he insisted upon seeing little Ella. Charles Selby objected, as +it was growing late, and he had an engagement for the evening in the +city. Reluctantly Philip bade Clara farewell, and from the door of the +church watched her receding figure until she disappeared around the +turn of the road. From that moment Clara was invested by her +schoolmates with all the dignity of a heroine of romance, and half the +giddy girls in school teazed her mercilessly, and then laid their +heads upon their pillows only to dream of lovers. + +Christmas eve came. The elder ladies of the school accompanied our +Principal to the church to listen to the services of the evening. We +were scarcely seated when we perceived nearly opposite to us, that +same Philip Sidney, who was the hero of our romance. Poor Clara! I sat +by her side, and fancied I could hear the throbbing of her heart as +those dark, expressive eyes were fixed again on hers, speaking the +language of admiration too plainly to be mistaken. Then as the +services proceeded, his countenance wore a shadow of deeper thought, +and his eyes were fixed upon the speaker. Thus he remained in earnest +attention till the services closed. When we left the church, a smile, +and bow of recognition passed between him and Clara, but no word was +spoken. Our sports that evening had no power to move her to mirth, but +she remained silent and abstracted. The next Saturday Mrs. Selby came +to see her daughter, and soon after her arrival, Fan laid a small +package on the table mysteriously, saying to Clara, "You must answer +it immediately," and left the room. Clara broke the seal, and as she +removed the envelope, a ring, containing a small diamond, beautifully +set, fell to the floor. I picked it up, and looking on the inside, saw +the name of Philip Sidney. As soon as she had read the note, she gave +it to me, and placed the ring upon her finger. Then severing a small +branch from a myrtle plant, which we kept in our room as a relic of +home, she placed it, with a sprig of box, in an envelope, and, after +directing it to Philip Sidney, gave it to Fan, who enclosed it in a +letter to her brother. The note which Clara gave me was as follows: + +"Forgive my presumption, dear Clara, in addressing you, so lately a +stranger. Think not that I am an idle flatterer, when I say that your +beauty and worth have awakened a deep love for you in my heart, and +this love must be my excuse. I would have sought another interview +with you, but I know the rules of your school would have forbid, and +the only alternative remaining is to make this avowal, or be forgotten +by you. I do not ask you now to promise to be mine, or even to love +me, till I have proved myself worthy of your affection. My past life +has been one of thoughtlessness and inaction, but it shall be my +endeavor in future to atone for those misspent years. Your image will +ever be with me as a bright spirit from whose presence I cannot flee, +and whisper hope when my energies would fail. I only ask your +remembrance till I am worthy to claim your love. If you do not see me +or hear from me at the end of five years, you may believe that I have +failed to secure the desired position in the world, or am no longer +living. Will you grant me this favor--to wear the ring enclosed, and +sometimes think of me? If so, send me some token by Mrs. S., to tell +me that I may hope." + +The evergreens, with their language of love and constancy were the +token, and the ring sparkled upon Clara's finger, so that I knew well +that Philip Sidney would not soon be forgotten. + + +CHAPTER II. + +A GLANCE AT HOME. + +The little village of Willowdale is situated in one of those romantic +dells which are found here and there among the hills of Massachusetts. +A small stream, tributary to the Connecticut, flows through the +village, so small that it is barely sufficient to furnish the +necessary mill-seats for the accommodation of a community of farmers, +but affording no encouragement to manufacturers. It is to this reason, +perhaps, that we may attribute the fact that a place, which was +amongst the earliest settlements of Massachusetts, should remain to +this day so thinly inhabited. The rage for manufactures, so prevalent +in New England, has led speculators to place factories on every stream +of sufficient power to keep them in operation, and a spirit of +enterprise and locomotion has caused railroads to pass through +sections of the country hitherto unfrequented by others than tillers +of the soil. Cities have sprung up where before were only small +villages, and brisk little villages are found, where a few years ago +were only solitary farm-houses. But in spite of all such changes, +Willowdale has escaped the ravages of these merciless innovators. The +glassy river still glides on in its natural bed, and even the willows +on its banks, from which the village takes its name, are suffered to +stand, unscathed by the woodman's axe. The "iron horse" has never +disturbed the inhabitants by his shrill voice, and the rattling of +cars has not broken upon the stillness of a summer-day. The village is +not on the direct route from any of the principal cities to others, +consequently the inhabitants suffer little apprehension of having +their fine farms cut up by rail-road tracks. The village consists of +one principal street, with houses built on both sides, at sufficient +distances from the street and each other, to admit of those neat +yards, with shade-trees, flowers, and white fences, which are the +pride of New England, and scattered among the surrounding fields are +tasteful farm-houses. + +There are two houses of worship in the place: the Episcopal church, +which was erected by the first settlers, before the revolution; and +the Congregationalist house, more recently built. There is but little +trade carried on in the place, and one store is sufficient to supply +the wants of the inhabitants. The Episcopal church stands on a slight +eminence, at a little distance from the main street of the village, +and a lane extending beyond it leads to the parsonage. A little +farther down this lane is my father's house, and nearly opposite the +house of Deacon Lee, the home of Clara Adams. Clara was left an orphan +at an early age. Her father was the son of an early friend of the old +rector. The latter, having no children, adopted Henry Adams, and +educated him as his own son, in the hope of preparing him for the +ministry, but with that perversity so common in human nature, the +youth determined to become an artist. The rector, not wishing to force +him unwillingly into the sacred office, consented that he should +pursue his favorite art. He placed him under the tuition of one of the +first painters in a neighboring city, hoping that his natural genius, +aided by his ambition, might enable him to excel. Henry Adams followed +his new pursuit with all the ardor of an impetuous nature, till the +bright eyes of Clara Lee won his heart, and his thoughts were directed +in a new channel, until he had persuaded her to share his lot. It +proved, indeed, a darkened lot to the young bride. Her husband was a +reckless, unsatisfied being, and though he ever loved her with all the +affection of which such natures are capable, the warm expressions of +his love, varied by fits of peevishness and ill-humor, were so unlike +the calm, unchanging devotedness of her nature that she felt a bitter +disappointment. Soon after the birth of their daughter his health +failed, and he repaired to Italy for the benefit of a more genial +climate, and in the hope of perfecting himself in his art. He lived +but a few months after his arrival there, and the sad intelligence +came like a death-blow to his bereaved wife. She lingered a year at +the parsonage, a saddened mourner, and then her wearied spirit found +its rest. The old rector would gladly have nurtured the little orphan +as his own child, but he could not resist the entreaties of Deacon +Lee, her mother's brother, and reluctantly consented to have her +removed to his house. Yet much of her time was spent at the parsonage, +and growing up as it were in an atmosphere of love, it is not strange +that gentleness was the ruling trait of her character. Deacon Lee was +one of that much-scandalized class, the Congregationalist deacons of +New England, who have so often been described with a pen dipped in +gall, if we may judge from the bitterness of the sketches. Scribblers +delight in portraying them as rum-selling hypocrites, sly topers, +lovers of gain, and fomenters of dissension, and so far has this been +carried, that no tale of Yankee cunning or petty fraud is complete +unless the hero is a deacon. It is true there are far too many such +instances in real life, where eminence in the church is their only +high standing, and the name of religion is but a cloak for selfish +vices, but it is equally true that among this class of men are the +good, the true, and kind, of the earth, whose lives are ruled by the +same pure principles which they profess. Such was Deacon Lee, and it +were well if there were more like him, to remove the stain which +others of an opposite character have brought upon the office. He was +one of those whom sorrow purifies, and had bowed in humble resignation +to heavy afflictions. Of a large family only one son had lived to +attain the years of manhood. The mother of Clara had been very dear to +him, and he felt that her orphan child would supply, in a measure, the +place of his own lost ones. His wife was his opposite, and theirs was +one of those unaccountable unions where there is apparently no bond of +sympathy. Stern and exact in the performance of every duty, she wished +to enforce the same rigid observance upon others. The loss of her +children had roused in her a zeal for religion, which, in one of a +warmer temperament, would have been fanaticism. While her husband was +a worshiper from a love of God and his holy laws, she was prompted by +fears of the wrath to come. He bowed in thankfulness, even while he +wept their loss, to the Power that had borne his little ones to a +brighter world, while her life gained new austerity from the thought +that they had been taken from her as a judgment on her worldliness and +idolatry. She loved to dwell upon the sufferings of the Pilgrim +Fathers of New England, and emulate their rigid lives, forgetting that +it was the dark persecution of the times in which they lived that left +this impress upon their characters. Her husband loved to commend the +good deeds of their neighbors, while she was equally fond of censuring +transgressors. Perhaps the result of their efforts was better than it +would have been had both possessed the disposition of either one of +them. Her firmness and energy atoned for the negligence resulting from +his easy temper, and his sunny smile and kind words softened the +asperity with which she would have ruled her household. Their son was +engaged in mercantile business in a neighboring city, and their home +would have been desolate but for the presence of little Clara. She was +the sunshine of the old man's heart, and he forgot toil and weariness +when he sat down by his own fireside, with the merry prattler upon his +knee, and her little arms were twined about his neck. She was the +image of his lost sister, and it seemed to him but a little while +since her mother had sat thus upon his knee, and lavished her caresses +upon him. In spite of the predictions of the worthy dame that she +would be spoiled, he indulged her every wish, checking only the +inclination to do wrong. Nor was the good lady herself without +affection for the little orphan, but she wished to engraft a portion +of her own sternness into her nature, and in her horror of prelacy she +did not like to have such a connecting link between her family and +that of the rector. She had never loved Clara's father, yet she could +not find it in her heart to be unkind to the little orphan, so she +contented herself with laying his faults and follies at the door of +the church to which he belonged. Clara had been my playfellow from +infancy, and at the village school we had pursued our studies +together. When my parents decided to place me at a boarding-school on +the banks of the Hudson, I plead earnestly with the deacon that Clara +might go with me. Her aunt objected strenuously to her acquiring the +superficial accomplishments of the world, but the old man for once in +his life was firm, and declared that Clara should have as good an +education as any one in the vicinity. Accordingly we were placed at +Monteparaiso Seminary, where was laid the scene of the last chapter. + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE RETURN HOME. + +Our school-days passed, as school-days ever will, sometimes happily, +and again lingering as if they would never be gone. Clara was still +the same sweet, simple-minded innocent girl, but her mirth was subdued +by thoughtfulness, though the calm tranquillity of her life was +unruffled by the new feeling that had found a place in her heart. She +pursued her studies with constant assiduity, and at the close of our +third year at school, was the first scholar in the institution. She +was advanced beyond others of her age when she entered, and had +improved every opportunity to the best of her abilities after becoming +a member of the school. Three years was the period assigned for our +school-days, and we were to return to Willowdale at the close of that +time. Though we loved our schoolmates dearly, we were happy to think +of meeting once more with the friends from whom we had so long been +separated. Anna Lincoln had left the year before, and Lizzie had taken +her place as Presidentess of "the Sisterhood." Fan Selby had left off +her wild pranks and become quite sedate. Mary Lee was less boisterous +in her mirth than formerly, and the younger members of the school +seemed ready to take the places of those who were about to leave. It +was sad for us when we bade farewell to the companions of years, +though we were pleased with the thought of seeing more of the world +than a school-girl's life would allow. I will not attempt to describe +our joy when we were once more at our homes, nor the warm reception of +those around our own firesides. Never was there a happier man than old +Deacon Lee, as he led Clara to the window, that he might better see +the rich bloom on her cheek, and the light of her eye. "Thank God!" +was his fervent ejaculation, "that you have come to us in health. I +was afraid that so much poring over books would make you look pale and +delicate, as your poor mother did before she died. How much you are +like what she was at your age." Then with a feeling of childish +delight he opened the door of their rustic parlor, and showed her a +small collection of new books, a present from the rector, and a neat +piano, which he had purchased himself in Boston to surprise her on her +return. + +"You are still the same dear, kind uncle," said Clara, as she run her +fingers over the keys, and found its tone excellent; "you are always +thinking of something to make me happy. How shall I ever repay your +kindness?" + +"By enjoying it," was his reply. "The old man has a right to indulge +his darling, and nothing else in this world can make him so happy as +to see your rosy cheeks and bright eyes, and hear your merry voice; +but let us hear you sing and play." + +Tears of delight glistened in the old man's eyes as she warbled +several simple airs to a graceful accompaniment. Mrs. Lee sighed +deeply, and would have given them a long lecture upon the vanities and +frivolities of the world, had not Clara changed the strain, and sung +some of her favorite hymns. + +"Are you not tired?" asked her uncle, with his usual considerate +kindness. "Come, let us go to the garden, and see the dahlias I +planted, because I knew the other flowers would be killed by the frost +before you came home." + +"With pleasure," answered Clara; "but first let me sing a song that I +have learned on purpose to please you." + +Then she sung the beautiful words, "He doeth all things well." The old +man's eyes beamed with a holy light as he listened to the exquisite +music which expressed the sentiments that had pervaded his life. As +she rose from the piano, he laid his hands upon her head caressingly, +saying, "Blessed be His name, who guards my treasures in Heaven, and +has still left me this rich possession on earth." The old lady, melted +by the sight of his emotion, and the sentiment expressed, clasped her +to her heart, and called her her own dear child. + +Months glided on with swift wings, and even Mrs. Lee was forced to +give up her arguments against a fashionable education. She had +predicted that Clara would be a fine lady, and feel above performing +the common duties of life; but every morning with the early dawn she +shared the tasks of her aunt, and seemed as much at home in the dairy +or kitchen as when seated at her piano. Her step was as light and +graceful while tripping over the fields as it had been in the dance, +and her fingers as skillful in making her own and her aunt's dresses, +as they had been at her embroidery. The good dame had learned to love +the piano, and more than once admitted that she would feel quite +lonely without it. So she was fain to retreat from her position, by +saying that her old opinions held good as general rules, though Clara +was an exception, for no one else was ever like her. At length her old +feelings revived when a young farmer in the neighborhood aspired to +the hand of Clara, and was kindly, though firmly, refused. She was +sure that it came of pride, and that the novels she had read had +filled her head with ideas of high life. But her good uncle came to +the rescue, and declared that her inclinations should not be crossed, +and he had no wish that she should marry till she could be happier +with another than she was with them. Clara longed to tell him of her +acquaintance with Philip Sidney, but she feared it would make him +anxious, and resolved to say nothing till time had proved the truth of +her lover. From this time forth the subject of her marriage was not +mentioned, and Clara was left free to pursue her own inclinations. Her +presence was a continual source of happiness to her uncle, and her +life flowed on like a gentle stream, diffusing blessings on all around +her, while a sense of happiness conferred threw a lustre around every +hour. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +CONCLUSION. + +Five years had passed since the commencement of our tale, and Clara +and I still remained at our homes in Willowdale. Life had passed +gently with us, and the friendship formed in our school-days remained +unbroken. It was sweet to recall those days; and we passed many a +pleasant hour in the renewal of old memories. Clara had heard nothing +from Philip Sidney, save once, about a year before, when a letter from +Fan Selby informed her that he had called on them. He had inquired +very particularly after Clara, and said that he intended to visit +Willowdale the following year, but where the intervening time was to +be passed she did not know. It seemed very strange to me that Clara +should not doubt his truth from his long silence, but her faith +remained unshaken. + +It was the day before Christmas, and the young people of Willowdale +were assembled to finish the decorations of the church. The garlands +were hung in deep festoons along the walls, and twined around the +pillars. The pulpit and altar were adorned with wreaths tastefully +woven of branches of box mingled with the dark-green leaves and +scarlet berries of the holly, the latter gathered from trees which the +old rector had planted in his youth, and carefully preserved for this +purpose. On the walls over the entrance was the inscription, "Glory to +God in the highest, on earth peace and good-will to men," in letters +covered with box, after the model of those we had seen in our +school-days. We surveyed our work with pleasure, mingled with anxiety +to discover any improvement that might be made, for we knew that a +stranger was that night to address us. The growing infirmities of the +old rector had for a long time rendered the duties of a pastor very +fatiguing to him, and he had announced to us the Sabbath before, that +a young relative who had lately taken orders, would be with him on +Christmas Eve, and assist him until his health should be improved. The +news was unwelcome to the older members of the congregation, who had +been so long accustomed to hear instruction from their aged pastor +that the thought of seeing another stand in his place was fraught with +pain to them. He had been truly their friend, sharing their joys and +sorrows--and their hearts were linked to him as childrens' to a +parent. At the baptismal font, the marriage altar, and the last sad +rites of the departed, he had presided, and it seemed as if the voice +of a stranger must strike harshly upon their ears. But to the young +there was pleasure in the thought of change; and though they dearly +loved the old man, the charm of novelty was thrown around their dreams +of his successor. No one knew his name, though rumor whispered that he +had just returned from England, where he had spent the last year. No +wonder, then, that we looked with critic eyes upon our work, eager to +know how it must appear to one who had traveled abroad, and lingered +among the rich cathedrals of our fatherland. Clara alone seemed +indifferent, and was often rallied on her want of interest in the +young stranger, I alone read her secret, as she glanced at the gem +which sparkled upon her finger, for I knew that her thoughts were with +the past--and Philip Sidney. + +Christmas Eve arrived, as bright and beautiful as the winter nights of +the North. A light snow covered the ground, and the Frost King had +encrusted it with thousands of glittering diamonds. The broad expanse +of the valley was radiant in the moonbeams, and the branches of the +willows were glittering with frosty gems. The church was brilliantly +lighted, and the blaze from its long windows left a bright reflection +upon the pure surface of the snow. The merry ringing of sleigh-bells +were heard in every direction, and numerous sleighs deposited their +fair burden at the door. There was a general gathering of the young +people from ours and the neighboring villages, to witness the services +of the evening, and brighter eyes than a city assembly could boast, +flashed in the lamp-light. The garlands were more beautiful in this +subdued light than they had been in the glare of day, and their +richness was like a magic spell of beauty to enthrall the senses of +the beholder. Clara and I were seated in one of the pews directly in +front of the altar, occasionally looking back to see the new arrivals, +and return the greetings of friends from other villages. Suddenly the +organ swelled in a rich peal of music, and the old pastor entered, +followed by the youthful stranger. There was no time to scrutinize the +features of the latter ere he knelt and concealed his face, yet there +was something in the jetty curls that rested upon his snowy surplice, +as his head laid within his folded hands that looked familiar, and +Clara involuntarily grasped my hand. As he arose and opened the +prayer-book to turn to the services of the evening, he took a +momentary survey of the congregation. That glance was enough to tell +us that the stranger was Philip Sidney. As his eye met Clara's, a +crimson flush spread over his pale face, his dark eye glowed, and his +hand trembled slightly as he turned over the leaves. It was but a +moment ere he was calm and self-possessed again, and when he commenced +reading the services his voice was clear and rich. The deepest silence +pervaded the assembly, save when the responses rose from every part of +the house. Then the organ peals, and the sweet voices of the choir +joined in the anthems, and again all was still. The charm of eloquence +is universally acknowledged, and the statesman, the warrior, and +votary of science have all wielded it as a weapon of might, but we can +never feel its irresistible power so fully as when listening to its +richness from the pulpit. The perfect wisdom of holy writ, the majesty +of thought, and purity of sentiment it inspires, will elevate the mind +of the hearer above surrounding objects, and when to this power is +added beauty of language and a musical voice, the spell is deeper. +Such was the charm that held all in silent attention while Philip +Sidney spoke. The scene was one which would tend to fix the mind on +the event it was designed to commemorate, and the sweet music of his +words might remind one of the angel's song proclaiming "Glory to God +in the highest, on earth peace and good-will to men." Richer seemed +its melody, and more beautiful his language, as he dwelt upon the love +and mercy of the Redeemer's mission, and the hope of everlasting life +it brought to the perishing. He led them back to the hour when moral +darkness enshrouded the world, and mankind were doomed to perish under +the frown of an offended God. There was but one ray to cheer the +gloom, the prophetic promise of the Messiah who should come to redeem +the world. To this they looked, and vainly dreamed that he should +appear in regal splendor, to gather his followers and form a temporal +kingdom. Far from this, the angel's song was breathed to simple +shepherds, and the star in the East pointed out a stable as the lowly +birth-place of the Son of God. He came, not to rule in splendor in the +palaces of kings, but to bring the gospel of peace to the lowliest +habitations, and fix his throne in the hearts of the meek and +humble-minded. He claimed no tribute of this world's wealth as an +offering, but the love and obedience of those whom he came to save. +Earnestly the speaker besought his hearers to yield to their Saviour +the adoration which was his due, and requite His all-excelling love +with the purest and deepest affections of their hearts. Every eye was +fixed upon the speaker, every ear intently listened to catch his +words, and tears suffused the eyes so lately beaming with gayety. At +the close of his eloquent appeal, there were few in that congregation +unmoved. The closing prayers were read, the benediction pronounced, +and the audience gradually left the house. Clara and I were the last +to leave our seats, and as we followed the crowd that had gathered in +the aisles before us she did not speak, but the hand that rested in +mine trembled like a frightened bird. Suddenly a voice behind us +whispered the name of Clara. She turned and met the gaze of Philip +Sidney. The trusting faith of years had its reward, and those so long +severed met again. Not wishing to intrude upon the joy of that moment, +I left them, and followed on with the old rector. We walked on in the +little foot-path that led to our homes; and while Clara's hand rested +upon his arm, the young clergyman told the tale of his life since +their parting. + +"But how did it come," asked Clara, "that you chose the sacred +profession of the ministry?" + +"I cannot fully trace the source of the emotions that led me to become +a worshiper at the throne of the Holiest, unless it is true that the +love of the pure and good of earth is the first pluming of the soul's +pinions for heaven. I went to church that Christmas eve, urged only by +the wish to look upon your face once more, yet, when there, the words +of the speaker won my attention. I had listened to others equally +eloquent many times before; but that night my heart seemed more +susceptible to religious impressions. I felt a deep sense of the folly +and ingratitude of my past life, and firmly resolved for the future to +live more worthily of the immortal treasure that was committed to my +charge. Prayerfully and earnestly I studied the Word of Life, and +resolved to devote myself to the ministry. I wrote to my worthy +relative, the rector of Willowdale, for his advice, and found, to my +great joy, that he was your devoted friend. He condemned my rashness +in the avowal I had made to you, and insisted that there should be no +communication between us until I had finished my studies. I consented, +on condition that he should write frequently and inform me of your +welfare. One year ago I had completed my studies, and would have +hastended to you, but my stern Mentor insisted that I should travel +abroad, as he said, to give me a better knowledge of human nature, and +test the truth of my early affection. I have passed the ordeal, and +now, after an absence of five years, returned to you unchanged in +heart." + +The rest of the conversation was lost to me, as I reached my home; but +that it was satisfactory to those engaged in it I know from the fact, +that the next day I had the pleasure of congratulating Clara upon her +engagement, with the full consent of her relatives. The remainder of +the tale is quickly told. The old rector resigned his pastoral charge +to Philip Sidney, with the full approbation of his parishioners; and +it was arranged that the old rector and his wife should remain at the +parsonage with the young clergyman and his bride. Deacon Lee became +warmly attached to Philip, and felt a father's interest in the +happiness of Clara, though he sometimes chid her playfully for keeping +their early acquaintance a secret from him. As for Mrs. Lee, she was +so proud of the honor of being aunt to a minister, that she almost +forgot her dislike to prelacy. It is true she was once heard to say to +one of her gossiping acquaintances, that she would have been better +pleased if Clara had married a good Congregationalist minister, even +if he had not preached quite so flowery sermons as Philip Sidney. + +One bright day in the month of May following was their wedding-day. +The bride looked beautiful in her pure white dress of muslin, with a +wreath of May-blossoms in her hair. Blessings were invoked on the +youthful pair by all, both high and low, and sincere good wishes +expressed for their future happiness. Here I will leave them, with the +wish that the affection of early years may remain through life +undimmed, and that the Christmas Garland, so linked with the history +of their loves, may be their emblem. + + + + +HEADS OF THE POETS. + +BY W. GILMORE SIMMS. + +I.--CHAUCER. + + ----Chaucer's healthy Muse, + Did wisely one sweet instrument to choose-- + The native reed; which, tutored with rare skill, + Brought other Muses[1] down to aid its trill! + A cheerful song that sometimes quaintly masked + The fancy, as the affections sweetly tasked; + And won from England's proud and _foreign_[2] court, + For native England's _tongue_, a sweet report-- + And sympathy--till in due time it grew + A permanent voice that proved itself the true, + And rescued the brave language of the land, + From that[3] which helped to strength the invader's hand. + Thus, with great patriot service, making clear + The way to other virtues quite as dear + In English liberty--which could grow alone, + When English speech grew pleasant to be known; + To spell the ears of princes, and to make + The peasant worthy for his poet's sake. + + +II.--SHAKSPEARE. + + ----'T were hard to say, + Upon what instrument did Shakspeare play-- + Still harder what he did not! He had all + The orchestra at service, and could call + To use, still other implements, unknown, + Or only valued in his hands alone! + The Lyre, whose burning inspiration came + Still darting upward, sudden as the flame; + The murmuring wind-harp, whose melodious sighs + Seem still from hopefullest heart of love to rise, + And gladden even while grieving; the wild strain + That night-winds wake from reeds that breathe in pain, + Though breathing still in music; and that voice, + Which most he did affect--whose happy choice + Made sweet flute-accents for humanity + Out of that living heart which cannot die, + The Catholic, born of love, that still controls + While man is man, the tide in human souls. + + +III.--THE SAME. + + ----His universal song + Who sung by Avon, and with purpose strong + Compelled a voice from native oracles, + That still survive their altars by their spells-- + Guarding with might each avenue to fame, + Where, trophied over all, glows Shakspeare's name! + The mighty master-hand in his we trace, + If erring often, never commonplace; + Forever frank and cheerful, even when wo + Commands the tear to speak, the sigh to flow; + Sweet without weakness, without storming, strong, + Jest not o'erstrained, nor argument too long; + Still true to reason, though intent on sport, + His wit ne'er drives his wisdom out of court; + A brooklet now, a noble stream anon, + Careering in the meadows and the sun; + A mighty ocean next, deep, far and wide, + Earth, life and Heaven, all imaged in its tide! + Oh! when the master bends him to his art, + How the mind follows, how vibrates the heart; + The mighty grief o'ercomes us as we hear, + And the soul hurries, hungering, to the ear; + The willing nature, yielding as he sings, + Unfolds her secret and bestows her wings, + Glad of that best interpreter, whose skill + Brings hosts to worship at her sacred hill! + +[Footnote 1: The Italian.] + +[Footnote 2: Norman.] + +[Footnote 3: The French.] + + +IV.--SPENSER. + + It was for Spenser, by his quaint device + To spiritualize the passionate, and subdue + The wild, coarse temper of the British Muse, + By meet diversion from the absolute: + To lift the fancy, and, where still the song + Proclaimed a wild humanity, to sway + Soothingly soft, and by fantastic wiles + Persuade the passions to a milder clime! + His was the song of chivalry, and wrought + For like results upon society; + Artful in high degree, with plan obscure, + That mystified to lure, and, by its spells, + Making the heart forgetful of itself + To follow out and trace its labyrinths, + In that forgetfulness made visible! + Such were the uses of his Muse; to say + How proper and how exquisite his lay, + How quaintly rich his masking--with what art + He fashioned fairy realms and paints their queen, + How purely--with how delicate a skill-- + It needs not, since his song is with us still! + + +V.--MILTON. + + The master of a single instrument, + But that the Cathedral Organ; Milton sings + With drooping spheres about him, and his eye + Fixed steadily upward, through its mortal cloud, + Seeing the glories of Eternity! + The sense of the invisible and true + Still present to his soul, and in his song; + The consciousness of duration through all time, + Of work in each condition, and of hopes + Ineffable, that well sustain through life, + Encouraging through danger and in death, + Cheering, as with a promise rich in wings! + A godlike voice that, through cathedral towers + Still rolls, prolonged in echoes, whose deep tones + Seem born of thunder, that subdued to music + Soothe when they startle most! A Prophet Bard, + With utt'rance equal to his mission of power, + And harmonies that, not unworthy heaven, + Might well lift earth to equal worthiness. + + +VI.--BURNS AND SCOTT. + + ----Not forgotten or denied, + Scott's trumpet-lay, and Burns's violin-song; + The one a call to arms, of action fond; + The other, still discoursing to the heart-- + The lowly human heart--of loves and joys-- + Such as beseem the cotter's calm fireside-- + Cheerful and buoyant still amid a sadness-- + Such sadness as still couples love with care! + + +VII.--BYRON. + + ----For Byron's home and fame, + It needed manhood only! Had he known + How sorrow should be borne, nor sunk in shame, + For that his destiny decreed to moan-- + His Muse had been triumphant over Time + As still she is o'er Passion; still sublime-- + Having subdued her soul's infirmity + To aliment; and, with herself o'ercome, + O'ercome the barriers of Eternity, + And lived through all the ages, with a sway + Complete, and unembarrassed by the doom + That makes of Nature's porcelain, common clay! + + +VIII.-A GROUP. + +_Shelly and Wordsworth,--Tennyson, Barrett, Horne and +Browning;--Baily and Taylor;--Campbell and Moore._ + + ----As one who had been brought, + By Fairy hands, and as a changeling left + In human cradle, the sad substitute + For a more smiling infant--Shelly sings + Vague minstrelsies that speak a foreign birth, + Among erratic tribes; yet not in vain + His moral, and the fancies in his flight + Not without profit for another race! + He left his spirit with his voice--a voice + Solely spiritual, which will long suffice + To wing the otherwise earthy of the time, + And, with the subtler leaven of the soul, + Inform the impetuous passions! + + With him came + Antagonist, yet still with sympathy, + Wordsworth, the Bard of the contemplative, + A voice of purest thought in sweetest music! + --These, in themselves unlike, together linked, + Appear in unison in after days, + Making progressive still, the mental births, + That pass successively through rings of time, + Each to a several conquest; most unlike + That of its sire, yet borrowing of its strength, + Where needful, and endowing it with new, + To meet the new necessity which still + Haunts the free progress of each conquering race. + --Thus, Tennyson and Barrett, Browning, Horne, + Blend their opposing faculties, and speak + For that fresh nature, which in daily things + Beholds the immortal, and from common forms + Extorts the Eternal still! So Baily sings + In Festus; so, upon a humbler rank, + Testing the worth of social policies, + As working through a single human will, + The Muse of Taylor argues--Artevelde, + Being the man who marks a popular growth, + And notes the transit of a thought through time, + Growing as still it speeds..... + + Exquisite + The ballads of Campbell, and the lays of Moore, + Appealing to our tastes, our gentler moods, + The play of the affections, or the thoughts + That come with national pride; and as we pause + In our own march, delight the sentiment! + But nothing they make for progress. They perfect + The language, and diversify its powers-- + Please and beguile, and, for the forms of art, + Prove what they are, and may be. But they lift + None of our standards; help us not in growth; + Compel no prosecution of our search, + And leave us, where they found us--with the time! + + + + +HOPE ON--HOPE EVER. + +BY H. CURTISS HINE, U. S. N. + + + Poor stricken one! whose toil can gain, + And barely gain, the coarsest fare, + From bitter thoughts and words refrain; + Yield not to dark despair! + The blackest night that e'er was born + Was followed by a radiant morn; + Heed not the world's unfeeling scorn, + Nor think life's brittle thread to sever; + Hope on--hope ever! + + Hope, though your sun is hid in gloom, + And o'er your care-worn, wrinkled brow, + Grief spreads his shadow--'tis the doom + That falls on many now. + Grim Poverty, with icy hand, + May bind to earth with ruthless band + Bright gifted ones throughout the land; + But struggle still that band to sever-- + Hope on--hope ever! + + Sit not and pine that FORTUNE led + Another on to grasp her wreath; + The same blue sky is o'er thy head, + The same green earth beneath, + The same bright angel-eyes look down, + Each night upon the humblest clown, + That sees the king with jeweled crown; + Of these, stern fate can rob thee never-- + Hope on--hope ever! + + What though the proud should pass thee by, + And curl their haughty lips with scorn; + Like thee, they soon must droop and die, + For all of woman born, + Are journeying to a shadowy land, + Where each devoid of pride must stand, + By hovering wings of angels' fanned; + There sorrow can assail thee never-- + Hope on--hope ever! + + Then plod along with tearless eye, + Poor son of toil! and ne'er repine, + The road through barren wastes may lie, + And thorns, as oft hath mine; + But there was ONE who came to earth, + Star-heralded at hour of birth, + Humble, obscure, unknown his worth, + Whose path was thornier far. Weep never! + Hope on--hope ever! + + + + +MEXICAN JEALOUSY. + +A SKETCH OF THE LATE CAMPAIGN. + +BY ECOTIER. + + +On the 15th of September, two days after the storming of Chapultepec, +a small party of soldiers, in dark uniforms, were seen to issue from +the great gate of that castle, and, winding down the Calzada, turn +towards the City of Mexico. This occurred at 10 o'clock in the +morning. The day was very hot, and the sun, glancing vertically upon +the flinty rocks that paved the causeway, rendered the heat more +oppressive. + +At the foot of the hill the party halted, taking advantage of the +shade of a huge cypress tree, to set down a litera, which four men +carried upon their shoulders. This they deposited under one of the +arches of the aqueduct in order the better to protect its occupant +from the hot rays of the sun. + +The occupant of the litera was a wounded man, and the pale and +bloodless cheek, and fevered eye showed that his wound was not a +slight one. There was nothing around to denote his rank, but the camp +cloak, of dark blue, and the crimson sash, which lay upon the litera, +showed that the wounded man was an officer. The sash had evidently +been saturated with blood, which was now dried upon it, leaving parts +of it shriveled like, and of a darker shade of crimson. It had +staunched the life-blood of its wearer upon the 13th. The soldiers +stood around the litter, their bronzed faces turned upon its occupant, +apparently attentive to his requests. There was something in the +gentle care with which these rude men seemed to wait upon the young +officer, that bespoke the existence of a stronger feeling than mere +humanity. There was that admiration which the brave soldiers feel for +him who has led them in the field of battle, _at their head_. That +small group were among the first who braved the frowning muzzles of +the cannon upon the parapets of Chapultepec. The wounded officer had +led them to those parapets. + +The scene around exhibited the usual indications of a recent field of +battle. There were batteries near, with dismounted cannon, broken +carriages, fragments of shells, dead horses, whose riders lay by them, +dead too, and still unburied. Parties were strolling about, busied +with this sad duty, but heaps of mangled carcases still lay above +ground, exhibiting the swollen limbs and distorted features of +decomposition. The atmosphere was heavy with the disagreeable odor, +and the wounded man, turning upon his pillow, gently commanded the +escort to proceed. Four stout soldiers again took up the litera, and +the party moved slowly along the aqueduct, toward the Garita Belen. +The little escort halted at intervals for rest and to change bearers. +The fine trees that line the great aqueduct on the Tacubaya road, +though much torn and mangled by the cannonade of the 13th, afforded a +fine shelter from the hot sun-beams. In two hours after leaving +Chapultepec, the escort entered the Garita Belen, passed up the Paseo +Nuevo, and halted in front of the Alameda. + +Any one who has visited the City of Mexico will recollect, that +opposite the Alameda, on its southern front, is a row of fine houses, +which continue on to the Calle San Francisco, and thence to the Great +Plaza, forming the Calles Correo, Plateros, &c. These streets are +inhabited principally by foreigners, particularly that of Plateros, +which is filled with Frenchmen. To prevent their houses from being +entered by the American soldiery upon the 14th, the windows were +filled with national flags, indicating to what nation the respective +owners of the houses belonged. There were Belgians, French, English, +Prussians, Spanish, Danes, and Austrians--in fact, every kind of flag. +Mexican flags alone were not to be seen. Where these should have been, +at times, the white flag--the banner of peace--hung through the iron +railings, or from the balcony. In front of a house that bore this +simple ensign, the escort, with the litera, had accidentally stopped. + +The eye of the wounded officer rested mechanically upon the little +flag over his head, when his attention was arrested by noticing that +this consisted of a small, white lace handkerchief, handsomely +embroidered upon the corners, and evidently such as belonged to some +fair being. Though suffering from the agony of his wound, there was +something so attractive in this discovery, that the eyes of the +invalid were immediately turned upon the window, or rather grating, +from which the flag was suspended, and his countenance changed at +once, from the listless apathy of pain to an expression of eager +interest. A young girl was in the window, leaning her forehead against +the _reja_, or grating, and looking down with more of painful interest +than curiosity upon the pale face beneath her. It was the window of +the _entresol_, slightly raised above the street, and the young girl +herself was evidently of that class known to the aristocracy of Mexico +as the "leperos." She was tastefully dressed, however, in the +picturesque costume of her class and country, and her beautiful black +hair, her dark Indian eye, the half olive, half carmine tinge upon her +soft cheek, formed a countenance at once strange, and strikingly +beautiful. Her neck, bosom, and shoulders, seen over the window-stone, +were of that form which strikes you as possessing more of the oval +than the rotund, in short the model of the perfect woman. + +On seeing the gaze of the wounded man so intently fixed upon her, the +young girl blushed, and drew back. The officer felt disappointed and +sorry, as one feels when the light, or a beautiful object is suddenly +removed from his sight; still, however, keeping his eyes intently +fixed upon the window, as though unable to unrivet his gaze. This +continued for some moments, when a beautiful arm was plunged through +the iron grating, holding in the most delicate little fingers a glass +of pi[~n]al. + +A soldier stepped up, and taking the proffered glass, held it to the +lips of the wounded officer, who gladly drank of the cool and +refreshing beverage, without being able to thank the fair donor, who +had withdrawn her hand at parting with the glass. The glass was held +up to the window, but the hand that clutched it was coarse and large, +and evidently that of a man. A muttered curse, too, in the Spanish +language, was heard to proceed from within. This was heard but +indistinctly. The invalid gazed at the window for some minutes, +expecting the return of the beautiful apparition, then as if he had +given up all hope, he called out a "gracias-adios!" and ordered the +escort to move on. The soldiers, once more shouldering the litera, +passed up the Calle Correo, and entered the Hotel Compagnon, in the +street of Espiritu Santo. + +For two months the invalid was confined to his chamber, but often, +during that time, both waking and dreaming, the face of the beautiful +Mexican girl would flit across his fevered fancy. At the end of this +time his surgeon gave him permission to ride out in an easy carriage. +He was driven to the Alameda, where he ordered the carriage to halt +under the shade of its beautiful trees, and directly in front of the +spot where he had rested on entering the city. He recognized the +little window. The white flag was not now there, and he could see +nothing of the inmates. He remained a considerable time seated in the +carriage, gazing upon the house, but no face appeared at the cold iron +grating, no smile to cheer his vigil. Tired and disappointed, he +ordered his carriage to be driven back to the hotel. + +Next day he repeated the manoeuvre, and the next, and the next, with a +like success. Probably he had not chosen the proper time of day. It +was certainly not the hour when the lovely faces of the Mexican women +appear in their balconies. This reflection induced him to change the +hour, and, upon the day following, he ordered his carriage in the +evening. Just before twilight, it drew up as usual under the tall +trees of the Alameda. Imagine the delight of the young officer, at +seeing the face of the beautiful Mexican through the gratings of the +_reja_. + +The stir made by the stopping of the carriage had attracted her. The +uniform of its inmate was the next object of her attention, but when +her eyes fell upon the face of the wearer, a strange expression came +over her countenance, as if she were struggling with some indistinct +recollections, and all at once that beautiful countenance was suffused +with a smile of joy. She had recognized the officer. The latter, who +had been an anxious observer of every change of expression, smiled in +return, and bowed an acknowledgment, then turning to his servant, who +was a Mexican, he told him, in Spanish, to approach the window, and +offer his thanks to the young lady for her act of kindness upon the +15th of September. + +The servant delivered the message, and shortly afterward the carriage +drove off. For several evenings the same carriage might be seen +standing under the trees of the Alameda. An interesting acquaintance +had been established between the young officer and the Mexican girl. +About a week afterward, and the carriage appeared no more. The invalid +had been restored to perfect strength. + +December came, and upon the 15th of this month, about half an hour +before twilight, an American officer, wrapped in a light Mexican +cloak, passed down the Calle San Francisco, and crossed into the +Alameda. Here he stopped, leaning against a tree, as though observing +the various groups of citizens, who passed in their picturesque +dresses. His eye, however, was occasionally turned upon the houses +upon the opposite side of the street, and with a glance of stealthy, +but eager inquiry. At length the well-known form of the beautiful +"lepera" appeared at the window, who, holding up her hand, adroitly +signaled the officer with her taper, fan-like fingers. The signal was +answered. She had scarcely withdrawn her hand inside the reja when a +dark, scowling face made its appearance at her side, her hand was +rudely seized, and with a scream she disappeared. The young officer +fancied he saw the bright gleaming of a stiletto within the gloomy +grating. + +He rushed across the street, and in a moment stood beneath the window. +Grasping the strong iron bars, he lifted himself up so as to command a +view of the inside, which was now in perfect silence. His horror may +be imagined when, on looking into the room, he saw the young girl +stretched upon the floor, and, to all appearances, dead. A stream of +blood was running from beneath her clothes, and her dress was stained +with blood over the waist and bosom. With frantic energy the young man +clung to the bars, and endeavored to wrench them apart. It was to no +purpose, and letting go his hold, he dropped into the street. The +large gate of the house was open. Into this he rushed, and reached the +_patio_ just in time to catch a glimpse of a figure escaping along the +azotea. He rushed up the steep stone stairway, and grasping the +parapet, raised himself on the roof. The fugitive had run along a +series of platforms of different heights, composed by the azoteas of +houses, and had reached a low roof, from which he was about to leap +into an adjoining street, where he would, in all probability, have +made good his escape. He stood upon the edge of the parapet, +calculating his leap, which was still a fearful plunge. It was not +left to his choice whether to take or refuse it. A pistol flashed +behind him, and almost simultaneously with the report he fell forward +upon his head, and lay upon the pavement below, a bruised and bleeding +corpse. His pursuer approached the parapet, and looked over into the +street, as if to assure himself that his aim had been true, then +turned with a fearful foreboding, and retraced his way over the +azoteas. His fears, alas! were but too just. She was dead. + + + + +TO GUADALUPE. + +BY MAYNE REID. + + + Adieu! oh, in the heart's recess how wildly + Echo those painful accents of despair-- + And spite our promise given to bear it mildly; + We little knew how hard it was to bear + A destiny so dark: how hard to sever + Hearts linked as ours, hands joined as now I grasp thee + In trembling touch: oh! e'er we part forever, + Once more unto my heart love's victim let me clasp thee! + + It is my love's last echo--lone and lonely + My heart goes forth to seek another shrine, + Where it may worship pronely, deeming only + Such images as thee to be divine-- + It is the echo of the last link breaking, + For still that link held out while lingering near thee-- + A secret joy although with heart-strings aching + To breathe the air you breathed--to see, to hear thee. + + And this link now must break--our paths obliquing + May never meet again--oh! say not never-- + For while thus speaking, still my soul is seeking + Some hope our parting may not be forever-- + And like the drowning straggler on the billow, + Or he that eager watches for the day, + With throbbing brain upon a sleepless pillow-- + 'Tis catching at the faintest feeblest ray. + + Now faint and fainter growing, from thee going, + Seems every hope more vague and undefined-- + Oh! as the fiend might suffer when bestowing + A last look on the heaven he left behind: + Or as earth's first-born children when they parted + Slowly, despairingly, from Eden's bowers, + Looked back with many a sigh--though broken-hearted, + Less hopeless was their future still than ours. + + If we have loved--if in our hearts too blindly + We have enthroned that element divine-- + In this, at least, hath fate dealt with us kindly; + Our mutual images have found a shrine-- + An altar for our mutual sacrifice: + And spite this destiny that bids us sever, + Within our hearts that fire never dies-- + In mine, at least, 'twill burn and worship on forever. + + Thee not upbraiding--thou has not deceived me-- + For from the first I knew _thy compromise_-- + No, Guadalupe--this hath never grieved me-- + I won thy love--so spoke thy lips and eyes:-- + The consolation of this proud possessing + Should almost change my sorrow into bliss: + I have thy heart--enough for me of blessing-- + Another may take all since I am lord of this. + + Why we have torn our hearts and hands asunder-- + Why we have given o'er those sweet caresses-- + The world without will coldly guess and wonder-- + Let them guess on, what care we for their guesses! + The secret shall be ours, as ours the pain-- + A secret still unheeding friendship's pleading: + What though th' unfeeling world suspect a stain, + But little fears the world a heart with anguish bleeding. + + 'Tis better we should never meet again-- + Our love's renewing were but thy undoing: + When I am gone, time will subdue thy pain, + And thou wilt yield thee to another's wooing-- + For me, I go to seek a name in story-- + To find a future brighter than the past-- + Yet 'midst my highest, wildest dreams of glory, + Sweet thoughts of thee will mingle to the last. + + And though this widowed heart may love another-- + For living without love, it soon would die-- + There will be moments when it cannot smother + Thy sweet remembrance with a passing sigh. + Amidst the ashes of its dying embers + For thee there will be found one deathless thought; + Yes, dearest lady! while this heart remembers, + Believe me, thou shall never be forgot. + + Once more farewell! Oh it is hard to yield thee, + To lose for life, forever, thing so fair! + How bright a destiny it were to shield thee-- + Yet since I am denied the husband's care, + This grief within my breast here do I smother-- + Forego _thy_ painful sacrifice to prove, + That I have been, what never can another, + The hero of thy heart, my own sweet victim love. + + + + +THE FADED ROSE. + +BY G. G. FOSTER. + + + Torn from its stem to bloom awhile + Upon thy breast, the dazzling flower + Imbibed new radiance from thy smile-- + But, ah! it faded in an hour. + So thou, from peaceful home betrayed, + In beaming beauty floated by; + But ere thy summer had decayed, + We saw thee languish, faint and die. + + _Extempore. On a Broken Harp-string._ + Too rude the touch--the broken cord + No more may utter music-word, + Yet lives each tone within the air, + Its trembling sighs awakened there. + So in my heart the song I sung, + When thou in rapture o'er me hung, + Still lives--yet thine is not the spell + To lure the music from its shell. + + + + +THE CHILD'S APPEAL. + +AN INCIDENT OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. + +BY MRS. MARY G. HORSFORD. + + + Day dawned above a city's mart, + But not 'mid peace and prayer; + The shouts of frenzied multitudes + Were on the thrilling air. + + A guiltless man to death was led, + Through crowded streets and wide, + And a fairy child, with waving curls, + Was clinging to his side. + + The father's brow with pride was calm, + But trusting and serene, + The child's was like the Holy One's + In Raphael's paintings seen. + + She shrank not from the heartless throng, + Nor from the scaffold high; + But now and then with beaming smile + Addressed her parent's eye. + + Athwart the golden flood of morn + Was poised the wing of Death, + As 'neath the fearful guillotine + The doomed one drew his breath. + + Then all of fiercest agony + The human heart can bear + Was suffered in the brief caress, + The wild, half-uttered prayer. + + But she, the child, beseechingly + Upraised her eyes of blue, + And whispered, while her cheek grew pale, + "I am to go with you?" + + The murmur of impatient fiends + Rung in her infant ear, + And purpose strong woke in her heart, + And spoke in accent clear; + + "They tore my mother from our side + In the dark prison's cell, + Her eyes were filled with tears--she had + No time to say farewell. + + "And you were all that loved me then, + But you are pale with care, + And every night a silver thread + Has mingled with your hair. + + "My mother used to tell me of + A better land afar, + I've seen it through the prison bars + Where burns the evening star. + + "Oh! let us find a new home there, + I will be brave and true, + You cannot leave me here alone, + Oh! let me die with you." + + The gentle tones were drowned by shrill + And long protracted cries; + The father on his darling gazed, + The child looked on the skies. + + Anon, far up the cloudless blue, + Unseen by mortal eye, + God's angels with two spirits passed + To purer realms on high. + + The one was touched with earthly hues + And dim with earthly care, + The other, as a lily's cup + Unutterably fair. + + + + +THE OLD FARM-HOUSE. + +BY MARY L. LAWSON. + + + I love these gray and moss-grown walls, + This ivied porch, and trelliced vine, + The lattice with its narrow pane, + A relic of the olden time; + The willow with its waving leaves, + Through which the low winds murmuring glide, + The gurgling ripple of the stream + That whispers softly at its side. + + The spring-house in its shady nook, + Like lady's bower shadowed o'er-- + With clustering trees--and creeping plants + That cling around the rustic door, + The rough hewn steps that lend their aid + To reach the shady cool recess, + Where humble duty spreads a scene + That hourly comfort learns to bless. + + Upland the meadows lie around, + Fair smiling in the suns last beam; + Beneath yon solitary tree + The lazy cattle idly dream; + Afar the reaper's stroke descends, + While faintly on the listening ear + The teamster's careless whistle floats, + Or distant song or call I hear. + + And leaning on a broken stile, + With woods behind and fields before, + I watch the bee who homeward wends + With laden wing--his labors o'er; + The happy birds are warbling round, + Or nestle in the rustling trees-- + 'Mid which the blue sky glimmers down, + When parted by the passing breeze. + + And slowly winding up the road + The wane has reached the old barn-floor, + Where plenty's hand has firmly heaped + The golden grain in richest store. + This 'mid the dream-land of my thoughts + With smiling lip I own is real, + Yet fancy's fairest visions blend + With all I see, and all I feel. + + Then tell me not of worldly pride + And wild ambition's hopes of fame, + Or brilliant halls of wealth and pride, + Where genius sighs to win a name; + Give _me_ this farm-house quaint and old, + These fields of grain, the birds and flowers, + With calm contentment, peace and health, + And memories of my earlier hours. + + + + +"'TIS HOME WHERE THE HEART IS." + +_WORDS BY MISS L. M. BROWN_. + +MUSIC COMPOSED BY KARL W. PETERSILIE, + +_Professor of Music at the Edgeworth Seminary, N. C._ + +Presented by George Willig, No. 171 Chesnut Street, Philad'a. +[Copyright secured.] + +_Expressivo_ + +[Illustration: music] + + +I've wander'd in climes, where the wild chamois + +_Con spirito_. + +strays, Have gain'd the wild height, Where the fierce +lightning plays, Seen glory and + +_crescendo_ + +greatness in power and might, And honor and splendor +sink in darkness of night, I've sought 'mid the crowd, +pure pleasure, but pain, As the + +_dolce_. + +_Con Anima._ + +bee, that sips sweets, the poison too drained; +Ah! 'twas all delusive, for sorrows would come, +Oh, 'tis home where the heart is, where the heart is 'tis home. + +SECOND VERSE. + + I've courted the breath of a balm southern clime, + Where sweetest of flow'rs, soft tendrils entwine; + Have listed the song bird's notes borne on the air, + That wakens and wafts the rich odors elsewhere; + As tones on the ear so the dream of the past, + Softly plays round the heart-green isle of the waste; + Yes! 'twas all a life-dream, and still 'tis not gone, + Oh, 'tis home where the heart is, where the heart is 'tis home. + +THIRD VERSE. + + I've cross'd the blue sea, I've sought out a home + In the land of the free, freedom beckon'd me come; + And friends of the stranger have sooth'd the sad heart, + With kindness and sympathy, sweet balm for the smart; + The light of the soul, doth play round it still, + Like the perfume the urn, in which roses distil; + Thoughts of affection forbid me to roam, + Oh, 'tis home where the heart is, where the heart is 'tis home. + + + + +REVIEW OF NEW BOOKS. + + _Hawkstone: A Tale of and for England in 184-. New + York: Standford & Swords. 2 vols. 12mo._ + +We were attracted to this novel by seeing the words "fifth edition" on +its title page. After reading it, it is easy to account for its +popularity. It is at once a most exciting romance and a defence of an +unpopular religious body. The author (said to be Professor Sewall,) +belongs to the Oxford School of Episcopalians, or to adopt his own +view of the matter, to the one Catholic church. The object of the +novel is to present the ideas of Church and State held by that class +of religionists who are vulgarly called Puseyites. This is done partly +in the representation of character and narration of incident, which +constitute the romance of the book, and partly by long theological +conversations which occur between a few of the characters. The +interest of the work never flags, and it is among the few religious +novels which are not positive bores to all classes of readers. In +respect to its theology, it gives the most distinct view of the +doctrines of the High Church party of Oxford which we have seen. The +author is as decisive and bitter in his condemnation of Romanism as of +dissent. He considers that the peculiar doctrines and claims which +distinguish the Roman Catholic church from the Church of England are +_novelties_, unknown to the true church of the apostles and the +fathers. He has no mercy for the Romanists, and but little for the +young men of his own school who favor the Papacy. Those who are +accustomed to associate Puseyism with a set of sentimentalists, who +mourn the Reformation, wish for the return of the good old times of +the feudal ages, and give Rome their hearts and Canterbury only their +pockets, will find that such doctrines and practices find no favor in +the present volumes. The greatest rascal in the novel is a piece of +incarnate malignity named Pearce--a Jesuit, whom the author represents +as carrying out the principles of Romanism to their logical results in +practice. + +But if the reader will find his common notions of Puseyism +revolutionized by the present novel, he will be a little startled at +its real doctrines and intentions. The author has the most supreme and +avowed contempt for liberal ideas in Church and State; and for every +good-natured axiom about toleration and representative government he +spurns from his path as a novelty and paradox. There is nothing +dominant in England which he does not oppose. The Whig party he deems +the avowed enemies of loyalty, order and religion. The Conservatives, +with Sir Robert Peel and the Duke of Wellington at their head, he +conceives destitute of principle, and the destroyers of the British +empire. There is not a concession made to liberal ideas within the +present century which he does not think wicked and foolish. The +manufacturing system and free trade, indeed the whole doctrines of the +political economists in the lump, he looks upon alternately with +horror and disdain. He seems to consider the State and Church as an +organized body for the education of the people, whose duty is +obedience, arid who have no right to think for themselves in religion +or politics, for they would be pretty sure to think wrong. All +benevolent societies, in which persons of different religious views +combine for a common object, he considers as productive of evil, and +as an assumption of powers rightly belonging to the church. Indeed, in +his system, it is wrong for any popular association to presume to +meddle with ignorance and crime, unless they do it under the sanction +and control of the church. He considers it the duty of a church +minister to excommunicate every man in his parish who is _guilty_ of +schism--that is, who has the wickedness to be a papist or dissenter. +But it is useless to proceed in the enumeration of our author's +dogmatisms. If the reader desires to know them, let him conceive the +exact opposite of every liberal principle in politics, political +economy and theology, which at present obtains in the world, and he +will have the system of "Hawkstone." + +A good deal of the zest of the novel comes from the throng of +paradoxes in which the author wantons. He has a complete system of +thought to kill out all the mind of the English people, and render +them the mere slaves of a hierarchy, and all for the most benevolent +of purposes. In his theory he overlooks the peculiar constitution and +character of the English people, and also all the monstrous abuses to +which his system would inevitably lead, in his desire to see a +practical establishment of the most obnoxious and high-toned claims of +his church. He is evidently half way between an idealist and a +sentimentalist, with hardly an atom of practical sagacity or knowledge +of affairs. The cool dogmatism with which he condemns the great +statesmen of his country, is particularly offensive as coming from a +man utterly ignorant of the difficulties which a statesman has to +encounter. It is curious also to see how extremes meet; this theory of +absoluteism "fraternizes" with that of socialism. A person reading, in +the second volume, the account of Villiers' dealings with his +tenantry, and his new regulations regarding manufactures, would almost +think that Louis Blanc had graduated at Oxford, and left out in his +French schemes the agency of the church, from a regard to the +prejudices of his countrymen. + +With all its peculiarities and heresies, however, the novel will well +reward the attention of readers of all classes. It is exceedingly well +written, and contains many scenes of uncommon power, pathos and +beauty. With these advantages it may also claim the honor of being the +most inimitable specimen of theological impudence and pretension which +the present age has witnessed. + + + _The Planetary and Stellar Worlds: A Popular Exposition + of the Great Discoveries and Theories of Modern + Astronomy. In a Series of Ten Lectures. By O. M. + Mitchell, A. M. New York: Baker & Scribner. 1 vol. + 12mo._ + +Mr. Mitchell is not only an accomplished astronomer, in every respect +qualified to be the interpreter of the mysteries of his science to the +popular mind, but, if we may judge from the style of his book, is a +fine, frank, warm-hearted, enthusiastic man. On every page he gives +evidence of really loving his pursuit. By a certain sensitiveness of +imagination, and quickness of sensibility, every thing he contemplates +becomes alive in his mind, and an object in which he takes a personal +interest. This gives wonderful distinctness to his exposition of +natural laws, and his delineation of the characters and pursuits of +men of science. His Copernicus, Kepler, Gallileo and Newton are not +dry enumerations of qualities, but vivid portraits of persons. He +seems in close intellectual fellowship with them as individuals, and +converses of them in the style of a friend, whose accurate knowledge +is equalled by his intense affection. So it is with his detail of the +discovery of a new law, or fact in science. His mind "lives along the +line" of observation and reasoning which ended in its detection, and +he reproduces the hopes, fears, doubts, and high enthusiasm of every +person connected with the discovery. His delineation of Kepler is +especially genial and striking. By following this method he infuses +his own enthusiasm into the reader, bears him willingly along through +the most abstruse processes of science, and at the end leaves him +without fatigue, and ready for a new start. + +In the treatment of scientific discoveries, by minds like Mr. +Mitchell's, we ever notice an unconscious personification of Nature, +as a cunning holder of secrets which only the master-mind can wrest +from her after a patient siege. The style of our author glows in the +recital of the exploits of his band of astronomers, as that of a +Frenchman does in the narration of Napoleon's campaigns. This is the +great charm of his book, and will make it extensively popular, for by +it he can attract any reader capable of being interested in a tale of +personal adventure, ending in a great achievement. We can hardly bring +to mind a popular lecturer or writer on science, who has this power to +the extent which Mr. Mitchell possesses it. He himself has it by +virtue of the mingled simplicity and intensity of his nature. + +One of the most striking lectures in Mr. Mitchell's volume is that on +the discoveries of the primitive ages, in which he represents the +processes of the primitive observer, with his unarmed eye, in +unfolding some of the laws of the heavens; and he indicates with great +beauty what would be his point of departure, and what would be the +limit of his discoveries. This lecture is a fine prose poem. There is +a passage in the introductory lecture which grandly represents the +continual watch which man keeps on the heavens, and the slow, silent +and sure acquisitions of new truths, from age to age. "The sentinel on +the watchtower is relieved from duty, but another takes his place, and +the vigil is unbroken. No--the astronomer never dies. He commences his +investigations on the hill-tops of Eden--he studies the stars through +the long centuries of antedeluvian life. The deluge sweeps from the +earth its inhabitants, their cities and their mountains--but when the +storm is hushed, and the heavens shine forth in beauty, from the +summit of Mount Arrarat the astronomer resumes his endless vigils. In +Babylon he keeps his watch, and among the Egyptian priests he inspires +a thirst for the sacred mysteries of the stars. The plains of +Shinar--the temples of India--the pyramids of Egypt, are equally his +watching places. When science fled to Greece, his home was in the +schools of her philosophers: and when darkness covered the earth for a +thousand years, he pursues his never-ending task from amidst the +burning deserts of Arabia. When science dawned on Europe, the +astronomer was there--toiling with Copernicus--watching with +Tycho--suffering with Gallileo--triumphing with Kepler." + +We trust that this volume will have an extensive circulation. It will +not only convey a great deal of knowledge to the general reader, but +will also inspire a love for the science of which it treats. + + + _Harold, the last of the Saxon Kings. By Sir Edward + Bulwer Lytton, Bart. New York: Harper & Brothers._ + +This is Bulwer's most successful attempt at writing an historical +novel, but with all its merits, it is still rather an attempt than a +performance. Considered as a history of the Norman invasion, it +contains many more facts than can be found in Thierry, at least in +that portion of his work devoted to Harold and William. Bulwer seems +to have obtained his knowledge at the original sources, and the novel +is certainly creditable to his scholarship. But he has not managed +his materials in an imaginative way, and fact and fiction are tied +rather than fused together. The consequence is that the work is not +homogeneous. At times it appears like history, but after the mind of +the reader has settled down to a historical mood, the impression is +broken by a violent intrusion of fable, or an introduction of modern +sentiment and thought. It has therefore neither the interest of +Thierry's exquisite narrative of the same events, nor the interest +which might have been derived from a complete amalgamation of the +materials into a consistent work of imagination. Considered also as a +reproduction of ancient men and manners it is strikingly defective. +With many fine strokes of the pencil, where the author confines +himself to the literal fact, his portraits, as a whole, are +overcharged with _Bulwerism_. His imagination is not a mirror. It can +reflect nothing without vitiating it. He does not possess the power of +passing a character through his mind and preserving its individuality. +It goes in as Harold, or Duke William, or Lafranc, but it comes out as +Sir E. Bulwer Lytton, Bart. + +The novel contains much of that seductive sentiment, half romantic, +half misanthropic, which is the characteristic of Bulwer's works, and +it is expressed with his usual beauty and brilliancy of style. Here +and there we perceive allusions to his own domestic affairs, which +none but Lady Bulwer can fully appreciate. Every reader of the novel +must be struck with its attempt at the moral tone. Edith, the heroine, +is the bride of Harold's soul, and Platonism appears in all its +splendor of self-denial and noble sentiments in a Saxon thane and his +maiden. History pronounces this lady to be his mistress, and it +certainly is a great stretch of the reader's charity to be compelled +to view her in the capacity of saint. Not only, however, in the loves +of Harold and Edith, but all over the novel, there is a constant +intrusion of ethical reflections, which will doubtless much edify all +young ladies of a tender age. These would be well enough if they +appeared to have any base in solid moral principle, but they are +somewhat offensive as the mere sentimentality of conscience and +religion, introduced for the purposes of fine writing. Suspicion, +also, always attaches to the morality which exhibits itself on +rhetorical stilts, and the refinement which is always proclaiming +itself refined. Since the time of Joseph Surface there has been a +great decline in the market price of noble sentiments. + + + _The History of England, from the Invasion of Julius + Caesar to the Reign of Victoria. By Mrs. Markham. A New + Edition. New York: D. Appleton & Co. 1 vol. 12mo._ + +This is a new and revised edition of a work which has long been used +in the education of boys and girls. Its information is, of course, +milk for babes. We think that books of this class should be prepared +by persons very different from Mrs. Markham. She, good lady, was the +wife of an English clergyman by the name of Penrose, and she wrote +English history as such a person might be supposed to write it. With +every intention to be honest, her book has many facts and opinions +which boys and girls will have to take more time to unlearn than they +spent in learning, unless they intend to be children their whole +lives. + +There is, however, a story in the volume regarding the Duke of +Marlborough, which we think few of our readers have seen. The duke's +command of his temper was almost miraculous. Once, at a council of +war, Prince Eugene advised that an attack on the enemy should be made +the next day. As his advice was plainly judicious, he was much +exasperated at the refusal of the duke's consent, and immediately +called him a coward and challenged him. Marlborough cooly declined +the challenge, and the enraged prince left the council. Early the +following morning he was awoke by the duke, who desired him instantly +to rise, as he was preparing to make the attack, and added, "I could +not tell you of my determination last night, because there was a +person present who I knew was in the enemy's interest, and would +betray us. I have no doubt we shall conquer, and when the battle is +over I will be ready to accept your challenge." The prince, seeing the +superior sagacity of Marlborough, and ashamed of his own intemperance, +overwhelmed the duke with apologies, and the friendship of the two +generals was more strongly cemented than ever. The anecdote is of +doubtful origin, but it is an admirable illustration both of the +character of Marlborough and Eugene. + + + _Letters from Italy: and The Alps and the Rhine. By J. + T. Headley. New and Revised Edition. New York: Baker & + Scribner. 1 vol. 12mo._ + +We believe that these were Mr. Headley's first productions, and were +originally published in Wiley & Putnam's Library. The present edition +has a preface, devoted to the consideration of the new aspect Italy +has assumed since the book was written, and a very judicious +flagellation is given to that arch traitor and renegade, Charles +Albert, King of Sardinia, whom events have transformed from a +trickster and tyrant into a patriot leader. We agree with Mr. Headley +in thinking that the Italians are more likely to be endangered than +benefitted by his position at the head of their armies. + +"The Alps and the Rhine" is, in our opinion, Mr. Headley's most +agreeable work. The descriptions of scenery are singularly vivid and +distinct, and are given in a style of much energy and richness. The +chapters on Suwarrow's Passage of the Glarus, Macdonald's Pass of the +Splugen, and the Battle of Waterloo, are admirably done. That on +Macdonald is especially interesting. Those who doubt Mr. Headley's +talents will please read this short extract: "The ominous sound grew +louder every moment, and suddenly the fierce Alpine blast swept in a +cloud of snow over the mountain, and howled like an unchained demon, +through the gorge below. In an instant all was blindness and confusion +and uncertainty. The very heavens were blotted out, and the frightened +column stood and listened to the raving tempest that made the pine +trees above it sway and groan, as if lifted from their rock-rooted +places. But suddenly a still more alarming sound was heard--'An +avalanche! an avalanche!' shrieked the guides, and the next moment _an +awful white form came leaping down the mountain_, and striking the +column that was struggling along the path, passed strait through it +into the gulf below, carrying thirty dragoons and their horses with it +in its wild plunge." + + + _Principles of Zoology. Touching the Structure, + Development, Distribution and Natural Arrangement of + the Races of Animals, Living and Extinct. Part I. + Comparative Physiology. By Louis Agassiz and Augustus + A. Gould Boston: Gould, Kendall & Lincoln. 1 vol. + 12mo._ + +The name of Professor Agassiz, the greatest of living naturalists, on +the title page of this volume, is of itself a guarantee of its +excellence. The work is intended for schools and colleges, and is +admirably fitted for its purpose, but its value is not confined to the +young. The general reader, who desires exact and reliable knowledge of +the subject, and at the same time is unable to obtain the larger works +of Professor Agassiz, will find in this little volume an invaluable +companion. It has all the necessary plates and illustrations to +enable the reader fully to comprehend its matter. The diagram of the +crust of the earth, as related to zoology, is a most ingenious +contrivance to present, at one view, the distribution of the principal +types of animals, and the order of their successive appearance in the +layers of the earth's crust. The publishers have issued the work in a +style of great neatness and elegance. + + + _The Writings of Cassius Marcellus Clay, including + Speeches and Addresses. Edited with a Preface and + Memoir by Horace Greely, New York: Harper & Brothers._ + +This is a large and beautiful octavo, and is embellished with an +admirable likeness of Mr. Clay. The people of this country are so well +acquainted with the peculiarities of Cassius M. Clay's manner, that we +will not pause to characterize it; and his views upon public subjects +are so partisan that we leave their discussion to the politicians of +the country. The eminent abilities of Mr. Greely are displayed in the +execution of the duties of editor; and the memoir which introduces the +work does full justice to the subject. + + + _The Odd Fellows' Amulet, or the Principles of Odd + Fellowship Defined; the Objections to the Order + Answered, and its Advantages Maintained. By Rev. D. W. + Bristol. Auburn: Derby, Miller & Co._ + +This is a beautiful little volume, admirably illustrated. It is well +written; will be read with interest by the general reader, and should +be in the possession of every member of the great and beneficent order +which it advocates and vindicates. + + + _The Baronet's Daughters, and Harry Monk._ + +Mrs. Grey, who is recognized as one of the most accomplished female +novelists of the present day, has recently given to the public another +interesting volume, bearing the above title. There are two stories, +both of which are marked by the ability which characterizes the whole +of Mrs. Grey's works, and are well calculated to make a sultry +afternoon pass agreeably away. The American publisher is Mr. T. B. +Peterson, who furnishes a neat and uniform edition of Mrs. Grey's +novels. + + +TO OUR READERS. + +The Proprietors of "Graham's Magazine," desirous of maintaining for it +the high reputation it has secured in the estimation of the people of +the United States, are determined to spare no pains to increase its +value, and make it universally regarded as the best literary +publication in the country. To this end they have placed in the hands +of several of our best engravers a series of plates, which will be +truly remarkable for their superiority in design and execution. As +usual, the pens of the best American writers will be employed in +giving grace and excellence to its pages, and in addition to articles +which have been secured from new contributors of acknowledged ability, +they have the pleasure of announcing that an engagement has been +effected with J. BAYARD TAYLOR, Esq., whose writings are so +extensively known and admired, by which his valuable assistance will +be secured in the editorial department of this Magazine exclusively. +This arrangement will, we are assured, be hailed with pleasure by the +host of friends which the Magazine possesses throughout the Union, as +an earnest that no efforts will be omitted to show the sense the +proprietors entertain of past favors, by rendering their work still +more attractive and deserving of patronage for the future. + + +Transcriber's Note: + +Certain irregularities in spelling and grammar have been left as in +the original. Small errors in punctuation have been corrected without +comment. + +1. page 122--added apostrophe to word 'wont' in phrase '..he wont be +my hero...' + +2. page 123--corrected typo 'will' to 'well' in phrase 'They are all +very will for rich people.' + +3. page 125--corrected error in text 'almost wondering at first what +Angile meant.' to 'almost wondering at first what Augusta meant.' + +4. page 130--corrected typo 'spedily' to 'speedily' in phrase '...fit +a mast to it, which was spedily done.' + +5. page 143--corrected typo 'brightnesss' to 'brightness' in phrase +'...the beauty and brightnesss of that sweet...' + +6. page 153--corrected typo 'stong' to 'strong' in phrase '...or some +stong emotion...' + +7. the notation [~n] has been used to designate an n with a tilde above it + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Graham's Magazine Vol XXXIII No. 3 +September 1848, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE, SEPT 1848 *** + +***** This file should be named 30076.txt or 30076.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/0/7/30076/ + +Produced by David T. 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