diff options
| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-04 10:14:34 -0800 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-04 10:14:34 -0800 |
| commit | c818fd78e638f4be2225a331ad835af0cae40423 (patch) | |
| tree | fd07e6ae29cb442b400f2c9802a2213c1416c8fc | |
| parent | b2b78bd8b4897d0ff4640e2b37c78f0b5be70b23 (diff) | |
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 4 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63639-0.txt | 5463 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63639-0.zip | bin | 112388 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63639-h.zip | bin | 1884971 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63639-h/63639-h.htm | 7285 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63639-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 227884 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63639-h/images/i007.jpg | bin | 277959 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63639-h/images/i098.jpg | bin | 279915 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63639-h/images/i099.jpg | bin | 349251 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63639-h/images/i102.jpg | bin | 360088 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63639-h/images/i104.jpg | bin | 81583 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63639-h/images/i105.jpg | bin | 48023 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/63639-h/images/i112.jpg | bin | 242112 -> 0 bytes |
15 files changed, 17 insertions, 12748 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..15b1a8d --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #63639 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/63639) diff --git a/old/63639-0.txt b/old/63639-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 1c1da61..0000000 --- a/old/63639-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5463 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Graham's Magazine, Vol. XVIII, No. 1, -January 1841, by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Graham's Magazine, Vol. XVIII, No. 1, January 1841 - -Author: Various - -Editor: George R. Graham - -Release Date: November 5, 2020 [EBook #63639] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE, JANUARY 1841 *** - - - - -Produced by Mardi Desjardins & the online Distributed -Proofreaders Canada team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net from -page images generously made available by The Internet -Archive (https://archive.org) - - - - - - GRAHAM’S MAGAZINE. - Vol. XVIII. January, 1841. No. 1. - - - Contents - - Fiction, Literature and Articles - - The Lost Evening - Yoo-Ti-Hu - Leaves from a Lawyer’s Port-Folio - My Progenitors - The Blind Girl - The Reefer of ’76 - The Syrian Letters - Clara Fletcher - Sports and Pastimes - Angling - Review of New Books - - Poetry, Music and Fashion - - The Young Rambler - The Waters of Lethe - Language of the Wild Flowers - A Soldier’s the Lad for Me - To the Pine on the Mountain - Sabbath Bells.—Impromptu - A Sea Scene - Thine—Only Thine - The Indian Maid - The Latest Fashions, January 1841 - - Transcriber’s Notes can be found at the end of this eBook. - - * * * * * - - GRAHAM’S - - LADY’S AND GENTLEMAN’S - - MAGAZINE. - - (THE CASKET AND GENTLEMAN’S UNITED.) - - EMBRACING - - EVERY DEPARTMENT OF LITERATURE: - - EMBELLISHED WITH - - ENGRAVINGS, FASHIONS, AND MUSIC, - - ARRANGED FOR THE - - PIANO-FORTE, HARP, AND GUITAR. - - VOLUME XVIII. - - PHILADELPHIA: - GEORGE R. GRAHAM. - 1841. - - * * * * * - - INDEX - - TO THE - - EIGHTEENTH VOLUME. - - FROM JANUARY, TO JUNE, 1841, INCLUSIVE. - -Alchymist, the, by Mrs. Lambert, 105 -Blind Girl, the, by Mrs. C. Durang, 26 -Blind Girl of Pompeii, the, (_illustrated_), 49 -Clara Fletcher, 40 -Confessions of a Miser, the, by J. Ross Browne, 83, 102, 189 -Clothing of the Ancients, the, by Willam Duane, Jr. 269 -Destroyer’s Doom, the, 115 -Defaulter, the, by J. T. Maull, 164 -Descent into the Maelström, a, by Edgar A. Poe, 235 -Empress, the, 122 -Father’s Blessing, the, by Mrs. S. A. Whelpley, 132 -Grandmother’s Tankard, my, by Jesse E. Dow, 59 -Grandfather’s Story, my, by Lydia Jane Pierson, 217 -Haunted Castle, the, a Legend of the Rhine, 214 -Island of the Fay, the, by Edgar A. Poe, 253 - (_illustrated_,) -Lost Evening, the, by Jesse E. Dow, 2 -Leaves from a Lawyer’s Port-Folio, 13, 224 -Lady Isabel, the, (_illustrated_,) 97, 145 -Lost Heir, the, by H. J. Vernon, 261 -Life Guardsman, the, by Jesse E. Dow, 275 -My Progenitors, by S. W. Whelpley, A. M. 21 -Maiden’s Adventure, the, 109 -Major’s Wedding, the, by Jeremy Short, Esq. 129 -Murders in the Rue Morgue, the, by Edgar A. Poe, 166 -May-Day. A Rhapsody, by Jeremy Short, Esq. 242 -Our Bill, by Mrs. Lambert, 150 -Outlaw Lover, the, by J. H. Dana, 189 -Parsonage Gathering, the, by Mrs. E. C. Stedman, 221 -Poetry: the Uncertainty of its Appreciation, by Joseph 288 - Evans Snodgrass, -Reefer of ’76, the, by the Author of “Cruizing in the 30, 51, 125, - Last War,” 180, 210, 256 -Review of New Books, 47, 92, 142, - 197, 248, 294 -Rescued Knight, the, 64 -Syrian Letters, the, 36, 78, 265 -Sports and Pastimes, 44, 90, 140, - 196, 246, 292 -Silver Digger, the, by M. Topham Evans, 68 -Saccharineous Philosophy, the, 81 -Sketch from Life, a, by J. Tomlin, 136 -Self-Devotion, by Mrs. E. C. Embury, 159 -Thunder Storm, the, by J. H. Dana, 285 -Unequally Yoked, by Rev. J. Kennaday, 159 -Ugolino. A Tale of Florence, by M. Topham Evans, 279 -Worth and Wealth: or the Choice of a Wife, by Ellen 206 - Ashton, -Yoo-ti-hu, by J. Ross Browne, 10 - - POETRY. - -A Soldier’s the Lad for me, by A. McMakin, 25 -April Day, an, by Alex. A. Irvine, 179 -Æolian Harp, to the, 179 -Alethe, by J. S. Freligh, 216 -Brilliant Nor-West, the, by Dr. J. K. Mitchell, 149 -“Blue-Eyed Lassie,” to the, by the late J. G. Brooks, 223 -Callirhöe, by H. Perceval, 100 -Comparisons, by C. West Thompson, 165 -Chimes of Antwerp, the, by J. Hickman, 192 -Dream of the Delaware, the, 56 -Departed, the, 128 -Dusty White Rose, the, by Mrs. Volney E. Howard, 209 -Fairy’s Home, the, 87 -I am your Prisoner, by Thos. Dunn English, M. D. 135 -Invitation, the, by E. G. Mallery, 137 -I Cling to Thee, by T. G. Spear, 234 -Joys of Former Years have Fled, the, by S. A. Raybold, 289 -June, by A. A. Irvine, 287 -Language of Wild Flowers, by Thos. Dunn English, M. D. 20 -Little Children, by Mrs. C. H. W. Esling, 67 -Lines, by E. Clementine Stedman, 114 -Lake George, 124 -Life, by Martin Thayer, Jr. 243 -Lay of the Affections, the, by Mrs. M. S. B. Dana, 268 -Lord Byron, to, by R. M. Walsh, 273 -Mother’s Pride, the, by Mrs. C. H. W. Esling, 205 - (_illustrated_), -Not Lost, but Gone before, by Chas. West Thompson, 87 -Napoleon, by J. E. Dow, 113 -Old Memories, by Mrs. C. H. W. Esling, 188 -Old Rock, to an, by G. G. Foster, 223 -Pine on the Mountain, to the, by Lydia Jane Pierson, 29 -Picture, a, by Mrs. M. S. B. Dana, 158 -Sabbath Bells, Impromptu, by Willis G. Clark, 35 -Sea Scene, a, by Robert Morris, 35 -Skating, by George Lunt, 77 -Soul’s Destiny, the, by Mrs. M. S. B. Dana, 80 -Slighted Woman, a, by the Author of “Howard Pinckney,” 156 -Soliloquy of an Octogenarian, by Pliney Earle, M. D. 241 -Sighs for the Unattainable, by Charles West Thompson, 264 -Sonnet written in April, by Mrs. E. C. Stedman, 278 -Thine—Only Thine, by Mrs. C. H. W. Esling, 39 -Time’s Changes, by John W. Forney, 260 -Voice of the Spring Time, by Martin Thayer, Jr. 209 -Voice of the Wind, the, by Emma, 255 -Waters of Lethe, the, by N. C. Brooks, A. M. 9 -Winter, by J. W. Forney, 82 -Winter Scene, a, by Mrs. E. C. Stedman, 163 -Winter Scene, a, by L. J. Pierson, 192 -Young Rambler, the, by Thomas J. Spear, 1 - - STEEL ENGRAVINGS. - -The Playmates. -Fashions for January (three figures) colored. -The Blind Girl of Pompeii. -Fashions for February (four figures) colored. -Why don’t he Come? -Fashions for March (three figures) colored. -He Comes. -Fashions for April (four figures) colored. -The Mother’s Pride. -Fashions for May. Ladies of Queen Victoria’s - Court—correct likenesses—(seven figures) colored. -The Island of the Fay. -Fashions for June, (three figures) colored. - - MUSIC. - -The Indian Maid, by S. Nelson, 42 -Not for Me! Not for Me! by M. W. Balfe, 88 -You never knew Annette, by C. M. Sola, 138 -Oh! Gentle Love, by T. Cooke, 193 -The Sweet Birds are Singing, by J. Moschelles, 244 -Let Me Rest in the Land of my Birth, by J. Harroway, 290 - - * * * * * - -[Illustration: Painted by J. Lucas. Engraved by J. Sartain. -The Playmates. -Engraved for Graham’s Magazine] - - * * * * * - - GRAHAM’S MAGAZINE. - - Vol. XVIII. JANUARY, 1841. No. 1. - - * * * * * - - - - - THE YOUNG RAMBLER. - - - BY THOMAS G. SPEAR - - - O’er a landscape array’d in the verdure of June, - While the sky was serene, and the birds were in tune, - From his vine-cover’d home, with his dog and his toy, - Went the glad-hearted youth in the hey-day of joy. - - He saunter’d away in his quest of delight, - As heedless of rest as a bird in its flight, - Allur’d by the flowers, and sooth’d by the gale, - O’er the green-sloping hill and the fair sunny vale. - - With a fondness to roam, and a wish to be free, - He bounded in triumph, or whistled in glee, - Now crushing a blossom, or plucking a bough, - Or climbing a tree by the cliff’s rugged brow. - - With his dog at his side, o’er the heather he flew, - Where the clover-bed bloom’d, or the strawberry grew, - And trampled the grass that encumber’d the plain, - While flutter’d the flock from the clustering grain. - - He knew the lone spots of the forest and glen, - The rook of the crow, and the nest of the wren, - And hied as a forager there for his prey, - But left the wood-tenants unharm’d in their play. - - By hedge-row, and brushwood, and briar, and brake, - To the pebble-shor’d brook, and the wild-wooded lake, - He rov’d, while the pathway was leafy and green, - Where bow’d the old oaks o’er the silvery scene. - - And there by the brookside, when tir’d of play, - He gazed on the charms of the slow-dying day, - And thought, as it gave to some lovelier land, - The blaze of that light which the zenith had spann’d, - - That a ray there must be to illumine the heart— - A guide and a goal for man’s innermost part— - A Glory unknown, to be follow’d and bless’d, - That again would recall what it gave to its breast. - - When Love can a lustre so beautiful shed, - It were sad if the soul could be lost or misled, - Or its flight to its source be less cheerful and bright, - Than the blaze of that sun ’neath the curtains of night. - - With the lovely illusions of day’s mellow’d scene, - All around him was radiant, and vocal, and green, - But now as he gaz’d on the sky and the air, - No melody rose, and no splendour was there. - - “Oh! keep me,” he said, “in the path where I stray, - Illum’d by the warmth of some soul-cheering ray— - That my glance may be clear thro’ the cloud and the storm, - When the night of the grave has o’ershadow’d my form.” - - He look’d as a child, but he felt as a man, - And in Wisdom concluded what Folly began; - Then in silence his steps he was fain to resume, - Ere the shadowy fall of the thick-coming gloom. - - Soon up from the shore, and away from the stream, - He wended as one that was wak’d from a dream, - For the voice of a thought had been heard in his heart, - And the lingering whisper was slow to depart. - - His vine-cover’d home in the twilight was nigh, - And the whipporwill sending its plaint to the sky, - And the bark of his dog, and the voice at the door, - He welcom’d with joy when his ramble was o’er. - - Though dear to his vision that forest-bound scene, - With its dwelling of peace on a carpet of green, - The wild spot his memory loves to restore, - Is the path to that stream, and the oak by its shore. - - * * * * * - - - - - THE LOST EVENING. - - - BY JESSE E. DOW. - - - “There is a tide in the affairs of men, which, taken at the - flood, leads on to fortune.” - -“Maurice stay and go with me to the ball at Mrs. Wilson’s this evening,” -said a fairy formed creature with eyes that sparkled with anticipated -delight, as she rested her hand upon a young naval officer’s arm and -gazed upon his manly features. - -“Mary, dearest Mary,” replied the young man in a hesitating manner. “The -stage will leave here at eleven to-night, and if I miss it I shall lose -my only chance of reaching my Frigate. She is under sailing orders—and -will be off in the twinkling of a marline spike, and there’s glory to be -won and——” - -“A seaman’s sepulchre—” said the lovely girl, as the tears started into -her eyes and glittered like tiny pearls upon her long dark eye-lashes. - -“But Maurice, you can go at eleven and accompany me to the ball beside. -The last evening you spend at Belleview should be spent with your -friends.” - -The young man hesitated no longer. “Mary,” said he, “you have conquered, -I will accompany you to Mrs. Wilson’s and leave at eleven—I shall then -bear with me your last impression; and when the tempest howls and the -billows toss their snowy spray around me, when the never wearied Petril -sings in the hollows of ocean astern, and the thunder awakes the echo of -the deep—then while the good ship scuds along her lightning way, will I -recall this evening of light and beauty, and with my dread-nought -wrapped about me, keep my midnight watch, happier far, than the lazy -commodore who snores in a velvet night-cap in his luxurious cabin.” - -“Well, Maurice, you have finished at last,” said the laughing girl -leaning upon his arm, “I never expected to hear the end of your rhapsody -when you commenced—but come let us go in for I have much to do and the -evening approaches.” The young man returned her animated glance with a -gaze of deep devotion and following her, entered the house from the -garden Verandah. There was no one in the drawing-room when Maurice -Fitzgerald and Mary Howard entered. - -“Maurice,” said the young maiden as she pointed out upon the ocean, and -then turned to a table of magazines and annuals, “Nature and art are -placed before you, and I shall leave you to be amused by them until my -father’s return.” Thus saying, the light hearted girl bounded away to -dress for the coming rout. Fitzgerald answered with a smile and then -turned to gaze upon the prospect that spread out before his uncle’s -mansion. The broad Atlantic was seen for several miles rolling in the -crimson light of the setting sun, and the hollow roar of its distant -breakers burst upon his ear. The sea-birds in forked trains were seen -winging their garrulous flight toward the land, and the successful -fishermen were casting their scaly spoil upon the beach. It was a quiet -evening, notwithstanding the wind in cat’s paws ruffled the surface of -the deep, and wailed sadly amid the branches of the elm trees that lined -the avenue in front of the mansion. - -As Fitzgerald gazed upon the scene he thought of his lovely cousin and -then of the glorious profession that he had chosen. The eye of the -mariner loves the ocean. His ear delights in its hollow murmurs, its -lashing surges, its misty shadows, and its constant motion. He feels -that the land is not for him and that his home is on the deep, deep sea. -He sickens in the forest. He grows weary upon the mountain side, the -fairest valley smiles in vain for him, and the babbling river but -carries him away to that mightier deep whose ebb and flood surrounds the -world. The very air—the scent of the sea is far more pleasant to him -than the spicy breezes that sigh o’er India’s isles, and the stout ship -with its tar and rope-yarn, its salt junk, called by sea-men mahogany, -and its duff puddings that defy the tooth of time, is far more agreeable -to him than the altar’d palace of an eastern prince with tables crushing -beneath the weight of costly viands and richest wines. No one can -appreciate the beauty and majesty of the heavens but him who has been -shut out from every other prospect for days and weeks together. How -beautiful it is to lean upon the taffrail in a moonlight night upon an -eastern sea while the sails of the gallant ship from sky to water are -gently filled by the dying Levanter, and watch the broad bright moon as -she travels up the high way of heaven and sheds a brighter lustre upon -the stars. Then the eye penetrates, aye even into the deep blue space -beyond her and as when gazing upon the calm bosom of the middle ocean -sees naught but mysterious shadowings—a waving curtain of eternal blue. - -The topsails of a ship now flashed upon the edge of the horizon, the -quick eye of Fitzgerald soon discovered her to be a vessel of war. He -watched her with intense interest, and as she approached the land the -sun went down to his rest in the deep. - -As the last ray of the golden orb flashed upon the vessel, Fitzgerald -saw plainly that the Cross of Saint George floated at her ensign peak -and that she was an enemy of his country. The stranger having drawn in -sufficiently near to the land, now tacked, and in the uncertain haze of -evening, faded away. - -“I will be the first to communicate the glad tidings to my commander,” -said the young officer, proudly; “and ere many days the haughty Briton -shall humble himself to the stars of the republic.” - -“Well said, my gallant boy,” cried Col. Howard, as he hobbled up to his -future son-in-law, who started like one awakened from a glorious dream. - -“Uncle,” said Fitzgerald with a smile, “I did not hear you enter.” - -“No matter, boy,” said the old soldier, as he screwed his features into -the proper expression for a severe twinge of the gout, and stood silent -for a moment, and then as the pain _evaporated_, continued, “I heard you -and am pleased with your thoughts; you must leave this evening.” - -“Certainly,” said Fitzgerald, smiling. - -The tea urn was now brought in, and the family of Colonel Howard -assembled around the well spread table. A short blessing interrupted by -a few short pishes and pshaws! on account of the severe pains that -constantly seized the old gentleman’s leg, was now said by him; and then -the evening meal was quietly and systematically disposed of. Sage -surmises as to the course of the belligerent stranger, and sager -speculations as to the result of her meeting with an American cruizer, -now occupied the thoughts and conversational powers of the little party; -at length Colonel Howard began to grow drowsy. His arm chair was now -wheeled to the right about—he gave his blessing to his nephew with a -good will, grasped his hand with the frankness of a soldier, and bade -him adieu; then bringing his crutch to the third position of the manual, -he went to sleep. Soon the young couple heard the old man muttering in -his visions of the revolution, “on to Princeton—ha, there goes Knox, I -know his fire—onward my boys—huzza, they fly—the day is ours,” and -then a twinge of the gout played the deuce with his dream, and when it -past away he slumbered as sweetly as a child upon its mother’s breast. -Fitzgerald and Mary now departed for Mrs. Wilson’s, the former having -taken his baggage in the carriage, so as to be ready to step from the -ball room to the stage-coach. - -Mrs. Wilson was one of those comets of fashion who regularly appear with -every cycle of time, and who after setting the cities in a blaze, retire -to the inland towns to renew their fires, and shine forth as planets of -the first magnitude amid inferior stars; believing it to be better to be -the head of a village than the tail of a city. It was currently reported -by scandalising spinsters that she had been a milliner in England, and -having a handsome person was hired by the manager of a country theatre, -there to act the _goddess_ in the play of Cherry and Fair Star. Here she -entrapped the affections of a young nobleman, who by a mock marriage -became her reputed husband. The honey moon soon passed away, and with -the realities of wedded life, came the astounding _denouement_ that the -nobleman’s coachman had officiated as chaplain on the occasion, and that -the marriage was a humbug. This was a downfall to Mrs. Wilson, but she -had no help excepting to marry the butler of his lordship, a man of -considerable wealth, and emigrate to America. His lordship was generous -on the occasion: and the honest butler found himself with a wife, an -estate, and an heir presumptive, all at the same moment. Having money -and a handsome person, the beautiful and well dressed Mrs. Wilson soon -imposed herself upon an aristocratic family in New York as a branch of a -noble stock in England. Mr. Wilson, it may be proper to observe, died on -his passage, and Mrs. Wilson was a widow when she made the highlands of -Neversink. - -There is over all those stale meat pies, ycleped large cities, a -self-styled upper crust that rises in puffs above the solids. It rejects -every thing that is not as light and as trifling as itself, and to say -the least of it, has but little virtue or consistency. It covers the -virtues and the vices of the social compact, and smothers in _flour_ and -_paste_ the unhappy genius who endeavors to penetrate it. As nothing was -made in vain, perhaps this self-important crust, like the web of the -spider, was designed to catch the painted and gilded drones, whose -presence and senseless buzzing might otherwise have disturbed the -working party of mankind at their labors, and have caused them to leave -the world to starve. To this upper stratum of society in New York, Mrs. -Wilson was introduced by her new made friends, and she continued in the -ascendent for three months, but unfortunately for human greatness, one -evening at a large and fashionable rout, a noble marquis was announced, -who to the astonishment of every person present exclaimed, as he was -presented to Mrs. Wilson, “Poll Johnson are you here, when did you leave -the millinary line?” This was sufficient—the party broke up in -confusion, as though a case of plague had occurred in the _circle_. Mrs. -Wilson fainted, and was sent home in a hack as a bundle of soiled linen -is sent to the washerwomen, duly marked and numbered upon the outside; -and the aristocratic family who had been imposed upon by her, went -through with a three weeks’ purification at Saratoga Springs, whence -they returned with a sin offering, in the shape of a real nobleman—a -perfect simpleton of a count—whose soul lay in whiskers, and whose -heart was in bottle green. - -Mrs. Wilson, like the jack daw, stripped of borrowed plumes, left New -York in great haste, and settled upon a country farm near Belleview, -where at the opening of my sketch she reigned mistress of the ton. - -As Mary Howard and Fitzgerald entered the saloon, a number of light -footed creatures preceded by the super-human Mrs. W. came sailing across -the room to meet them. - -The ball had commenced, and numbers were dancing to a tune which was -then in vogue, and which had been made for these words— - - “Come list to me a minute, - A song I’m going to begin it, - There’s something serious in it, - ’Tis all about the Law, - L!——A!——W!——law! - Has got a deuce of a claw.” - -Here the ladies all curtesied to the gentlemen, and the gentlemen all -bowed to the ladies, and all continued for five seconds looking in their -partners faces with pendent arms, straight under-pinnings, body and -breast bent into a half circle, and head erect— - - Like some brass God of Heathen make - In shape unheard of——; - -but as soon as the note expressive of the word _claw_ was ended, which -in the language of Milton, was like - - “Linked sweetness long drawn out;” - -every body like an unstrung bow, resumed its straight position, and then -such a double shuffle commenced as bade defiance to the most agile of -the monkeys of Paraguay, and would have caused a mutiny in the lodge of -the Upper Mandans had the dance been introduced there by the -incomparable Mrs. Wilson. - -The ball went on in its vigor—small talk and sour lemonade, with some -of the thinnest slices of smoked beef, between two equally thin slices -of bread, oiled on one side, and patted down on the other, filled up the -interstices of the evening, and the company were as amiable and as -ceremonious as possible. - -A young gentleman in checkered pantaloons, and a bottle green coat, with -a spotted cravat, and a retiring dickey around his neck, now approached -Miss Howard and her cousin, and was introduced by the presiding deity as -Count Frederick Ampisand, of Hesse Cassel, Germany. - -Fitzgerald did not like the appearance of the count; he gave him a -formal return of civilities and retired to another corner of the room. -Mary Howard who was a perfectly artless creature; but still perverse in -her nature from the indulgence of an invalid mother, and proud of having -her own way, became pleased with the foreigner as Fitzgerald became -disgusted. She admired his pretty broken sentences; his captivating -lisp, his manner of pulling up his dickey, and of raising his quizzing -glass whenever a lady passed him. Forgetting all but her own -gratification, and being desirous of giving Fitzgerald a commentary upon -jealousy—that green-eyed jade—she neglected her lover, and hung upon -the Count’s aspirations as Eve did upon the devil’s whisper in Eden’s -bower. - -Fitzgerald was piqued. In fact he became angry, and joining the dance, -which he had heretofore declined, became the gayest of the gay. He -skipped through a cotillion like a reefer at a dignity ball in -Barbadoes, and the light-footed Mrs. Wilson declared that she discovered -new graces in Mr. Fitzgerald every time he jumped over the music-stool. -Mary Howard now became piqued in turn, and she joined heartily in the -laugh against her lover. A rude remark of the Count’s, and a heartier -laugh of his beloved, at his expense, now stung the young officer to the -soul. He looked at the little knot of critics. The Count was gazing at -him through an enormous quizzing glass, and a smile of scorn curled his -moustached lip. - -Fitzgerald was impetuous and brave. Nature had given him great strength, -and a good share of modest assurance. He walked deliberately up to the -party—“Miss Howard,” said he, “I beg of you to excuse the Count for a -moment. I have a laughable trick to show him in the hall.” The Count did -not relish the proposition to go into the dark entry with the officer. -He had discovered a spice of devil lurking in his eye. But Mary, -suspecting that her cousin was about to divert them with a sea trick -that required the aid of a second person, insisted upon Count Ampisand’s -going with him to oblige her. - -“Aye, ver well to oblige Miss ’Oward. I will go with Neptune,” said the -Count magnanimously. - -“Get your hat,” said Fitzgerald, as the Count left the saloon. - -“I ave him in my pocket,” said Ampisand, pulling from his coat an opera -hat, that answered the double purpose of a “bustle” and a beaver, and -clapping it upon his head. The two lovers now stood at the outside door -from which several steps led to the muddy street. - -“Count Ampisand,” said Fitzgerald, “you are an imposter and a pitiful -scoundrel. I have called you out to insult you. Now, sir, take that, and -be off.” So saying, before the thunder-stricken Ampisand could reply, -Fitzgerald seized him by the nose, and, after giving it no infant’s -pull, presented his front to the street, and administered an impetus to -his after body that carried him into a horse-pond in the middle of the -road. - -“I will ave the satisfacione, begar, Mr. Lieutenant to shoot you wid de -small sword dis night,” said the Count, gathering himself up, and -retreating to the two Golden Eagles in no small haste. Fitzgerald -laughed aloud, and closing the door behind him, walked lazily toward the -shore of the ocean. After walking for half an hour upon the wild sea -beach, Fitzgerald turned his steps toward Mrs. Wilson’s for the purpose -of bidding his cousin farewell. - -Coming footsteps now aroused him from his reverie, and soon a young -gentleman from the city, accompanied by a surgeon, and Count Ampisand, -came up to him. A challenge was received and accepted, and Fitzgerald -named the present as the only time. After much haggling about the -unseasonableness of the hour, and the disturbance the duel might create -in the vicinity of Mrs. Wilson’s,—on the part of the challenging -party—the count, who had been refreshing his courage with some old -port, prepared to meet his antagonist on the spot. - -Small swords had been brought by Ampisand’s friend, and the surgeon, who -was an acquaintance of Fitzgerald, undertook to act as his second. The -gentle breeze was singing a lullaby to the ocean, and the sound of the -distant viol broke upon their ears. The ground was now paced out—the -principals were placed, and the words, one! two! three! guard! were -given, and the duel commenced. For a few seconds the parties appeared to -be equally matched, but at length the count, whose body seemed -wonderfully to have increased in size since the insult, began to pant -and blow like a porpoise out of water. Fitzgerald now caught the count’s -sword in the fleshy part of his arm, and ran him through the body. The -wounded man dropped his weapon, and fell heavily upon the ground. -Fitzgerald and the surgeon ran up to him,—“Forgive me,” said the -apparently dying man, whispering in Fitzgerald’s ear, “I loved Mary -Howard, and would have borne her away from you, but now, alas, my -prospects are blighted, and I must pay for my folly with my blood.” - -“He does not bleed,” said the surgeon, mournfully. - -“Alas, my friend is mortally wounded,” said the count’s second, putting -a bottle of Scotch snuff to his mouth, instead of a phial of brandy. The -wounded man grated his teeth violently, and rejected all aid. Lights now -came from Mrs. Wilson’s toward them, notwithstanding the moon shone -brightly to dim them. - -“Is there no hope?” said Fitzgerald to the surgeon. The medical man -raised the body up—a cold sweat was upon the face—death seemed nigh at -hand. He shook his head. - -“Fly, sir,” said Ampisand’s second, “or you will be taken, the crowd are -near at hand.” - -“Go to my lodgings,” said the surgeon, “and I will meet you there in a -few minutes.” - -Ampisand’s friend and Fitzgerald now took the swords and ran across the -churchyard, which made a short cut to the surgeon’s. As they reached the -street they heard a stage-coach rattling furiously down the main street. -Fitzgerald stopped. He saw it was far ahead—he uttered a faint cry—his -chance of reaching his frigate was past. The surgeon soon came. The -wounded man was in the charge of a German doctor, at Mrs. Wilson’s. The -ladies had nearly all gone home in fainting fits, and Mary Howard had -left in a flood of tears. This confirmed Fitzgerald’s suspicions. “She -loved him,” said he “and, oh, what have I lost by this evening’s -devotion!” - -Fitzgerald’s arm pained him considerably, and the surgeon dressed it. A -carriage was then sent for, to bear the young officer to his post; and -while it was being made ready, he threw himself upon the surgeon’s -truckle bed, and caught an unquiet nap. It was nearly 3 o’clock of a -cold wet morning,—for a storm had ushered in the day,—when the unhappy -Fitzgerald departed in a close carriage from Belleview. - -For the first stage he had a hope of overtaking the post, but his horses -began to lag with the advance of day, and it was three P. M. before he -arrived at the point of embarkation. As he drew up at the Bowery House, -he watched eagerly for some one of his brother officers, but none -appeared to greet him. He paid his coachman and bounded into the -passage. The bar-keeper met him at the door. - -“Where is the Frigate, Dennis?” said he impatiently. - -“She sailed at nine this morning,” said the bar-keeper, “and is now out -at sea.” - -Maurice Fitzgerald, I have said, was a brave man. He could have faced -death upon the blood-stained deck, and gloriously braved the brunt of -battle, but now he felt his strength depart, and retiring suddenly to -his room, burst into a flood of tears. After a few moments, his moral -courage returned. “I have merited this,” said he, “by acceding to her -girlish whims. I must now make the best of a bad matter, and trust to -fortune for success.” He now proceeded to act in a calm manner. He wrote -a hasty note to Col. Howard, detailing the circumstances of the case as -they occurred, and sending his formal respects to Mary. He wrote a line -to his aged father, of the same character, and furthermore stated his -intention of joining his vessel by the aid of a pilot boat. Having paid -his bill, he sold a check upon his banker, purchased a sea-cloak and a -brace of pistols, and with his valise in his hand, boarded a fast -sailing pilot, at Beckman’s Slip. A bargain was soon struck, and the -light craft, with Fitzgerald at the helm, turned her head to the sea. On -the way down, they met the pilot who had taken the frigate to sea, and -ascertained her course. Trusting, then, to the swiftness of the boat, -that had several days provision on board, the young officer boldly -steered for the Atlantic, and when the sun set, the highlands of -Neversink were astern. - -During the night, which continued wet and gloomy, the wind, in fitful -puffs, hurled them swiftly o’er the waves, and, when the morning came, -the long, swelling billows of the ocean tumbled o’er them, and the -sheer-water darted ahead along the thunder-chaunting waves. Nothing was -to be seen but the clouds above, and the gloomy waves below, which came -together at the edge of the horizon like the lid and bottom of a -circular tobacco box, when closed. The old pilot was now confident that -the frigate had changed her course during the evening preceding, and -that all possibility of his overtaking her was gone. With a heavy heart, -therefore, Fitzgerald put his helm down, the tacks and sheets were -shifted, the snowy canvass felt again the side-long breath of the gale, -and the little bark drew in toward the distant shore. - -A suspicious looking schooner now hove in sight, and bore down upon them -with the swiftness of the wind. The pilot, from the first, did not like -her appearance, and Fitzgerald, although he said nothing to alarm his -companion, felt confident that she was a pirate. In less than an hour, -the warlike stranger shot across their bows, fired a gun, loaded with -grape, at their sails, and hoisted the black flag of the Bucaniers. - -All resistance to this antagonist would have been madness, and the pilot -obeyed the hoarse hail, and ran alongside the pirate. Twenty rough -looking rascals, each armed to the teeth, with a young man of higher -rank at their head, sprang into the pilot boat, and after making sundry -motions, which seemed to imply a speedy cutting of their throats, bound -the pilot and his men. Fitzgerald, however, resisted the party that came -upon him, and with his pistols soon wounded two of the pirates. A -cutlass now flashed before his eyes, and sense and reason departed. - -When Fitzgerald again became conscious of existence, he found himself in -a cot, swinging in a beautiful cottage, in the vicinity of the sea, for -he could hear the solemn roar of breakers, and the screams of the -sea-birds, as they revelled amid the foam. A beautiful Creole maiden -stood by his bed side, chaunting a low, mournful tune, while she brushed -away the flies from his pillow with a long fan made of peacock’s -feathers. - -He looked at her for some seconds, and then as the thought of his cousin -past across his brain, a deep sigh burst from his lips. The maiden -started—“hush,” said she, putting her finger to her lips, and stepping -to the side table, handed him a composing draught in a silver goblet. He -drank the contents with gratitude, and soon fell into a sweet sleep. - -It was nearly sunset when Fitzgerald awoke, completely invigorated in -body and mind. He looked around him,—no one was to be seen. He called, -but no one answered his summons. He now determined to find out where he -was. His clothes were in a chair beside his cot, and his valise was upon -the dressing table. He raised himself slowly upon his arm,—finding that -he was not in want of strength, he sprang out of the cot and dressed -himself. He now viewed his face in a huge Spanish mirror, that hung over -a taper, with the holy letters I. H. S. below it. He started back in -astonishment. A cruel cut had laid open his marble forehead to the -scull, and a long, purple scar, scarcely healed, marked the track of the -cutlass. Having brushed his long, black hair over the disfiguration, he -went to the window and looked out upon the surrounding face of nature. -He saw he was upon a small island, in the midst of a host of others, and -that the narrow passes between them were filled with clippers and -man-o’-war boats, apparently returning from cruizes upon the main. It -was a romantic spot, unlike any other in the world. About sixty -cottages, like the one he occupied, rose in the distance, each with its -garden and verandah. Groves of orange and lemon trees, loaded with ripe -fruit, waved their tops of eternal green around, and filled the -atmosphere with a delicious odor. - -The waves broke over the long, bold reefs that lined the islands, and -the sky was dotted with flocks of sea-birds. Here and there a solitary -pine tree sprung from a crevice in the rocks, where its cone had been -thrown up by the dash of some sweeping wave whose crest had borne it -across the sea. It was Noman’s Group, and was not far from Cape Flyaway. - -Fitzgerald had hardly made the discoveries above related, when the -lovely Creole, with an officer in a naval uniform, entered the chamber. -They saluted Fitzgerald with kindness, and appeared to be astonished at -his sudden improvement. He now found a ready market for the smattering -of Spanish he had picked up among the Dagos of Mahon, and in half an -hour his store was exhausted. - -From them he learned that the pilot had been set adrift in his boat, -after having furnished all the information desired; but that he, from -his resistance, had been retained to be killed at leisure. Having, -however, from a fever of the brain, continued insensible so long,—it -being then the thirtieth day,—the pirates concluded to send him to the -Hospital Island, to be restored to health. He was now with his surgeon -and attentive nurse, and would be reported “_well_,” on the coming -Saturday. His attendants refused to tell him where he was. All distances -and names of places were carefully concealed, and all that he could -ascertain was, that a direct communication was kept up with the American -Continent, and that newspapers were brought to the islands from the -United States weekly, and would be furnished him if he desired them. - -Fitzgerald was lavish of his thanks for such kindness, and begged that -the latest newspapers from New York might be given him. - -The Creole girl left the room immediately, and presently a boat was seen -putting off to a brig in the pass, opposite the cottage. - -The surgeon now drew his chair closer to that of his patient, and became -less reserved. The latter soon understood that it had been decided by -the pirates that upon his recovery he should join them or be shot upon -the cliff. The blood of Fitzgerald boiled in his veins at the bare -proposal of the Bucanier, but before he gave his anger words, his lovely -Creole approached with a package of New York dailies, taken the week -previous from an outward bound brig. Forgetting every thing else in his -desire to hear from his native land, he opened the first paper that met -his eye, and read the following:—“Arrived, the United States Frigate -——, with His Britannic Majesty’s Ship —— of forty-four guns, in tow, -as a prize. The action lasted thirty minutes, when the British frigate -struck her flag. Capt. —— immediately left the frigate and proceeded -to Washington with the enemy’s flag. The official account of this -gallant action will be given to-morrow. Suffice it to say that every -officer and man did his duty, and that promotion, and the thanks of a -grateful country await the victors.” In another paper he read a list of -promotions in the navy, and his own dismissal from the service. The -marriage list now caught his eye, and he read,—“Married in Belleview, -on the 1st instant, by the Reverend Mr. Smell Fungus, Count Frederick -Ampisand, of Hesse Cassel, Germany, to Miss Mary Howard, the only -daughter of Col. John Howard, of the revolutionary army. - - “Love is the silken cord that binds - Two willing hearts together.” - -Every word of this paragraph remained like an impression from types of -fire upon his melancholy brain. - -“Doctor,” said Fitzgerald, throwing down the paper, while the blood -oozed from his scarcely-healed wound,—“tell your leaders that -henceforth I am with them body and soul. The victim of circumstance—the -sport of the world—a cork floating upon the stream of time.—I will be -dreaded, if I cannot be loved.” - -The morning came, and Fitzgerald was introduced to the bucaniers in -their strong hold. Bold and generous, two qualities that always sail in -company, he became a universal favorite at the melee, and o’er the bowl; -and in the course of a short time, he paced along the weather quarter of -the gun brig, King Fisher,—“the monarch of her peopled deck.” - -It was a beautiful summer’s night. The sun had sunk in a dense cloud -bank behind the Bahamas; and the small red bow in the northwest, -accompanied by a hollow sound, as though cannons had been fired far down -beneath the surface of the ocean, gave evidence of the near approach of -a norther. - -The brig was soon prepared for the war of the elements, whose signal -guns had been heard wakening the lowest echoes of the deep. Her head was -brought so as to receive the first burst of the tempest’s fury; -conductors were rigged aloft, and their chains of steel rattled sharply -as they descended into the sea along side. The light spars were sent -down, her storm stay-sail was set, and she rode the heaving billows like -a duck. - -A tall merchantman, bound apparently to the Havana, now swept along to -the windward of the islands under a press of canvass. Fitzgerald saw -that she was crowded with passengers, and his soul sickened at the -thought, that ere the morning dawned that gallant bark would be a wreck -upon an iron-bound coast, and her host of human beings would lie the -play things of the shark, and the lifeless sport of the thunder-pealing -waves. A sudden throb of sympathy moved his heart, a tear—the first, he -had shed for months—started to his eye. He grasped his trumpet—his -topsails were unfurled and in less than an hour he occupied a station to -the windward of THE DOOMED SHIP. His canvass was now reduced as before, -and under the smallest possible sail, he stretched ahead of the -merchantman. - -The norther now came on in its fury—from the red bow that had reached -the zenith, a bright flash of blinding lightning darted in a long bright -stream and parted into a thousand forks, and then came a crash of -thunder with the almost resistless wind. The King Fisher was borne down -to her bearings, and then righted again, and gallantly faced the blast. -Not so with the crank merchantman. Her tall masts were whipped out of -her in a twinkling; the ocean surges swept her deck fore and aft: and -she lay tossing in the trough of the sea a helpless wreck. - -At midnight the fury of the blast died away, and the sea that had rolled -in terrific waves began to go down. The brig under a reefed foresail and -maintopsail now danced again from billow to tasseled-tipt billow, and -gained rapidly upon the sea washed wreck. As the King Fisher drew near -the once gallant vessel, Fitzgerald heard a voice crying in agony for -help. He looked over the head and saw a female floating upon a spar, a -short distance before him. To brace round his topsail-yard, lay to, and -lower the life boat, was but the work of a moment, and with six trusty -fellows he launched out upon the midnight deep. - -In a few moments he caught the almost lifeless female by the hair, and -wrapped her in his sea-cloak—“To the wreck,” said he, in a voice of -thunder, as his starboard oars backed water to return to their craft. -The crew gave way with a will, and immediately the life boat made fast -to the loose rigging of the wreck. Preceded by Fitzgerald, two of his -men mounted the vessel’s side. Fitzgerald as he sprang upon the deck -started back with astonishment. Colonel Howard stood before him in a -long robe of white flannel, apparently as free from the gout as the -youngest of the party. - -“Uncle,” said the young officer, with a cry of delight, “what a -meeting!” - -The old man looked up, “Rash and impetuous boy,” said he, with a voice -trembling with joy and astonishment, “you have not lost all sympathy -yet; I have been in search of you, but little did I expect such a -meeting. Poor Mary, oh, that she had remained a few moments longer.” - -“Is Mary here?” said Fitzgerald, casting a troubled glance around the -anxious crowd that had gathered around the speakers. - -“No,” said the old veteran, clasping his hands and lifting up his eyes -streaming with tears—“She was swept out of my aged arms by the last -sea, and is now in heaven.” - -“She is in my boat,” said Fitzgerald, “I thought that voice was Mary’s -as it came from the deep, but come let us haste, the wreck may go down -with us while we stand here.” - -“Are you all armed in the boat?” hailed Fitzgerald, in a voice of -thunder. - -“Aye, aye, sir,” was the gruff answer from the ones who remained in her. - -“Then shoot the first person who attempts to enter her without my -orders,” said Fitzgerald; the pirates cocked their pistols, and sat -ready to execute his commands. The two men who had boarded the wreck -with him were now ordered to make ropes fast to the ends of a hammock; -one rope was then thrown to the boat’s crew, while the other remained on -board the wreck. The aged men and women, one by one, were now lowered by -this simple contrivance to the boat; and when she was sufficiently -loaded, Fitzgerald ordered one of his men on board to steer her, with -orders to see that the passengers were not molested until he came on -board. Seven times the life boat, filled with the passengers and crew of -the Rosalie, whose captain had been washed away, made its voyage of -mercy, and having cleared the wreck, the noble-hearted -Fitzgerald—plunged into the waves and reached the boat in safety—this -had been made necessary by the parting of the rigging that held the -boat. The whole were saved, and as the life boat was run up to the -davits, the wreck plunged heavily to leeward, a heavy wave rolled over -her and she was seen no more. - -It was a bright morning at the Bahamas when the King Fisher took her -departure for the Florida reef. Fitzgerald now entered his cabin for the -first time since the rescue, and the thousand thanks that were showered -upon him by the aged and the young—by the strong man—the gentle -woman—and the lisping child almost overpowered him. - -He received their congratulations in a proper manner, and modestly -informed them that he had but performed his duty. He bade them welcome -to the best his poor brig afforded, and promised to land them at the -nearest port. Mary Howard, pale and weak, now came out of her little -state-room. She cast her round black eyes which beamed fearfully bright -upon Fitzgerald. A crimson cloud past over her snowy face,—“It is he,” -she screamed, while the tears that had so long refused to flow from -their sealed fountains filled her eyes; Fitzgerald sprang to meet her, -and in a moment she fell lifeless into his open arms. - -Colonel Howard now bade the young officer place his daughter upon the -sofa in the after cabin: and having seen her revive, retired and left -them alone. - -The unfortunate Mary now became calm and collected, and with a heart -overflowing with gratitude, and eyes suffused with tears, related to -Fitzgerald the events that had transpired since his departure, and the -cause of her present voyage amid the horrors and uncertainties of war. - -It seems that Count Ampisand had stuffed his clothes with pillows, and -that Fitzgerald’s sword had barely grazed his noble body, having been -warded off by the feathers that filled his stuffing. This accounted for -the entire absence of blood. The count of course soon became -convalescent. - -Mary Howard ever generous, and feeling that she had been the unhappy -cause of the duel, prevailed upon her father to take the wounded -foreigner to his house on the night of the duel. Ampisand was delighted -with this state of things, and he pressed his suit upon Mary Howard -warmly: but she repelled his advances with scorn. Mrs. Wilson, however, -and her scandalising circle, could not wait for Count Ampisand to get -married in the regular way, and believing in the absence of Fitzgerald -that Mary Howard could not refuse the amiable and accomplished count, -they prevailed upon a travelling letter writer—one of those drag nets -for second-handed news—to put a paragraph in his _master’s_ paper for -the fun of it. - -This was the notice that Fitzgerald saw, and which had caused him so -much terrible agony of mind. - -“It is too late to repair the evil,” said Fitzgerald, as he paced the -cabin with a countenance tortured by despair. - -“It is never too late to do a good action,” said Mary Howard, -firmly—“Maurice Fitzgerald you are not the one to bring dishonor upon a -patriot father’s name: or to call down the curse of a sainted mother -upon your head.” The young man bowed his head upon the rudder case, and -the fair girl resumed her narrative. - -The arrival of the scandalous paragraph caused the speedy ejection of -the count from Colonel Howard’s domicil, in no ceremonious manner, and -the instant departure of Mrs. Wilson, bag and baggage. - -Colonel Howard raved like a madman for a week; threatened the editor of -the offending paper with a prosecution; discovered the perpetrators of -the scandal; placarded the whole party as retailers and manufacturers of -falsehoods; and posted Count Ampisand as an imposter and a villain in -every section of the Union. - -The count was shortly afterward tried for stealing spoons and convicted. -The next day he changed his lodgings, and occupied a room on the ground -floor of the castellated building at Moyamensing, which had but one -_grate_, and that was before the window, while Sanderson, the terror of -the genteel sucker, had him served up in his amusing diary of a -Philadelphia Landlord on the next Saturday. - -The departure of Fitzgerald from New York was commended by his brother -officers, but his long absence from the ship could not be satisfactorily -accounted for, and he was dismissed by the navy department. Enquiries -had been made in every section of the country for him by his almost -distracted father; and at last a reward was offered in the newspapers -for any information concerning him. The pilot who had left him wounded -with the pirates, now came forward, and related the circumstances under -which he and Fitzgerald had parted company. Fitzgerald’s father, an aged -man of great wealth, and who had no other child to attract his love, now -insisted upon Colonel Howard’s proceeding to ransom his son. Mary, whose -health was rapidly declining, was directed by her physician to perform a -sea voyage, and thus father and daughter were induced to brave the -dangers of that sea, whose waves teemed with freebooters, and whose -isles flashed with cutlasses and boarding-pikes. - -The Rosalie had agreed, for a great sum of money, to land the Howards at -New Providence: and then proceed on to New Orleans, her port of final -destination. Once landed, they were to trust to opportunity for the -means of transportation to their native land. - -The norther brought them together as before related; and the warring -elements of nature produced a reconciliation between the lovers. - -Fitzgerald, when Mary had ceased speaking, raised his head. He had been -singularly agitated during her narrative; he now calmly opened his soul -to her. He kept nothing back; the catalogue of offences detailed to her -was an exact copy of the dark list that had been registered against his -name above. Twice she started as though an adder had stung her; but when -he informed her that his hand had never been stained with blood; and -that he had never appropriated to himself a dollar of the ill-gotten -wealth, she breathed freer, and as he concluded, a smile lit up her -heavenly countenance. - -“Maurice,” said she, “I believe you—you have made a false move in life: -and I have been the innocent cause of it. It is not too late to repair -it—you must leave this bloody craft at the first port you make—the -busy times—the deeds of blood—the privateering and the blustering of -war will cover all, and in our little village we can peacefully linger -out our lives, and rejoice that the day of our sorrow is over.” - -Colonel Howard now entered the cabin. He approved of the plan suggested, -and Fitzgerald joyfully consented to its being carried into execution. - -The next day the brig made the land. The passengers of the foundered -ship were immediately sent on shore, with the exception of Colonel -Howard and his daughter; and upon the return of the last boat a letter -of thanks, signed by the passengers, with a draft for ten thousand -dollars, was handed to Fitzgerald. - -He immediately sent an officer in disguise to New Orleans to get the -money; and at twelve o’clock, accompanied by the Howards, left the King -Fisher. He had left a letter in his signal book to the next in command, -surrendering up the brig, renouncing the service of the bucaniers, and -giving his portion of the spoils to the crew. His necessary clothing he -had packed with Colonel Howard’s. Upon reaching the shore, he bade the -officer of the boat to inform the second in command that he should be -absent for a few days, and that if he found it necessary to move his -berth he would find instructions for his guidance in his signal book. A -house was near at hand, the little party soon changed their apparel, and -procuring a conveyance, proceeded to a little village on the other side -of the island, whence in a fast sailing clipper they stretched over to -Pensacola. Having shaved off his ferocious whiskers and his long -soap-locks, which gave him the appearance of a nondescript animal, -somewhere between a man and a monkey, he dressed himself in the sober -attire of a citizen of this glorious republic, and in company with his -kind uncle and much loved cousin, proceeded by land to Belleview. - -On the arrival of the party at the homestead, the fortunate Fitzgerald -became the husband of the true-hearted Mary; and old Fitzgerald and -Colonel Howard danced a hop waltz together, gout and all, on the -occasion. The wedding broke up at a late hour, and old Fitzgerald went -to bed tipsy, very much to the scandal of a total abstinence society, of -which he was an honorary member. - -Fitzgerald and his domestic wife settled down upon the homestead, and in -a few months Colonel Howard and Major Fitzgerald were called to the -dread muster of the dead. - -The property of the old, now became the property of the young; and the -broad lands and splendid mansion of Maurice Fitzgerald became the envy -and the pride of the village. - -Of the King Fisher nothing was heard until after the war, when she was -found rotting upon a mud bank, near the place where her commander left -her. Her crew had deserted her, and the gallant gun brig never ploughed -the ocean furrow more. - - Washington, November, 1840. - - * * * * * - - - - - THE WATERS OF LETHE. - - - BY N. C. BROOKS, A. M. - - - Written for one in dejection. - - “Oh, for a cup of the Waters of Lethe.” _Letter of a Friend._ - - Come, Peri, from the well, - Where cooling waters steep - The soul that’s bound by memory’s spell - In soft oblivion’s sleep. - The lethean power diffuse; - I could not wake again: - Pour o’er my heart its balmy dews, - And on my burning brain. - - The plighted hopes of youth— - The perished joys of years— - Affections withered—slighted truth— - The sunlight dashed with tears— - The cloud, the storm, the strife, - I would recall no more, - And all the bitterness of life; - The lethean goblet pour! - - Remembered tones of old— - Of friends in quiet sleep, - Make other eyes and tones seem cold, - And bid the lonely weep; - Come then, Oblivion, seal - All memory as I drink; - This tortured heart would cease to feel, - This fevered brain to think. - - Baltimore, November, 1840. - - * * * * * - - - - - YOO-TI-HU. - - - BY J. ROSS BROWNE. - - - I. The Consultation. - -Yoo-ti-hu, the handsomest and sprightliest Page in the suite of -Pokatoka, King of Gazaret, imprudently fell in love with Omanea, the -flower of the king’s harem. Pokatoka, though sadly afflicted with -rheumatism, was partial to the amusements of the harem. It happened that -he had a slight suspicion of Yoo-ti-hu’s integrity, and this rendered -him perfectly miserable. Tally-yang-sang, Great Nazir, or Chamberlain of -the Harem, was sent for. - -“Mirror of Vigilance,—Quintessence of Piety,—and Disciple of -Wisdom,”—such were the Grand Nazir’s titles, and so the king addressed -him.—“Well we know thy skill in affairs of the heart. Well we know thy -penetration is never at fault. We have required thy presence to demand -if thou hast noticed anything peculiar in the conduct of our peerless -Omanea, since the addition of Yoo-ti-hu to our suite?” - -“There is a lone dove,” replied the Grand Nazir, in his own mysterious -way, “whose nest is in the grove of love. Even as this emblem of -tenderness awaits the coming of a prisoned mate, so pines in secret my -lady Omanea.” - -“And by whom think you, wondrous Tally-yang-sang, is this change -effected?” - -“Your mightiness would scarcely thank me if I made known my suspicions, -since they implicate your greatest favorite.” - -“Ha! ’tis Yoo-ti-hu! I thought so! I knew it!—he shall die.” - -“God is great,” muttered Tally-yang-sang. - -“Let the page’s head be brought to me,” said the king, “as a token of my -displeasure.” - -“With all my heart, sire. I dislike the youth, and your highness shall -be obeyed.” The Grand Nazir bowed very low, and left the audience -chamber. - - - II. The Three Wishes. - -Yoo-ti-hu, being accidentally near, heard what had passed. In the -bitterness of despair, he rushed from the palace, and roamed to a -solitary retreat in the gardens. - -“How miserable am I,” he cried, “to love so hopelessly and so madly. -Grant, oh, inventive genius! that I may evade the vigilance and -persecution of Tally-yang-sang. Grant that the fates may aid me in this -dilemma.” - -“Yoo-ti-hu,” said a voice from the shrubbery, “thou hast incurred my -displeasure; but, nevertheless, since thou art in a dangerous situation, -I promise three such things as thou shalt choose.” - -“Verily,” quoth Yoo-ti-hu, “thou art a bountiful genius; and it is a sin -to reject aid from so high a source. Know then, generous spirit, that I -have peculiar occasion for a bow and a quiver of arrows.” - -“A modest request,” observed the Genius, “and fortunately, I have by me -such an one as no living archer ever shot with; for look you this way or -that, such are its virtues, that it will hit the mark exactly in the -centre.” - -“Bless thee a thousand times!” cried Yoo-ti-hu in an ecstacy of joy; -“and since thou art so kind, I fancy I may crave a lute,—with which I -shall be satisfied, were it never so small.” - -“Thou shalt have one, my son, of such exquisite tones, that when the -same is played, all living things shall skip and dance,—so pleasant is -the music.” - -“Delightful!—excellent!” cried Yoo-ti-hu. - -“What next?” said the Genius. - -“Indeed, thou art too good,” replied Yoo-ti-hu; “I am going now to rove -the world as a simple minstrel. I shall live on birds, and amuse myself -with my lute,—so I need nothing more.” - -“But, son, I solemnly swear thou shalt have three things, be they never -so costly.” - -“Well, good Genius, since thou art so kindly disposed, I shall choose an -inexhaustible purse.” - -“The very thing I have in my pocket,” quoth the Genius, and handing the -inexhaustible purse to Yoo-ti-hu, he disappeared immediately. - - - III. Tally-yang-sang in a Plight. - -Yoo-ti-hu seated himself on the steps of a fountain to admire his bow -and his lute. Tally-yang-sang, chancing to roam in the vicinity, espied -the page, whereupon he assumed a very severe countenance, and -approaching the spot, spoke thus: “Yoo-ti-hu, thou art an unfaithful -wretch! Thou hast betrayed the confidence of thy king. Thou hast entered -his harem and stolen the heart of Omanea! Know, then, that I am -commanded to carry him thy head, as a slight token of his displeasure.” - -“Verily, great and worthy nazir,” quoth Yoo-ti-hu, “I can show thee -pleasanter sport than that. Seest thou yon Bird of Paradise, with -plumage more bright than the colors of Iris? Behold, your highness, how -I shall shoot him!” Yoo-ti-hu drew his bow—shut his eyes—and let fly -an arrow. The bird fell quivering among the bushes. Tally-yang-sang was -no less pious than philosophical, and this feat surprised him -exceedingly. With curiosity depicted in his countenance, he walked -forward to where the bird had fallen. - -“A little farther,” said Yoo-ti-hu. - -“Here?” - -“Still farther.” - -“Here, then.” - -“On.” - -“Now?” - -“Yes—there lies the bird. But tell me,” said Yoo-ti-hu, with a boldness -that surprised the Grand Nazir, “dost thou certainly mean to carry my -head to the king?” - -“God is great,” quoth Tally-yang-sang. - -“And Mahommed is his Prophet!” added Yoo-ti-hu; with which he started up -such a tune on his lute, as caused the venerable chamberlain to skip and -dance like one possessed of the devil. - -“The spirit of Ebris seize thee!” roared Tally-yang-sang, capering about -among the bushes, and leaving a strip of skin on every thorn, “the devil -take thee for a musician!” and on he skipped and danced till the tears -ran down his cheeks—the blood streamed from his jagged and scarified -limbs—and his capacious breeches were completely torn from his legs. -Yoo-ti-hu continued the music with unabated ardor. Tally-yang-sang -forgot his orisons and paternosters; and up and down—left hand and -right hand—ladies chain—balancee—reel—jig—and Spanish waltz, danced -the bare-legged amateur, roaring with pain, and uttering horrible -imprecations. - -“God is great?” quoth Yoo-ti-hu. - -“His curse be on thee!” roared Tally-yang-sang. - -“Music hath charms,” said Yoo-ti-hu. - -“Exercise is the staff of life,” philosophised Yoo-ti-hu. - -“Blast it!” shrieked Tally-yang-sang. - -“Piety is pleasant,” moralised Yoo-ti-hu. - -“Damnable!” roared Tally-yang-sang. - -Yoo-ti-hu perceived the vigor departing from the limbs of the Great -Nazir, whereupon he struck up a still livelier air. Tally-yang-sang -curvetted and pranced—whirled hither and thither his bare spindles, and -leaped madly among the thorns. In an agony of pain he cried, “Dear, -gentle Yoo-ti-hu,—I beseech thee to stop!” - -“Verily,” quoth Yoo-ti-hu, “I value my head.” - -“I shall not harm a hair,” groaned Tally-yang-sang. - -“Words are cheap,” said Yoo-ti-hu. - -“But I swear—I solemnly swear!” piteously cried Tally-yang-sang. - -“By what?” - -“By the Prophet!” - -“Nay.” - -“By God himself!” - -“Swear by thy beard!” - -“Never!” - -“Then dance!” - -Another good hour did Tally-yang-sang caper about, roar and blaspheme, -till cruelly excoriated from head to foot. - -“Do you swear?” asked Yoo-ti-hu. - -“I do.” - -“By that which is sacred?” - -“By my beard!” - -In a truly pitiable condition the Grand Nazir limped toward the palace. -Yoo-ti-hu followed—admiring the bandy and scarified legs of the great -Tally-yang-sang, and muttering benedictions on the genius. - - - IV. Yoo-ti-hu in Danger. - -The great rajas, moguls, and lords of Gazaret, belonging to the court of -Pokatoka, had sallied out with the king, to take a stroll in the royal -gardens. - -“Ho!” cried Yptaleen, high master of the festivities, “what fantastic -clown comes hither?” - -“An Egyptian dancer,” quoth the king. - -“A self-punished Musselman,” added a raja. - -“True,” said a grand mogul, “for behind him walks his koran bearer.” - -“Rather a shia with his talisman,” observed a lord of Gazaret. - -“Or a sooni,” whispered a pious Mohammedan. - -“A blood-stained spirit of Ebris,” remarked a famous Astrologer. - -“Hush!” exclaimed Yptaleen, “by all that is terrible!—by monkin and -nakir! ’tis Tally-yang-sang, grand nazir of the harem!” - -And Tally-yang-sang it was, whose woeful figure approached the pageant. - -“Mirror of Piety!” cried the king, “what means this outlandish freak? -Methinks it ill becomes thee to tramp about, bare-legged and bloody, -after this fashion. Propriety of conduct, and delicacy, should -distinguish a master of the harem; and I much regret that thou hast -infringed, not only on these, but on the laws of decency.” - -“Sure, mighty monarch of Gazaret,” replied Tally-yang-sang, wringing his -hands and smiting his breast, “thy page deals with the devil; for, -verily, he hath a lute of such bewitching tones, that, when the same be -played, I could not help skipping and dancing among the bushes till my -bones creaked—my head whirled, and I was flayed and excoriated within -an inch of my life—as your highness may see.” - -“Tally-yang-sang,” said the king gravely, “thy character is -impeached—thou hast spoken of impossibilities; in fact, thou hast -lied.” - -“By all that is solemn, I have spoken the truth,” cried the grand nazir. - -“And nothing but the truth?” - -“As I live!” protested Tally-yang-sang. - -“Then Yoo-ti-hu shall lose his head.” - -“Nay,—I have sworn on my beard to save it.” - -“Generous Tally-yang-sang!” cried Pokatoka, “thou art too lenient of -offence. Nevertheless, Yoo-ti-hu shall be punished.” - -“Certainly,” said Tally-yang-sang, “it was my design to have him -decently flayed to death.” - -“Which shall be done,” quoth the king, “if thou provest the offence.” - -Without further delay the bare-legged and excoriated Tally-yang-sang led -the way to the palace; and caliphs, rajas, moguls and lords of Gazaret, -followed admiringly in the rear. - - - V. The Trial and its Effects. - -The grand council-chamber of the palace was presently crowded with -courtiers, officers of the guard, sicaries, mandarins, and pashas,—at -the head of whom, seated by his queen, and attended by a magnificent -suite of pages sat Pokatoka, King of Gazaret. At a desk, immediately -under the throne, sat a venerable Arabian writer, versed in -hieroglyphics, and ready to take the minutes of the whole proceedings. -Ranged around, stood a number of beautiful Circassians, Georgians, -Nubians, and Abyssinians—slaves and witnesses from the king’s harem; -but the diamond of these gems was Omanea, arraigned on charge of having -unlawfully bestowed her heart on Yoo-ti-hu. The fact is, Tally-yang-sang -was determined that the lovers should both be condemned, and had thus -prepared matters for the prosecution. In order to establish the truth of -his charge, he remained—much to the edification of the young slaves by -whom he was surrounded—in the same plight in which the king had met -him. - -“Quintessence of piety and disciple of wisdom,” said the king, “proceed -with thy charge.” - -“Know then, courtiers, rajas, mandarins and officers of the guard,” -quoth Tally-yang-sang, “that Yoo-ti-hu hath stolen the heart of Omanea, -and that his highness, the king, commanded me to rid the offender of his -head. This very evening I roamed in the royal gardens, meditating on the -most agreeable plans of decapitation, when I espied the wicked -Yoo-ti-hu. Having lured me into a horrid bush, he struck up a tune on -his lute—the infernal strains of which caused me to dance till I was -fairly torn to shreds—as you all may perceive. Then—” - -“Stop there!” cried Pokatoka, “this story of the lute must be -established ere you proceed farther.” - -“I solemnly beseech your mightiness to take my word,” groaned -Tally-yang-sang, eyeing the lute with horror,—“Do, Great King of -Gazaret! and the blessings of heaven be on thee!” - -“Nay,” cried the king, “we must have a fair and impartial investigation. -Yoo-ti-hu, thou art commanded on pain of loosing thy head to strike us a -tune on thy lute!” - -“For God’s sake,” implored the grand nazir, “since ye must hear it, I -pray and beseech ye to bind me to a post.” - -Exactly in the middle of the court stood a post, ornamented with divers -beautiful designs, carved in wood and in gold; and to this was the -chamberlain firmly tied. - -“Truth is mighty,” quoth the king, “and will out. So proceed Yoo-ti-hu, -in the name of God and Mahommed, his Prophet!” - -Yoo-ti-hu forthwith struck up his liveliest air; and lords, rajas, and -moguls; sages, philosophers and mamelukes; officers of the guard, -sicaries and mandarins; slaves, young and lovely, and old and ugly; -disciples of Mahommed; priests, friars, saints and heretics; pages, -trainbearers, and virgins of incense—sprang to their feet and danced -hither and thither—hornpipe, jig and merry reel—in such glee and -confusion as were never heard of before or since. The venerable writer -had leaped from the desk—the decrepit Pokatoka from his throne; the -sharp-featured old queen from her chair of dignity and joined in the -general melee. But the groans of the gouty—the blasphemies of the -pious—the laughter of the young—and the remonstrances of the sage, -were all drowned in the lusty roars of Tally-yang-sang, who cruelly -bruised his head against the post in trying to beat time—tore the live -flesh from his back so eager was he to dance—and uttered a horrid -imprecation at every ornament on the post. - -“Yoo-ti-hu! Yoo-ti-hu!” cried the breathless Pokatoka. - -“Yoo-ti-hu!” screamed the dancing queen. - -“Yoo-ti-hu! Yoo-ti-hu!” was echoed and re-echoed around by the nobles -and courtiers; and to and fro they skipped, as Yoo-ti-hu plied his -merriest tunes—the floor groaning—the perspiration streaming from -their cheeks; and their breath failing at every jump. - -“Dear, pleasant, Yoo-ti-hu,” cried the king, in the heat of a Spanish -jig, “I do beseech thee to stop.” - -“A thousand seguins for silence!” groaned a gouty raja, prancing high -and low in a German waltz. - -“I am shamed—disgraced forever!” muttered an Arabian astrologer, in the -middle of a Scotch reel. - -“Yoo-ti-hu—the devil seize thee!” shouted a pious Musselman. - -“Have mercy!” cried a blasphemous heretic. - -“Mercy! mercy!” echoed the dancers one and all—“Do, gentle Yoo-ti-hu, -have mercy, and cease thy accursed music!” - -“Pardon him! pardon him!” roared the magnanimous Tally-yang-sang—his -ribs rattling frightfully against the post; “in the name of the prophet -pardon him ere I bruise myself into an Egyptian mummy!” - -“Yoo-ti-hu cease! thou art pardoned!” cried the king, in a piteous tone, -“my seal—my life on it thou shall not be harmed!” - -“Very well,” said Yoo-ti-hu, still striking his lute; “but I must have -Omanea as a bride.” - -“Thou shalt have her!—take her!—she is thine!” shouted the rheumatic -monarch. - -“Thy oath on it,” quoth Yoo-ti-hu. - -“By all that’s sacred—by my beard she is thine!” - -Yoo-ti-hu ceased—the dancers, groaning and breathless, returned to -their seats—the grand nazir was taken from the post in a pitiable -plight—and the pious Musselman ejaculated—“God is great!” - - * * * * * - -An Arabian historian says that Yoo-ti-hu having espoused Omanea, carried -his bride to the kingdom of Bucharia, of which, in the course of time, -he became the king; and with his inexhaustible purse built a palace of -gold, wherein he reigned for half a century, the mirror of monarchy, and -the admiration of mankind. - - Louisville, Kentucky, December 14, 1840. - - * * * * * - - - - - LEAVES FROM A LAWYER’S PORT-FOLIO. - - - THE AVENGER. - - - “Slave, I have set my life upon a cast, - And I will stand the hazard of the die.” - _Shakspeare._ - -“I feel that I am dying,” exclaimed the sick man, gazing wistfully -toward the window, “and it seems good to me that it should be so. Lift -me up a little that I may look upon this April morn, and throw back the -curtains that I may feel the sweet breath of heaven once more upon my -brow,—there, that will do, God bless you all.” - -The speaker was in the last stage of his disease. His eye was sunken, -his voice was feeble, his lips were bloodless, his emaciated fingers -looked like talons, and his originally handsome countenance, now hollow, -pale, and ghastly, seemed already as the face of a corpse. At times his -features would twitch convulsively. He breathed quick and heavily. - -The balmy air of a spring morning stealing soothingly across his -forehead, and tossing his long dark locks wantonly about, appeared for a -while to kindle up the fading energies of the dying man, and turning -with a faint smile toward me, he said, - -“I promised you my history, did I not? Well, I will tell it now, for I -feel my sands are running low, and the cistern will soon be broken at -the fountain. I have no time to lose; move nigher, for my voice is weak. -Put that glass of wine close at your elbow,—I shall want my lips -moistened, for my tale is long. - -“Do you know what it is to be young? Ah! who does not? Youth is the -heaven of our existence. Every thing then is full of poetry. It is the -time for love, and song, and more than all for hope. This glorious -morning is a type of our youth. The birds sing sweeter than ever; the -winds have a music as of heaven; the distant tinkle of the streams is -like a fountain-fall in moonlight, and the whole earth seems as if it -were one cloudless Eden, where life would pass like a dream of sinless -childhood. Poetry! did I say? oh! what is like our youth for that? But -more than all, aye! more than music, or beauty, or even those childish -dreams, is the poetry of a first pure love! I see by your countenance -that you have known what that is. God help me! it has been at once the -bliss and the bane of my existence. - -“I left the University rich, accomplished, and not without academic -fame. My parents were dead, and I had but few relations. Life was before -me where to choose. I had every thing to make me happy, but—will you -believe me?—I was not so. There was a void within me. I longed for -something, and scarcely knew what. It was not for fame, for I had tasted -of that, and turned sickened away; it was not for wealth, for I enjoyed -enough of that to teach me, it would not satisfy my craving; it was -neither fashion nor ease, nor the popularity of a public man; no, from -all these I turned away athirst for higher and loftier things. What -could it be? At length I learned. My life is dated from that moment. - -“It was about a year after I had graduated, when, sick of the world and -its emptiness, I left the city, in early summer for a stroll through the -mountains of the interior. You have often seen the hills of the -Susquehanna: well, I cannot stop to describe them. I was enraptured with -their beauty, and determined to loiter among them until September, and -so dismissing my servant, I took lodgings in a quiet country inn, and -assumed the character of a mountain sportsman. But I delay my story. -Hand me the wine and water. - -“It was on a sporting excursion that I first saw my Isabel! Oh! if ever -the ideal beauty of the ancients, or the dreams we have in childhood of -angels’ faces, were realised in a human countenance, they were in that -of Isabel. There was a sweetness about it I cannot describe; a purity in -every line which breathed alone of heaven. Do you not believe that the -face is the impress of the mind; that our prevailing thoughts gradually -stamp themselves on our countenances, and that the sinless child and the -haggard felon alike carry the mark of their characters written upon -their brows? You do. Yes! God branded Cain as a murderer, but it was -only the brand of his wild, terrible, agonising remorse. - -“From the first moment of my seeing Isabel, I felt that I had met with -that for which I had so long sought. The void in my bosom was satisfied. -I had found something holier and brighter than I had deemed earth could -give birth to, and I almost worshipped the ground where she trod. I -loved her with all the poetry and fervor of a first love. She did not -seem to me like others of her sex. There was a holiness cast around her -like the mantle of a seraph, which awed the beholder into a reverential -love. And oh! what bliss it was to gaze upon her face, to hear her -lute-like voice, and to feel that I breathed the same air with herself. - -“Isabel was the daughter of a village clergyman, who had been poor -without being dependent. Her mother had been dead for many years; and -her father had followed his wife but a few months before I first met -Isabel. - -“How could I help loving such a being? Wealth to me was no object: I -looked not for it in a bride. I sought for one in whom I might confide -every thought, and in finding Isabel my happiness was complete. - -“Why should I delay telling the story of my love? Day after day found me -at the cottage of Isabel, and day after day I grew more enraptured with -her artlessness. Together we read in the mornings; and together we -wandered out amidst the beautiful scenery around; and together we sat in -the still evening twilight, when my greatest pleasure was to hear her -sing some of those simple little lays of which her memory preserved such -a store. Ah! those were happy hours,—hours, alas! which can never come -again. From such meetings I would loiter home beneath the summer moon, -with a thousand bright and joyous, yet undefined feelings, thrilling on -every nerve of my frame. And often, as I turned to take a last look at -the little white cottage, embowered in its trees, I thought I could -detect the form of Isabel, standing where I left her as if she still -followed me with her eye. - -“It was not long before I declared my love to Isabel, and found that it -was returned with all the fervor and purity of her guileless heart. Oh! -with what rapturous emotions did I hear the first confession of her -sentiments—with what delight did I clasp her hand in mine, as her head -lay upon my bosom—what tumultuous feelings thrilled my soul, as her -dark eyes looked up into my own, with all that purity and depth of -affection which tell that the soul of the gazer is in the look. - -“Well, we were married. It was that season of the year in which all -nature puts on her autumn glory, and when hill and plain and valley are -clothed with a garmenture as of a brighter world. The corn was yellowed -for the harvest; the wild flowers were fading from the hill-sides; the -grapes hung down in purple clusters from the old, twisted vines in the -woods; and the birds, that had been used to sing for us, in every grove, -were one by one disappearing, as they took flight for the sunny south. -But could I miss their music while Isabel was by to whisper in her fairy -voice, or cheer me with her low and witching minstrelsy? Was I not -happy—wholly, supremely happy? It was as if I dwelt in an enchanted -land. I forgot, almost, that I was a member of society; saw but little -company; and spent the day with Isabel in rambling around the mountain, -or when confined by the weather to the house, in a thousand little -fireside amusements. We talked of the past, of our plans for the future, -of the hollowness of the great world without, and of that mutual love -for each other which we felt could not be eradicated by the power of a -universe. Isabel was all I had imagined her in my fondest moments. Like -myself, she turned away from the companionship of a selfish world, and -sought only to spend life afar from human strife, secure in the -possession of the one she loved. Alas! little did she think that the -thunder-cloud was hanging, dark and lowering, above us, which would -eventually burst, and bring ruin on our unsheltered heads. - -“We saw but little company, I have remarked; but among that little was -one with whom, as subsequent events developed, my destiny was -inextricably woven. He was an old classmate in the University, whom I -had casually met at the neighboring county-town; where he resided in the -capacity of a medical man. Our former intimacy was revived; for Robert -Conway was really a fascinating man. It was not long before he became -intimate with our little family, and, seduced by his plausible demeanor, -I not only engaged him as my family physician, but entrusted him with -the nearest and dearest secrets of my heart. I felt the warmest -friendship for him, and, next to Isabel, there was no one for whom I -would have done so much. I have told you of the poetic nature of my -character; you may have also noticed its warmth; and, in the present -instance, believing I had found a really disinterested friend, I was -hurried away into an infatuation from which I awoke only to find that I -had clasped an adder to my bosom, and that—oh! my God—all my hopes of -life were blasted forever. - -“The winter had already set in, when I received a short letter from my -town agent, requesting my immediate presence in the city on business of -the last importance to my fortune. As Isabel was in a weak state of -health, and would not be able to accompany me, I returned an answer, -stating my inability to comply with the summons, and declaring my -willingness to suffer even some pecuniary loss, rather than leave her at -that time. - -“In less than a fortnight, however, I received a still more pressing -letter from my correspondent, declaring that my absence had already -prejudiced my fortune, and that nothing but my personal presence could, -in the then distracted state of monetary affairs, preserve myself from -beggary. This was an appeal which, for Isabel’s sake, I could not -resist. That the being whom I loved above myself should be subjected to -the miseries of poverty, was a supposition too harrowing to entertain. - -“Never shall I forget the eve of the morning on which I departed. It was -one of surpassing beauty. The landscape without was covered with a -mantle of snow, and the trees were laden with icicles spangled in the -star-light. The heavens were without a cloud, and the innumerable worlds -above, glittered on the blue expanse like jewels on the mantle of a -king. It was, in short, one of those clear, cold nights in early -February, when the very ringing of a sleigh-bell can be heard for miles -across the still expanse of the landscape. - -“As Isabel and I stood looking through the casement at the brilliancy of -the starry hosts on high, a melancholy foreboding suddenly shot across -my mind that we were parting to meet no more. I know not how it was, but -the same feeling pervaded the thoughts of Isabel; for as a meteor-star -darted across the sky, and instantly disappeared, she heaved a sigh, -and, turning toward me, said, as she leaned upon my arm, and gazed -confidingly up into my face,— - -“‘Do you know, George, that, during all the evening I have been tortured -with a foreboding that our happiness is destined, like yonder -shooting-star, to last only for a while, and then pass away forever? It -may be that this is our last evening. I cannot tell in what shape the -impending evil will come,’ she said, ‘but this I know, that be it what -it may, we shall always love each other, shall we not, George?’ - -“‘Yes, dearest!’ I replied, kissing her, ‘but dismiss these gloomy -thoughts; they arise only from your ill-health. Believe me, we shall -continue for long, long years to enjoy our present felicity.’ Ah! me, -little did my own feelings coincide with what I said. ‘Cheer up, -dearest, I shall return in a fortnight or so, and by that time shall be -able to assure you that I shall leave you no more.’ - -“With words like these I attempted to remove the forebodings of Isabel, -but though she smiled faintly in return, I found that I could not wholly -dispel the melancholy of her thoughts. I dreaded the parting on the -morrow, and accordingly, having deceived her as to the hour of my -setting forth, I rose at day-break, kissed her as she lay calmly -sleeping, and, tearing myself from her, entered the mail-stage, and -before the hour when we usually arose, was miles away from our -habitation. - -“I reached the city, and found my fortune, indeed, trembling on the -verge of ruin. For some days its preservation engaged every faculty of -my mind, and I found time for nothing else, unless it was to read and -answer the letters I daily received from my sweet wife. The times were -critical. Stocks of every kind—and nearly my whole fortune was vested -in them—were undergoing a fearful depreciation; and one or two heavy -loans which had been made out of my estate, and which completed the -balance of my wealth, were in a most precarious situation. I soon found -it would not only be impossible to settle my affairs so as to rejoin -Isabel at the end of the fortnight, but that I must undertake a journey, -personally, to a southern city, which would delay me at least a month -more; and, accordingly, I penned a hasty note to her on the eve of my -setting out, bidding her look forward, at the expiration of this new -term, to a happy meeting, and informing her at what post-towns I should -look for letters from her. - -“I set forth on the ensuing day, but, though I enquired at the various -post-offices along my route, where I expected letters, yet I did not -receive a line from Isabel; and the first epistle which I obtained was a -letter which I found lying for me, on my arrival at the port of my -destination. It had come from P——, and was written prior to Isabel’s -knowledge of my second journey. I have it still by me; every line of it -is graven on my heart; my only prayer is that it may be buried with me, -for alas!—it is the last letter I ever received from Isabel. - -“As day after day rolled by without receiving any intelligence from her, -I grew more and more uneasy, until, as the term of my absence drew -toward a close, my sensations approached to agony. A few disappointments -I had borne with fortitude, if not with calmness, for I knew that the -mail was not always regular; but when days grew into weeks, and weeks -had almost grown into months, without the arrival of a single line from -Isabel, either directly from our residence, or indirectly by the way of -P——, nay fears grew insupportable. I was like Prometheus chained to a -rock, and subject to a torture from which there was no escape. At length -I could endure it no longer, but hastily bringing my business to a -close, even at a considerable sacrifice, I set out by rapid journeys -toward my home, without even passing by P——, such was my eagerness to -know what could have been the cause of Isabel’s silence. - -“It was on an evening in the latter part of the month of March, when my -jaded horses drew up before the gate of my dwelling. Hastily alighting, -I entered the little lawn, and was soon at my long-sought-for threshold. -But I started back at the sight that met my eyes. The windows were dark -and cheerless; the grass was covered with leaves and broken twigs; the -knobs upon the door were soiled for want of burnishing; and everything -around wore that appearance of loneliness and desolation which marks an -uninhabited house. With a fainting heart I lifted the knocker. The -sounds echoed with hollow distinctness through the house; but no one -replied to the summons. Again and again I repeated it; and again and -again I was unsuccessful. With a heart wild with the most terrible fears -I passed to the back part of the house; but there, too, I found the same -silence and desolation. It was like the house of the dead. Unable longer -to contain myself I rushed back to my carriage, and with an air that -made the coachman believe me insane, ordered him to drive to a -neighboring farm-house. - -“‘Who’s there?’ asked a female voice from inside of the cottage, in -answer to my impetuous knock. - -“‘I, madam, do you not know me? But where, in heaven’s name, is Isabel? -where is my wife?’ I exclaimed, seeing by the astonished looks of the -woman, that she, too, believed me out of my senses, ‘what is the matter -at my house, that I find it closed?’ - -“‘Oh! la,’ answered the woman, curtseying as she held the candle to my -face, ‘you are the gentleman that lived at the big house nigh to the -stage-road, across the creek. Gracious me! how wild you look. But, sit -down, sir; we ain’t very nice just now, for baby’s sick, and we can’t -afford help—’ - -“‘Woman,’ I exclaimed, vehemently interrupting her, and seizing her -fiercely by the arm, ‘in God’s name tell me all. Answer me at once—is -my wife dead?’ and though my voice grew husky, it trembled not, as I put -the fearful question. - -“‘Dead! why indeed I don’t know, sir,’ she answered, tremblingly, awed -by my wild demeanor, ‘for it’s been nigh a month since she left here to -join her husband.’ - -“‘To join _me_!’ - -“‘Yes, sir. Why didn’t you,’ she asked, perceiving surprise in every -feature of my countenance, ‘write for her? The neighbors all say so, and -Dr. Conway went to see her safe to town; though it’s queer, now, since I -think on’t, that he ain’t got back agin by this time.’ - -“‘My God,’ I exclaimed, staggering back, as a fearful suspicion flashed -across my mind, ‘was I reserved for this? Oh! Isabel, Isabel—’ But I -could say no more. My brain reeled; my temples throbbed to bursting; a -strange, swimming sensation was in my ears; every thing appeared to -whirl around and around me; and, losing all consciousness, I fell back, -senseless, on the floor. - -“When I recovered my recollection, I was leaning against the bed, and a -group, composed of the woman to whom I had been speaking, her husband, -and a farm boy, stood around me. My cravat was untied, and my brow was -wet with water. - -“‘My good woman,’ I said faintly, ‘I feel better now. Go on with your -story; I can bear to hear the worst. God help me, though,’ I continued, -placing my hand upon my forehead, ‘it has well nigh drove me mad.’ - -“She had, however, but little to tell, beyond what I knew already. But -her husband added, that after my departure, he had noticed that not a -day passed without his seeing the vehicle of Dr. Conway in front of my -house; and that, too, long after the returning health of my wife -rendered professional visits unnecessary. He had thought, he said, it -singular, but, as he was not given to gossip, he had kept silence. About -a month since, he added, the house had been shut up, and, under pretence -of rejoining me, Isabel had set out, no one knew whither, with my old -classmate. - -“Oh! who can tell the feelings that, during this recital, and for days -after, raged in my bosom? The evidence was unquestionable, irresistible, -damning in its character. And yet I could not—though every one else -did—believe Isabel to be guilty. She was too pure, too artless, too -ardently attached to me. But, then again, how could I resist the -testimony staring me in the face? The visits of Conway; his fascinating -manners; the false report of my having written for her; and her flight -with the seducer, no one knew whither, were circumstances which my -reason could not answer, whatever my assurance of her love might -persuade me. Who knows not the pangs, the torments of uncertainty? And -day after day, while my enquiries of the fugitives were being pushed in -every quarter, did I fluctuate between a confidence in Isabel’s purity, -and the most fearful suspicions of her faith. It was a terrible -struggle, that one in her favor. But at length, as every successive -informant brought new proofs of her infidelity, I settled down into the -agonising belief of her ruin. - -“Yet I did not give up my pursuit of the fugitives. No—my God! how -could I forget my shame? The dearest hopes of my heart had been -overthrown, and she, in whom I had trusted as man never before trusted, -had wantonly deserted me—aye! even while my own kisses were still, as -it were, warm upon her cheek. I had sacrificed everything at the shrine -of her love; was this the return my devotedness had met with? What! she -whom I had pressed to my bosom as a wife,—she whom I had made the -incarnation of all ideal loveliness, to be—oh! that I should have to -speak the word—a mere wanton. God of my fathers! was this the destiny -to which I was condemned? - -“I am calmer now. I must hurry on, for my breath is rapidly failing me. -My brow burns: bathe it—there, that will do. And open the window. There -is something in this gentle, balmy breeze, fragrant with a thousand -odors, which calls back the memory of happy days, and almost makes me -weep. God grant that none of you may ever suffer as I have suffered. - -“I pass by three months, three long and weary months, during which I -received no tidings of the fugitives. They had never been in P——; even -my epistle announcing my departure to the south had never been received -by Isabel, but had been sent, with most of the ensuing ones, as a dead -letter to Washington. I traced the fugitives only for a single stage; -there every clue to them was lost. At length I was about giving over in -despair, when chance revealed what I had so long sought for in vain. - -“Did you ever visit an Insane Hospital? You start. Ah! you know nothing -of its horrors unless you have seen your dearest friend writhing beneath -the keeper’s lash, or chained like a felon by his infernal fetters. Do -you understand me? No! the truth is too horrible for you to suspect. -Well, then, it was in visiting one of these loathsome prison-houses that -I saw and recognised, in one of its miserable victims, my own, my lost, -my now suffering Isabel. - -“You need not think that I shall grow phrenzied by this harrowing -recital. I have thought of it too often, and endured subsequent agonies -too great, to suffer myself now to lose my reason in reciting it. But -neither will I dwell upon that awful meeting. Suffice it to say that all -my anger against Isabel departed when I saw her, who had once lain pure -and trusting on my bosom, confined as a maniac, in a public hospital. -Oh! I would give worlds could I shut out that horrid sight. - -“I soon learnt all from the keeper. Isabel had been placed there nearly -_four_ months before, by a woman I instantly recognised from his -description, to be the one I had procured at my marriage to wait upon -Isabel. She had stated that the patient was a half sister, and had left -an address where she might be found. - -“As the rules of the establishment precluded all hope of my removing -Isabel, in spite of my protestations that I was her husband, unless I -brought her pretended relative, to corroborate my account, I was -compelled to rest satisfied with the melancholy pleasure of knowing, -that her disease should receive at my expense, the attention of the best -physicians, and with the renewed hope of discovering her waiting woman, -and thus removing my wife from what I felt was worse than death. Guilty -as she was, she was still my wife, and I could not utterly desert her. - -“I entertained little doubt of discovering this woman, although as might -have been supposed, her address was fictitious. I had, in fact, a means -of finding her out which I did not scruple to adopt. She had been an -English woman, and had often boasted of rich relations across the -Atlantic, to whom in her simple vanity, she one day expected to be -heiress. As I knew that, at most, she could only have connived at my -wife’s disgrace, and as I knew also that money was the touch-stone of -every avenue to her heart, I had no doubt whatever as to the success of -the scheme I intended to put in execution. It was simply this: I caused -an advertisement to be extensively circulated, describing her and her -relationship to her English cousin, and informing her that if she would -apply at a certain office in P——, she would hear of something to her -advantage. The bait took. She came in person; I was instantly sent for, -and confronted her. But to come at once to the conclusion of this part -of my story; she owned, upon my threats, and promises of forgiveness -with a large sum of money if she would confess all, that she could -satisfy every particular as yet unknown to me, of this melancholy -tragedy. - -“She stated, in effect, that Conway, from the first moment he had beheld -Isabel, had entertained a passion for her, which neither the favor he -had received from me, nor her own purity, nor the impassable barriers -against its gratification, had enabled him to conquer. Indeed it is -questionable if he ever cared to do so. Wilful, headstrong, remorseless, -and careless of every thing but the gratification of his desires, he was -perhaps one of the most hardened villains that ever cursed mankind; a -villain the more dangerous, because his fascinating manners enabled him -to wear the guise of virtue, and perpetrate his infamous designs without -suspicion. But in laying himself out to seduce Isabel, he capped the -climax of his villainy. For a long time, however, he only attempted to -gain the good will of Isabel, and to seduce by large presents, her -waiting woman to his side. As yet he had not ventured to breathe a word -of his unholy passion to its object. But my departure opened new hopes. -Flattered and deceived by the attentions paid him by Isabel,—attentions -which I now learned with the wildest joy, were only paid to him because -he was my friend,—he now resolved to make a bold throw in his perilous -game. He knew my writing well. In a word, he forged a letter purporting -to be from me, to Isabel, requesting her to join me in P——, under his -escort; and by these means he placed my unhappy wife wholly in his -power. As she would not travel without her waiting woman, he was forced -to make her his confidant, and purchase her secrecy by large sums of -money. But why linger on this awful history? Demons themselves would -shudder at its relation. I cannot—yes! I must tell it. Repulsed by -Isabel with scorn, when, on the second day, he ventured to declare his -passion, he told her, with the mockery of a fiend, as he pointed to the -lonely inn where they then were, that resistance was useless. -Yes!—here, hold down your ear, closer, let me whisper it only; he used -force; God of heaven, there was none to save her from the monster’s -fangs! - -“There—there—it is over: unhand me I say. But forgive me: I am well -nigh crazed: I know not what I do. Some of that drink. Bless you for -fanning my poor, aching brow; I believe sometimes that I am becoming a -child again. Those tears have relieved me. I am so weak now that they -come involuntarily into my eyes, but time was when it seemed as if they -had been dried up forever at their fountain, and when, in my unutterable -agony, I would have given worlds to weep. - -“I forgot to tell you that I felled that hag to the ground like an ox, -when she told me that fearful tale. I could not help it. A woman! and -stand by merciless! Oh! my God it was too much. - -“And Isabel then was innocent. Aye! it had driven her mad. Oh! I could -have crept on my hands and knees to her feet, for a whole life-time; if -by so doing I could only have won from her forgiveness, for suspecting -for a single moment, her angel purity. But it was not so to be. It was -my fitting punishment. In the inscrutable designs of that Providence, -before whose bar I shall so soon appear, it was decreed that I should -never more see Isabel in the possession of her reason. She died. I had -only time to hurry from that strange recital to behold her last moments. -Never, never shall I forget that sight. - -“She was evidently in the last stage of her malady when I entered the -chamber where she lay; and as she turned her wild, and wasted, but still -beautiful countenance toward me as the door opened, I burst into a flood -of tears, and could scarcely stagger to a seat at her bedside. I -suffered more—will you believe it?—in that moment than I had ever done -before. Our first meeting; our early love; our auspicious union; our -days of after felicity; that long to be remembered night of our -separation; and all the hideous succession of ensuing events whirled -through my brain as if a wild, shadowy phantasmagoria was revolving, -with the swiftness of thought, around me. But more than all my injustice -toward her smote me to the heart. Could I look upon that emaciated face, -in every line of which was stamped sufferings the most extreme, and not -feel its silent though unconscious reproaches? I bent over and kissed -her cheek. As I did so a hot tear-drop fell upon her face. - -“‘Who is it weeps?’ faintly said my dying wife, looking vacantly into my -face, ‘ah! I know you not. You are not him. When will he come, when will -he come?’ she continued, in a plaintive tone, drawing tears from every -eye. She was dreaming still that she awaited my return at our -far-off-home. Thank heaven! all else was forgot. - -“At this moment one of the physicians entered the room. Noiseless as he -was, her quick ear detected his footstep. She turned quickly around: a -look of disappointment stole over her face. She shook her head -mournfully. - -“‘Why don’t he come?’ she murmured, ‘ah! he has forgotten Isabel. Well,’ -she continued, in a tone that almost broke my heart, ‘he may desert me, -but never can I desert him.’ - -“‘Isabel—Isabel,’ I ejaculated, unable longer to contain myself, ‘for -the love of heaven speak not so. Isabel, dear Isabel, do you know me? -Oh! you do. Say, only say you do: one word. Oh! my God, she will never -awake to reason.’ - -“‘Did you talk of Isabel?’ she said, looking inquiringly up into my -face, and for an instant I fancied the light of intellect shone across -those pale, wan features. But alas! if so, it faded like it came. In -another moment her eyes assumed their former vacant, yet sorrowful and -imploring expression, and turning away she began to sing a snatch of an -old song I had taught her in the days of our courtship. - -“It flashed across me that, by singing the following verse, I might -possibly touch a link in her memory, and recall her to reason. I -mentioned it to the physicians. They implored me to do so. I obeyed. - -“‘Who sang that?’ suddenly exclaimed the sufferer, starting half up in -bed, and looking eagerly around, ‘it seems, I do believe, as if it was -the voice of George,’ and lifting up her hand to command silence, she -bent her ear down to catch the sounds. - -“There was not a dry eye in the room. My own tears came fast and thick; -and my utterance became so choked that I could not proceed. - -“The hopes we had again entertained by her sudden question, seemingly so -rational, were the next instant dissipated, by her dropping her hand, -and sinking back upon the pillows, in a state approaching to -insensibility. Need I delay? From that stupor, gradually becoming deeper -and more profound, she never awoke; or rather awoke only in that better -world where she found relief from all her sorrows, and where, if earthly -suffering, or earthly purity can avail aught, she is now one of the -brightest of the redeemed. - -“Ah! you may well shed tears. It were enough to make angels weep, that -death-bed! Night and day, in illness or health, here or in another -continent, that closing scene of her life has been present to me, urging -me on to avenge her wrongs. - -“We buried her. Far away from the spot where she died, amid the green -old hills of her birth, and in the quiet, little church-yard where her -father and mother slept, we laid her down to her rest; and my last -prayer is that I too may be buried there, side and side with that sweet -suffering angel. - -“I was from that moment her Avenger. I sought out her waiting woman -again, and learning from her all the information she could give me -respecting the retreat to which Conway had fled, I set out in his -pursuit. But her information was too scanty to avail me aught. Conway -had left her money enough to bear his victim to P——, and then, alarmed -at the catastrophe, fled she knew not whither. Once or twice since, -however, he had remitted her small sums of money by mail, enjoining on -her continued secrecy. The letters were post-marked New York. - -“Thither I went. But all my enquiries were useless. After a search of a -month I was no nearer to the attainment of my object, than on the day -when I first set forth in pursuit of Conway. - -“But did my zeal abate? How could it when that death-bed scene was -ringing its cry for vengeance night and day in my ears? No. I had stood -beside the grave of Isabel, and vowed to be her Avenger: I had repeated -that vow, night and morning since; and I would spend the last cent of my -fortune, and go to the uttermost end of the earth, but what I would yet -fulfil the oath. - -“At length I obtained a clue to Conway’s retreat. He had sailed from New -York five months before for London, under an assumed name. I now felt -sure of my prey. - -“On my arrival at that vast metropolis, I instituted a cautious enquiry -after his present abode, which I felt certain would ultimately place him -within my grasp. Meantime I began a course of daily practice at a -neighboring pistol-gallery, and soon became so proficient that I could -split a ball, at twelve paces, nine times out of ten, upon the edge of a -knife. Nor did I neglect fencing. I became by constant attention an -invincible swordsman. - -“But months, aye! years elapsed, and still he evaded my grasp. He -hurried from one land to another, under a dozen disguises, but though -delayed by my anxiety to be perfectly certain of the road he had -adopted, I was ever like the blood-hound on his path. Fly where he -would, the AVENGER OF BLOOD was behind him. Thrice he flew to Paris, -once he hurried to Rome, twice he hid himself in the Russian capital, -four times he visited England under different names, two several times -he crossed and re-crossed the Atlantic, and once for nearly a whole -year, during which he went on a voyage to Calcutta, I almost lost sight -of him. But I recovered the clue at his return. Years had only whetted -my appetite for revenge. My determination was when I met him, to goad -him by insult into an honorable encounter, and if this could not be -done, to shoot him in the street like a dog. - -“Fortune favored me at length. It was scarcely a month after his return -from the East Indies, when I learned that three days before he had set -out for Paris. Thither, like the angel of death, I pursued him. - -“It was the second night of my arrival at Paris, when I stepped into a -noted gambling-house in the Rue des ——. The apartment was brilliantly -lighted, and in the ostentatious luxury of its furniture reminded one of -a fairy palace. It was densely crowded. I sauntered up to a table where -they were playing _vingt et un_, and carelessly threw down a guinea upon -the chance. I won. I was about turning indifferently away, when an -individual approached the table, whom, even under his disguise, I -recognised, in a moment, to be Conway. He threw down his stake. At that -instant his eye caught mine. Never had I seen human countenance change -so fearfully as his did during the instant of recognition. It quivered -in every nerve. He turned paler than ashes. I looked at him, for a -moment, sternly and calmly. His eye fell before mine. In an instant, -however, he recovered, in a measure, his equanimity, and turning away -with an air of affected indifference, whistled a careless tune. I -stepped up to him. - -“‘Dr. Conway,’ said I, ‘you are a scoundrel.’ - -“‘Sir, sir,’ stammered the abashed villain in French, affecting not to -know me, ‘you mistake your man. _I_ am Monsieur De Rivers, at your -service.’ - -“‘Monsieur De Rivers then, if you please,’ said I, tauntingly, ‘I -congratulate you on understanding a language which you affect not to be -able to speak.’ The villain crimsoned and was abashed. ‘But think not -you shall thus escape. _You are my man_; and without regard to the name -under which at present you choose to go, I pronounce you again to be a -scoundrel.’ - -“‘I—I,’ stammered Conway, ‘know you not. The gentleman is mad,’ he -said, with a faint smile of contempt, turning to the crowd which had now -gathered around us. A scornful look was the only reply. One of them even -went so far as to say, shrugging his shoulders, - -“‘Sacre—why don’t you fight? Can’t you see the gentleman _means_ to -insult you.’ - -“‘Crazy, did you say, villain?’ I exclaimed, stepping up to Conway, ‘I -am sane enough to see that you are a coward as well as a scoundrel—do -you understand me now?’ and deliberately taking him by the nose, I spat -in his face. - -“‘By God, sir,’ said he, his face blanched with rage, making him, for -one moment, forget his fears, ‘this is too much. I am at your service. -Here is my card. When shall it be?’ - -“‘The sooner the better,’ I hissed in his ear, as he turned to leave the -room. ‘Let it be to-night.’ - -“‘Gentlemen,’ interposed a French officer, whom I knew casually, -approaching us at my beck, ‘this matter had better be settled at once. -Had it not?’ he continued, turning to Conway, or rather to an -acquaintance of his, whom my enemy had singled out from the crowd as we -left the room. - -“‘Yes! let it be at once—here,’ exclaimed Conway, almost foaming with -rage. - -“‘At once then,’ said the two seconds, simultaneously, ‘step this way.’ - -“We followed as they lead; and passing up a staircase before us, we soon -found ourselves in a small, dimly lighted room, about twelve feet -square. - -“‘We shall be free from observation here,’ said my second, as he closed -and double-locked the door. - -“During this brief remark the other officer had been engaged in an -earnest conversation with his principal; and after a silence of some -minutes on our part, he crossed the room, and addressed a few words to -my second. After the other had ceased speaking, he continued silent for -a few minutes. At length, however, he said, - -“‘Well, I will make your proposition;’ and turning to me he continued, -‘I suppose you are scarcely willing to apologise. The demand comes from -your opponent.’ - -“‘Never,’ said I. - -“‘Then the affair must proceed.’ - -“‘Gentlemen,’ said Conway’s second, ‘how do you fight? As you are the -challenged party the choice is with you!’ - -“‘With pistols—at once—in this room,’ answered my second. - -“I observed the cheek of Conway blanch at these words, and his eye -became wild and unsettled. He muttered something about the police, the -possibility of an interruption, and the unseasonableness of the hour. -Even his own second could not restrain an expression of disgust at his -cowardice. - -“‘I can scarcely hold a pistol, much less hit a mark with one,’ -whispered Conway to his second; but in the death-like silence the remark -was heard distinctly throughout the room. - -“‘Sacre,’ muttered the officer addressed, but checking his anger, he -turned around, and asked our party if we should be put up across the -room. - -“‘No,’ said I, ‘Dr. Conway has declared he knows nothing of the use of -the weapon I have chosen. Villain as he is, I do not wish to take -advantage of him. Let us fire across this table,’ said I, touching one -about four feet wide with my foot, ‘or if that will not suit him, we -will cut for the highest card, and the loser shall bare his breast to -the pistol of the other.’ - -“‘My God! do you mean to murder me?’ said Conway, trembling like an -aspen, and scarcely able to articulate. - -“‘Murder you! No, miscreant, though _you_ have murdered one dearer to me -than life—one, whom friendship, if not gratitude should have -preserved—one who now lies in her early grave; while you, for years -since her death, have been insulting man and God by your continued -existence. - -“‘What do you choose?’ asked my second sternly, as soon as I had ceased, -‘it were better for all that this matter should be closed at once.’ - -“‘We cut for the chance,’ said Conway’s second. - -“The cards were brought, shuffled, and placed upon the table. I signed -to Conway to take one. He stepped hurriedly up, and with a trembling -hand, drew. It was a king. A smile of sardonic triumph lighted up every -feature of his countenance. My second looked aghast. Yet, in that -moment, my confidence did not forsake me; not a nerve quivered, as I -advanced proudly to the table and drew my card. _It was an ace._ - -“‘Oh! my God, it is all over,’ almost shrieked the miserable Conway, -flinging his card down in despair, ‘is there no hope?’ he said, turning -wildly to his second, ‘oh! shew me a chance,’ he continued, addressing -me, ‘for my life. Don’t murder me in cold blood. Don’t—don’t—don’t,’ -and he fell on his knees before me, raising his hands imploringly to me, -while the big drops of sweat rolled from his face. - -“‘Take your place across the table,’ said I sternly to him, ‘put a -pistol into his hands. Villain as he is, he is too miserable a coward to -be shot down unresisting—though he would have granted me no such favor -had the chance been his.’ - -“They placed him in his position. No words were spoken. Not many seconds -elapsed before the word was given, and we both fired simultaneously. I -felt a slight, sharp puncture in my side; and I knew I was wounded. But -as the smoke wreathed away from before me, I beheld Conway leap toward -the ceiling convulsively, and fall, the next instant, dead across the -table. He had been shot through the heart. Isabel was AVENGED. - -“I fled from Paris. I reached here, saw you, have adjusted my affairs -under your supervision, and am dying of that wound.” - -Reader, that night he expired. - - D. - - Philadelphia, December, 1840. - - * * * * * - - - - - LANGUAGE OF THE WILD FLOWERS. - - - BY THOMAS DUNN ENGLISH, M. D. - - - _I. Solanum Dulcamara._ Deadly Nightshade. - - DEATH. - - I hear thy step afar— - I see the flashing of thy blade - Out-blazing like a meteor star, - Thine eyes are peering from the shade, - Burning with smouldering flame; - Thy voice is as a woman’s wail, - Thy face is bloodless all and pale, - A mockery to fame. - Thou sportest thee a shad’wy robe— - Thy fingers grasp an air-built globe— - A mighty scorn is on thy lip, - Haught skeleton! - Thy wrath is straining on the slip - Unearthly one! - Fire leaves thy nostrils—plague thy breath; - Fear is thy handmaid—thou art Death! - - Smile not so grimly—though an hour - May find me powerless in thy pow’r, - And subject me to thy control,— - ’Twill be my body—not my soul, - There victor, I defy thee. - For though thou mayest seize my form, - Devote my body to the worm— - And all the grave’s corruption—HE, - The maker both of thee and me, - Decreeth to deny thee - Presumptuous one! all power to inherit, - That portion of his breath which is my spirit. - - - _II. Sambucus Canadensis._ Elder. - - BE COMPASSIONATE. - - The wind blows cold—yon poor, old man - Seeks pity for his woe, - For naught hath he to bear him on, - Though a long, long way to go, - All houseless, homeless, weak and tired, - While friends are far away, - His clothes are tattered—locks are white— - Oh! pity him, I pray. - - His wife is dead—his children gone, - He knoweth not where but far; - The sun’s bright light he seeth not, - Nor light of moon nor star. - For God hath taken sight away, - Hath bent him as you see; - And made his limbs as thin and weak - As those of a withered tree. - - A very little from your wealth, - Some coppers more or few’r— - Will get him a morsel of bread to eat, - And cannot make you poor. - Give alms! the memory will be - A balm unto thy heart, - A spring to thy limbs—a sight to thine eye— - And joy to ne’er depart. - - Oh! curl not thy proud lip, nor turn - Thy form away in pride; - As _he_ is, _you_ may be e’er long, - When woes of life betide. - Then as a wearied, blasted man, - From door to door you go— - You’ll think with tears of when you scorned - The humble blind man’s woe. - - - _III. Juniperus Virginiana._ Cedar. - - WINTER. - - The winter has come, and the skaters are here - With a falchion of steel - On each manly heel, - To strike the ice with a stroke of fear; - And to make the victim the story tell, - With a voice as clear as a tinkling bell. - - The winter has come, and he howls at the door, - And puffing his cheeks, - He whistles and shrieks,— - A shriek of ill-will to the suffering poor, - That maketh the widow clasp her sons, - And huddle together her shiv’ring ones. - - The winter has come, and the sorrow besides, - And the poor man’s breast - Can know of no rest, - While his life’s troubled torrent onward glides, - But when ’tis exhausted, the poor will share - A place with the rich, and no winter is there. - - Philadelphia, December, 1840. - - * * * * * - - - - - MY PROGENITORS. - - - BY S. W. WHELPLEY, A. M. - - -Mr. Lowman in his treatise on the civil government of the Hebrews, -remarks, that their careful attention to genealogy was a distinguishing -trait in their national policy. From considering the Hebrews who glory -in their descent from the most renowned patriarchs, I was led to reflect -on the probable influence which the same custom would have upon other -nations. Indeed I have often admired the general indifference of mankind -to the names and history of their ancestors; especially considering the -veneration which all men feel for every thing that wears the marks of -antiquity. - -From a few obvious principles I shall endeavor to state the benefits -which I consider would result to mankind from the universal prevalence -of the custom of keeping an exact genealogy in families. It would be a -perpetual source of entertainment and pleasure. Who would not feel -gratified to look back upon the line of his ancestors, and see their -names, characters, occupations, place of residence, and time when they -lived? They would also open numerous and extensive sources of friendly -attachment, by closing the ancient alliances of interest, honor, -consanguinity and friendship, which subsisted between our forefathers, -who perhaps fought side by side in battles, ploughed the seas together, -or shared the common danger of exploring and settling new countries. - -Genealogical study would operate as a stimulus to laudable ambition, and -would enkindle a sense of honor. If a man’s ancestors were mean and low, -he would often be struck with the animating thought of raising the -reputation of his race. If they were high and honorable, he would, at -times, be jealous of their honor, and feel strongly prompted to emulate -their virtues. - -Could every man trace back his line, it would level many useless -distinctions; for it would appear, that some who are ostentatious of -their descent and blood, have beggars, bandits, and the humblest -cottagers for whole series of links in their chain. That others who are -now low and indigent, could look back to lords, princes, and monarchs, -who dwelt in “cloud-capt towers and gorgeous palaces.” In fine, it would -appear that the descending line of generations is ever wavering, now -elevated, now depressed. The grandfathers and grandchildren of lords may -have been porters, footpads, or slaves. - -The other evening, while investigating a knotty point, I prosed myself -into a deep sleep, and dreamed out the sequel. It would be better for -many metaphysicians, moral philosophers, and writers of all classes, if -they did the same. - -I thought I was still pondering on the subject of Genealogy, and -considering with what curiosity and pleasure I could look back on the -line of my ancestors to the grand progenitors of our race, when suddenly -there appeared before me a winged fantastic figure, answering in some -measure to the description of Iris. Her flowing robes were of various -and varying colors; her eye was penetrating but never fixed; and her -aspect might be compared to the shade and light wandering over the folds -and margin of a summer cloud. I knew her instantly to be one of the airy -powers that preside over dreams. - -She informed me that she was empowered to give me a view of _my -ancestors_, and bade me attend her. Not knowing whither she intended to -conduct me, or in what form of vision I was to be enwrapt, a chill of -terror and ineffable awe rivetted me to the spot. Turning eastward she -beckoned me with her hand, and with easy volition, we rose to the region -of the clouds. We continued to move with inconceivable speed, till the -Atlantic rolled beneath our feet, and we directly alighted on Plinlimmon -in Wales. - -I was now a little recovered from my surprise, and was delighted to see -_the venerable seat of my forefathers_. I could evidently discern the -meanderings of the Severn and Dee, although by distance diminished to a -thread. Numberless villages and flourishing farms lay extended in -various directions, and I looked with great curiosity over the rocky -hills and blue ridges, where a hardy race of men were once able to -resist the impetuous armies of the Henrys and Edwards. - -Here my conductress presented me with a perspective of most wonderful -powers. It would not only magnify objects to their natural size, but -this it would do even at any assignable distance. Within the external -tube was a sliding barrel, graduated into sixty circles. My guide -informed me that a circle denoted a century, and that when the barrel -was drawn to the first circle, I might look back one century; and so of -all the rest. - -Upon this she drew the barrel to the second circle, and presented me the -instrument, impatient to try its astonishing powers. Looking through it -I saw a face of things entirely new. James the I. had just ascended the -throne of the United Kingdoms. I was looking around to observe the -appearance of the country which had flourished long under the happy -reign of Queen Elizabeth. My guide asked me if I could discern a cottage -at the foot of the mountain. “That,” said she, “is the dwelling of your -ancestors in the male line.” The moment I espied the cottage, which was -low and poor, an aged man came out. His figure was tall and erect—his -head quite gray—his look was grave, forbidding, and shaded with -melancholy. - -My conductress succinctly told me that he had long since buried his -wife, and all his children, excepting one son, who was then at sea—that -his father was killed in battle, and that his grandfather had emigrated -when a youth from Germany. Without further words she took from me the -perspective, and the scene of modern times changed. - -We immediately mounted on the wing, and again moved eastward. As we -passed over London I was not a little gratified by a transient glance of -that majestic city, the noblest in Europe, and most commercial in the -world. The forest of towers, the waters, all white with sails, and the -country all covered with villages, by turns caught my eye; but I -travelled too much in the manner of young noblemen, who take the tour of -Europe, to make very particular remarks; since our route from Plinlimmon -to the banks of the Danube took up but about five minutes. We now stood -on a rising ground, having on our right the city of Presburgh, and on -our left majestically rolled the Danube. The country appeared beautiful, -but I noticed, with regret, various vestiges of tyranny and misery in -the appearance of an abject multitude. - -The fantastic power now drew out the third circle, and looking through -the perspective I beheld a scene in the reign of Maximillian the I. The -comparison was truly at the expense of the present day: a bold and manly -race appeared, in general of larger size and nobler form. Their thoughts -seemed full of freedom, and their general air was martial and -independent. With something that appeared like the first dawn of modern -refinement, there was a strong tinge of unpolished and simple manners. -While I stood in high expectation every moment of seeing another of my -ancient fathers, there appeared a royal personage at the head of a -splendid retinue of chariots and horsemen. It was the emperor -Maximillian himself, who, at that time was at Presburgh, and was on a -party of pleasure that morning on the banks of the Danube. I gazed at -his majesty, who was a man of uncommonly fine presence, and said, how -happy should I be should he prove to be the man I am in quest of. - -My guide soon dashed my hopes, by desiring me to observe the coachman of -the last carriage,—“That,” said she, “is the man!” I began to fear that -my blood - - “Had crept thro’ scoundrels - Since the flood.” - -I observed that I had always understood my ancestors were from Germany, -but never knew till now that they were _coachmen_—she smiled and bade -me not be disheartened. He was a perfect Scythian, and seemed to look -like one of the vilest of the human race; there being not discernible in -his features any sentiments of honor or humanity. “He is,” continued my -guide, “the son of a Tartar by a German mother. His father was one of -the wandering tribes that dwelt, at times, near the Bosphorus in -Circassia, and on the borders of the Caspian sea.” I wanted no more, -but, delivering her perspective, I stepped back into 1840, and was more -than ever struck with the wide difference which the flight of three -centuries had made in one of the most warlike nations of the world. - -Germany! how art thou fallen? Thy councils are divided—thy heroic -spirit fled—thy warriors are become women! I consoled myself, however, -that my father was a German coachman in the fourteenth, and not in the -nineteenth century. - -We rose once more, and passed over rivers, solitudes, morasses, forests, -lakes and mountains, and at length alighted on an eminence near the -mouth of the river Wolga. My guide, not leaving it optional, drew the -glass to the sixth circle. I shivered in every nerve to think that my -forefathers for such a period of years, had lived in the dreary regions -of mental darkness. But could they have been tossed less at random, or -enjoyed a milder sky in any of those countries where Rome had once -displayed her eagle? - -The Wolga is one of the largest rivers in the world. It rises in the -Russian empire, and receiving a multitude of tributary streams, it winds -a course of three thousand miles, and pours an immense volume into the -Caspian sea. Through its whole course, it is said, there is not a -cataract. It rolls majestically, with gentle current, through extensive, -rich and beautiful plains, diffusing every where luxuriant vegetation -and exhaustless abundance. Near the sea, it branches and forms a number -of pleasant and beautiful islands. - -On one of these we stood, and, for a moment, surveyed the romantic -scenery. Near us was a Russian castle and garrison, and the island, -which had been used as a military station since the reign of Peter the -Great, was guarded by strong fortifications, and enriched with an -infinite number of boats and vessels, and defended by ships of war and -gallies. - -I now looked through the glass, which threw me back six hundred years. -How surprising was the change! One half of the island was a forest. The -other half was occupied by a spacious camp, containing innumerable wheel -carriages of singular forms. Before me lay a great army marshalled for -parade. I was struck with their uncommon dress and armor; and presently -more so, by a sight of their council chief, who occupied an elevated -platform, and seemed at that moment engaged in deep consultation. - -At the head three seats were raised above the rest, on which sat three -personages of the greatest dignity. The central one, said my guide, is -none other than Genghis Khan, and in him you behold your ancestor. He is -now holding a council of war, and deliberating on an invasion of China. -But you have little reason to boast of your descent from one who has -destroyed fifty thousand cities. His tyranny and the perfidy of his -queen have roused a conspiracy, which, though it will not destroy him, -will imbitter his future life. Beneath a dark brow his fierce and -jealous eye seemed to dart the fires of glory and valor into every -surrounding breast. Yet he looked like one on whose heart the worm of -care unceasingly preys, and who is inwardly consumed by the fires of -ambition. - -Leaving him, however, to his fate, my guide gave the signal of -departure. We crossed the Caspian sea, and the Circassian mountains. The -dominions of the ancient Medes and now of the Persians, passed beneath -us. In a few moments we alighted on a hill which commanded a view of the -fair and delectable vales of Sheeraz, the most celebrated province in -Persia. Sublime conceptions struck my fancy as we were travelling the -region of the clouds, when I saw stretched out on one side the vast -ridges of Mount Taurus, and far distant on the other, the plains where -Darius and Alexander fought. A sigh rose at the remembrance of the great -cities and powerful empires which once flourished there. - -Before me was the vale of Sheeraz, for many miles in extent. The -surrounding mountains were covered with vines, and widely extended -prospects of rural felicity in that happy region. Innumerable flocks and -herds were scattered over the hills, the shepherds and shepherdesses -looked gay, all nature was blooming, and the Persians, brave, polite, -and elegant in every age, seemed the happiest people upon the face of -the earth. The sun shone with peculiar smiles from the cloudless azure, -and far remote the calm billows of the Persian Gulf, drew a silver line -on the horizon. - -On this hill, said my conductress, once dwelt your ancient fathers. At -this she drew the glass to the twelfth circle, making from the Wolga a -transit of 600, and from this of 1200 years. I looked eagerly through -the prospective, and there arose before me a scene of unspeakable horror -and desolation. An immense horde of barbarians was ravaging and -destroying the whole country. Their faces flashed with fury. They were -swift and fierce as tigers. The villages and hamlets, as far as could be -seen were in flames; heaven was obscured by smoke; age, infancy, -innocence, and beauty, were mingled in indiscriminate slaughter; and -blood poured in all directions. - -They rushed into a house which stood near me, dragged forth its -inhabitants, and cut them in pieces. The parents and the children were -mangled and slain together. A little infant only was left, and that, to -all appearance, by accident. It was flung upon the ground, and lay -wallowing in the blood of its parents, weeping at its fall, although -insensible to its deplorable condition. Behold, said my guide, _your -ancient father_. The existence of numerous generations depends on his -preservation, and from him multitudes shall descend. Astonished at man’s -inexplicable destiny, I gazed, admired, and wept. - -At length a female barbarian came up. She was black, filthy, deformed, -hideously savage, and resembled a harpy. She spied the weeping infant, -and a sensation of humanity stole upon her heart. Kind nature, and -compassion to man, has implanted those heavenly sensibilities in the -rudest and most degenerate of her children. She took up the babe, and -seemed to sooth it. She wiped away its tears and blood, laid it in her -bosom and darted out of sight. The glass dropped from my hand, and I -stood rivetted in silent astonishment. - -That child, resumed my companion, is carried into the bosom of Scythia; -there becomes first a robber, then a chieftain, afterward a sage. His -descendants dwelt at times in India, in the islands, in Tonquin, in -China, in Tartary; and a last issue, as you have seen, was the conqueror -of Asia. O Providence! how unsearchable are thy ways! What beings of -light, what fiends of darkness, are among thy children. O listen to the -fervent aspirations of a worm, and if thine ear is not inexorable, smile -on their destiny. - -As the glass dropped, the modern vale of Sheeraz returned and as soon -vanished. Passing over Palestine, the Levant, Archipelago, Greece and -Italy, our next stand was on the banks of the Tiber, among ruined -monuments of ancient Rome. The remains of arches, towers and temples, -porticos and palaces, where the Cæsars and Scipios once lived, lay -before me. A gloomy grandeur covered the scene with awful solemnity, and -filled my soul with sensations equally sublime and melancholy. - - “There the vile foot of every clown, - Tramples the sons of honor down, - Beggars with awful ashes sport, - And tread the Cæsars to the dirt.” - -My airy governess now drew the glass beyond the eighteenth circle. I -looked through it and beheld Rome at the zenith of her ancient -greatness. A forest of towers covered her seven hills. Never, even in -imagination, had I beheld so grand a scene. Her temples, domes and -structures, rose and expanded on my view, and at once displayed the -glories of that queen of cities. Noble and beautiful villas covered as -far as the eye could see, the banks of the Tiber: and the whole prospect -appeared as though the wealth, the arts, sciences and elegance of the -world, were collected to adorn and beautify the scene. - -In the forum a vast assembly of people were listening to the address of -an orator, who, from his dignified and commanding manner, I took to be -Cicero. My guide assured me it was none else. His attitude, his -gestures, his whole manner, were sublime. He was pleading for Milo. The -occasion had drawn together an innumerable throng of spectators. I -admired the elegance of the criminal: his appearance was firm, heroic, -and great. Pompey was present at the head of a select body of troops. - -I have seen no man in modern times who can bear a comparison with -Pompey. He had the qualities of great men with a dignity peculiar to -himself. - -On high glittered the Roman eagle, and the whole group of objects -appeared with a majesty and resplendence not to be described. The -judges, the criminal, the orator, the general, the nobility of Rome, the -army and the spectators, possessed a grandeur of countenance which might -have induced one to imagine that all the fine and noble countenances in -the world had been collected together. - -After indulging my curiosity for a moment, my guide showed me _my -ancestor_. He was a common soldier, and stood near the general, -appearing to belong to his life guard. He listened with deep attention -to the orator; and at times, roused by the powerful flights of -unrivalled eloquence, seemed to lay his hand upon his sword, ready to -draw it in defence of innocence. - -His descendants, continued my conductress, accompany Trajan in his -expedition into Asia, where, after various turns of fortune, some of -them, as you have seen, settled in the vale of Sheeraz. Here, I must -remark, that I was more interested than I had been before, for, upon -noticing him more particularly, I found him perfectly to resemble my -father in stature, proportions, and countenance. - -The next field of discovery carried me back to the Trojan war. The -celebrated city of Troy, and the Phrygian shores, the fleet and army of -Greece, now engaged my whole attention. I was not a little gratified to -have a glance at a scene which has filled the world with noise, and been -so famous in poetry. Yet I must confess my expectations were not fully -answered. The Grecian chiefs appeared with far less splendor than they -are made to exhibit under the glowing pen of Homer. I liked Ulysses the -best of any of them. He was a sturdy old fellow, and although in -appearance somewhat of a barbarian, yet he was strong, manly, and -sagacious, equally able to ward off as to meet danger. I hoped now my -ambition would be crowned by finding Ulysses among my progenitors. My -guide, however, directly pointed out to me _Thersites_, assuring me that -he was the very man. To save time, I will give a description of him, as -we find it in Pope’s translation of Homer: - - Thersites clamored in the throng, - Loquacious, loud and turbulent of tongue, - Awed by no shame, by no respect controlled, - In scandal busy, in reproaches bold: - His figure such as might his soul proclaim, - One eye was blinking, and one leg was lame, - His mounting shoulders half his breast o’erspread, - Thin hair bestrewed his long mishapen head, - Spleen to mankind his envious heart possessed, - And much he hated _all_ but _most_ the _best_. - -Ugly as Thersites was, I thought it, however, no small honor to be -descended from one of the conquerors of Troy, and I intend at a -convenient time, to consult the ancient critics, to see whether Homer -has not been guilty of detraction in stating the character of Thersites. - -From Troy the genii lead me directly to Mesopotamia, and we halted in -the midst of an extensive morass, a wild and trackless wilderness, -inhabited by noxious reptiles and wild beasts. Presenting me the glass, -she told me to make the best of it as this would be the last -opportunity. Under the eye of the perspective the scene presently -kindled with glowing colors and magnificent prospects. In the midst -wandered a spacious river, the circumjacent grounds, although reclaimed -from their native state, afforded those rural wild and romantic scenes -indicative of the _morning of improvement_ and invention. Thousands of -people appeared busy in building various structures. Many were leisurely -roving in the gardens and groves along the river banks. Contentment and -tranquility smiled, labor went on with cheerfulness, and the orders of -superiors were obeyed with a rude but lofty air of conscious freedom. - -My conductress asked me whether I had yet noticed the _Tower of Babel_? -On which, turning to my right, I saw, not far off, that massive -structure. Its elevated summit rising toward the clouds, seemed indeed -to threaten heaven. I could not but remark how much I had the advantage -of Herodotus and some of the other Greek Philosophers, who viewed that -Tower in a state of decay, and yet gave a most wonderful account of its -greatness. I was now fully sensible that this was the seat of the first -of empires, and was beginning to observe more attentively several -things, when the appearance of some personages, at the head of a troop -of horse, attracted my notice. Two personages of majestic port, followed -by a numerous train, now drew near. Before them the statue of Apollo -Belvidere would have appeared diminutive. - -You see, said my guide, Nimrod and Ham. The former was in the bloom and -vigor of manhood. In his eye the fire of ambition burned, and all his -actions bespoke haughtiness, ostentation and authority. He was the true -and original founder of the science of war and despotism. - -In the appearance of Ham there was something almost more than mortal. -His deportment was grave, thoughtful, and gloomy. His snowy locks fell -over his shoulders which the flight of centuries had not bowed, and his -venerable beard swept a breast where the secrets of wisdom seemed -deposited. But yet his eye was fierce and cruel, and gave sign of his -inward depravity. - -Whilst I was scrutinising to discover marks of consanguinity, my guide -pointed me to a little fellow just by me who was _making brick_. There, -says he, is _your progenitor_. His face was an isosceles triangle; and a -long sharp nose and chin gave him the air of complete originality. He -is, continued she, a true and legitimate offspring of Japhet. And now, -having favored you more than I ever did any other mortal, to give you -complete satisfaction, know, that from Noah to yourself there have been -one hundred generations; and in your line there have been one King, five -Princes, seven Butchers, eight Sages, five Commanders, ten Magicians, -six Pilgrims, fourteen Soldiers, twenty Husbandmen, seventeen Mechanics, -fourteen Sailors, thirteen Shepherds, eleven Beggars, eight -Philosophers, twelve Robbers, ten Hermits, nine Warriors, and one -Author. - -Moreover, some of this illustrious line were present at the confusion of -Babel, at the sack of Troy, the battle of Pharsalia, the destruction of -Palmyra, the burning of fifty thousand cities in India and China, the -defeat of Bajaret, the assassination of Henry the Fourth of France, the -Powder Plot, and many other great events. Here I awoke, and behold! it -was a dream. - -And now the information I would make of the knowledge derived front my -dream, is to publish forthwith an address to all the sons of Adam, -demonstrating the importance of keeping an exact genealogy. The plan of -which address is developed in the following articles. - -I.—The seven subsequent years must be employed in exploring the -generations that are past; and as _I_ should be obliged to go to Wales -and Germany, most of us to Europe and perhaps some to Asia, if not to -Africa, I believe there had better be an armistice; for this business -cannot be accomplished without an universal peace. - -II.—The scheme of Leibnitz of an universal language, might also in that -time or a little more, be matured. For in order to know the fair -Asiatics and Africans, we must certainly have a common language. - -III.—When the scheme is effected, men will see more and more the -importance of improving their race. Upon this discovery a Science will -arise of infinitely greater glory and utility than that of War. Nations -will cross their breed as much as possible; and a wife from India or the -South Sea, will be prized more than a ship-load of silks. - -IV.—Every man who dies without an issue is the _end of a line_. He is -like a thread cut from a weaver’s web, and never joined again, or like a -river that perishes in the sands of Africa, and never reaches the ocean. -The plan contemplated, therefore, will excite in men a universal desire -to propagate their species. Every man will see the folly and criminality -of remaining single, and the horrid impiety of exposing his life in war -before he has tied himself to some future generations. He will view it -as risking the extermination of an endless chain of beings equally -important with himself. And when he has become a parent, he will view it -still more impious to hazard his life in any way, now become necessary -for the preservation and care of his children. - -V.—Thus the _art of killing_, which has been the main business of -nations, will be superceded by that of communicating, preserving and -improving life. And in future generations the names of heroes and -conquerors will be eternized only by their infamy, as crimes are -recorded in law Books, preceded by prohibition and followed by penalty. -The ages of war will be regarded as the period of universal destruction, -or rather as the _period in which the human race had not yet acquired -the use of reason_. Then Philosophers and Philanthropists will be -celebrated, and a man will only be considered as great as he is known to -be _good_. - - December, 1840. - - * * * * * - - - - - A SOLDIER’S THE LAD FOR ME. - - - BY A. M‘MAKIN. - - - There’s a charm in the fame - Of a soldier’s name, - With his colors so gay, and his spirits so light; - At his bold command, - No lass in the land, - Can withhold from his prowess her smile so bright,— - With his nodding plume, and his manners so free, - A soldier—a soldier’s the lad for me. - - At fete or at ball - He is courted by all; - His step is the lightest that trips in the dance, - With his sword on his thigh, - And a smile in his eye, - Each belle doth acknowledge his bow and his glance, - With his nodding plume, and his manners so free, - A soldier—a soldier’s the lad for me. - - When there’s mischief to pay, - He is first in the fray, - Nor blanches when death-shots are falling around, - With a tear for the foe - In the battle laid low, - He sheds not till victory his valor hath crown’d; - With his nodding plume, and his manners so free, - A soldier—a soldier’s the lad for me. - - In his wild bivouac, - With his cup and his sack, - His sweetheart remember’d with heart, and with soul; - To beauty a fill, - And a cheer with a will, - While each comrade to friendship is passing the bowl. - With his nodding plume, and his manners so free, - A soldier—a soldier’s the lad for me. - - Philadelphia, December 20, 1840. - - * * * * * - - - - - THE BLIND GIRL. - - - BY MRS. C. DURANG. - - -“Can nothing induce you to give up the idea of going to the ball -to-night, my dear Maria?” said the anxious Mr. Worthington, “our dear -little one seems quite unwell, and surely the loss, or rather the -exchange of one pleasure for another, can not be so distressing, -particularly when the one is of so evanescent a nature as a rout.” - -“What good could I possibly do the infant?” was the reply to this kind -expostulation of her doting husband; “you know Sarah is quite accustomed -to her, and really I think it ridiculous that you should wish me to stay -home; but lately you seem to rack your brains to contrive what means you -can devise to thwart my wishes: if I ask for anything that will cost the -slightest extra expense, the reply is: ‘we can’t afford it.’ Pray how do -other people afford to live in more style than we do, with less income -than ours?” - -“Unfortunately, they _cannot_ afford it,” said Mr. Worthington; “and we -see the consequences daily. Many of the enormous failures that have -lately occurred, might have been prevented, but for the spirit of -rivalry that fashion has instilled into the families of many of our -merchants and citizens.” - -“So,” said Mrs. Worthington, “because people fail, I am to be deprived -of everything I wish for, and kept at home to see whether the child is -_going_ to be sick. I am sure I have taken every precaution to prevent -its crying after me, for I have carefully covered its eyes every time I -have nursed it since its birth. Nay, I do not let it come into the room -where I am without something thrown over its face, that it may not know -me; so that if I was to remain home to watch it, it would neither be -better nor wiser; nay, it might frighten her to see a strange face.” - -Mr. Worthington paused for some time, confounded by his wife’s unnatural -exultation, and want of affection for her infant, at last he exclaimed, -with considerable sharpness,—“_Have you a heart?_” - -“I _once_ did, and _do still_, possess such an article, notwithstanding -I presume you consider yourself the proprietor.” - -“It must be small indeed,” said Mr. Worthington with a sigh. - -“Large enough for it to admit the whole circle of my friends,” added the -lady. - -“I fear it will soon be untenanted, then,” uttered Mr. Worthington as he -left the room, finding it was impossible to dissuade her from her -purpose, and discovering, too late, the misery of being united to one -whose education had unfitted her for a wife. - -Maria Wilson was an only child. At an early age she was left to the -direction of a mother, whose partiality for her daughter blinded her to -all her errors. The best affections of her heart had been neglected, -their place had been allowed to be usurped by pride, arrogance, and -self-sufficiency. Their means were circumscribed and insufficient to -enable her to shine in the gay world, although her beauty was well -calculated to attract the admiration of those who moved in it, and her -sole ambition seemed to be to gain pre-eminence there, so that when Mr. -Worthington, young, handsome, and rich, offered his hand, it was not -rejected:—he viewed her faults with the fondness of a lover, and -deceived himself into the belief that, once his, he could mould her -disposition to whatever he wished it to be; but, after marriage, she -launched into the vortex of fashionable life with enthusiasm, regardless -of consequences; she was courted and caressed; in vain he entreated, in -vain he expostulated; the wish of her heart was gratified; the goblet of -happiness, as she thought, was at her lips, and she was determined to -quaff it to the dregs; misfortune had not yet taught him to despair, and -hope still upheld him; he looked forward to the time when she would -become a mother, when the bonds of nature would form a fresh tie with -those of affection. But, alas! he was doomed to be disappointed; the -little stranger was viewed as an intruder, whose smile was not allowed -to meet the mother’s eyes; she mourned that the _fashion was past_ for -children to be put out to nurse, and never suffered it to be brought _to -her without its face being covered_, that it would not fret for her -absence. Every request from her husband to avoid unnecessary expenses, -were recorded as evidences of his want of love, or as proofs of a -contracted and narrow disposition. - -She went to the ball,—and, when she returned, her little infant, Adela, -lay at the point of death. For the first time, a pang of regret and -remorse stung her bosom; repentance caused her tears to flow, as she -became a voluntary watcher of its sick bed. Oh! how anxiously did she -endeavor to behold one look from those eyes she had so often concealed -from hers; she feared they were closed never to be opened again. She sat -in silence and despair, endeavoring to catch the sound of that voice -whose plaintive wail she had so often despised, but for two days its -heavy breathing alone reached her ear. - -Providence ordained that it should recover. On the third day it opened -its eyes, those eyes which, for the first time, met those of its mother, -and as she beheld it smile, a beam of newly-kindled affection woke in -her breast; she caressed her child, but it turned from her, and sought -the face it had been accustomed to behold; she endeavored in vain to -gain the affection of the slighted child; it clung to its nurse, Sarah, -who loved her with a mother’s fondness. After many fruitless efforts to -regain the treasure she had lost in her infant’s smiles and love, she -abandoned the attempt, and with the child’s return to health, she -returned to her old routine of levity and frivolity. Unthinking woman! -how little did she reflect what labor of mind, and sacrifice of personal -comfort her husband daily endured. Of what utility was his splendidly -furnished house to him? Surely he merited at least her gratitude, when -it was for her gratification that his hours were passed in his homely -counting-house, where dreariness was banished by the excitement of -business. The wooden chairs, the maps on the wall, the perpetual -almanac, table of interest and foreign exchange, pasted in formal array, -formed a strong contrast to the splendid rooms where the draperied -windows admitted the softened light, which reflected on gilded mirrors, -and carpets, where mingled the colors of the rainbow, to blaze in -beauty; while the rich vases, filled with flowers, rivalling in beauty -the choicest exotics in their hues, would tempt the looker on to believe -it was a paradise. And such it would have been to him in his hours of -relaxation, could he but have secured the affections of his Maria there; -but fashion was the forbidden fruit, and vanity the serpent; they both -proved irresistible; her beauty was the theme of universal admiration; -it was that which first attracted him, when he sought her heart and -hand. But the movements of the heart are imperceptible, its pulsations -are uncontrollable, and it will sometimes appear to vibrate on slight -occasions. Alas! he too late discovered that with hers it was but the -echo of ambition, pride, or vanity that had touched its chords; love had -never been awakened in her bosom. - -As Adela advanced in years, the subject of her education engrossed much -of her father’s thoughts; it was there he felt most severely his wife’s -deficiency of duty. A mother’s watchful care is necessary for her -daughter’s welfare. No one but her can guard the mind, and guide it -through that ideal world, which the youthful imagination creates, and -wherein it wanders, bewildered by false hopes and illusive joys. - -There is no country whose system of female education is free from error. -The elite of England and America select the fashionable boarding schools -for their daughters to finish their studies in; where, unfortunately, -the adornment of the person, and flippancy of manner, often supercede -the adornment of the mind. Can parents reflect that the conclusion of a -female’s education requires _their_ care the _most_, and that the -dashing boldness of manners, too often learned at a fashionable school, -is but the mask which covers ignorance, and bravados out the want of -merit? How much less estimable is the character of such a female than -the modest, timid, but firm being who has received and finished her -education under the watchful guidance of that mother’s eye, whose -anxious glance searches unto the soul of her charge, guarding it from -evils that threaten and too often besiege the senses, till confusion and -desolation leave the fair fabric a monument of ruins for parental -fondness to mourn over. - -In France the convent is selected, in a measure secluded from the -influence of fashion: there the mind is more unfettered by folly, and -becomes prepared to receive necessary instruction. Hence they are more -capable of encountering the vicissitudes of life, and prepared for that -intercourse which French women are allowed in society. Thus their minds -become strengthened; no nation has produced so many celebrated women as -France. - -An English husband condemned for treason will be allowed to linger in -prison, unless the entreaties and petitions of his wife and friends have -sufficient influence to procure his release; if they fail, she sinks -beneath the weight of her misfortunes, and an early grave yields repose -to the bruised spirit: not so with the French woman; it awakens all the -energies of her soul; every effort is made; every stratagem is resorted -to; the prison doors though barred, are still accessible to love, -artifice, and ingenuity, these combined, generally contrive to elude the -vigilance of the keepers; thus Madame Lavalette, Roland, and several -others, have given bright examples of what fortitude, education, and -energy may achieve; thus the Bastille’s dungeons have been insufficient -barriers to the influence of the French women. - -As time passed on, the aspect of Mr. Worthington’s affairs seemed to -become less prosperous; day after day losses occurred, until at last his -bankruptcy served to convince his wife that his admonitions had not been -needless; remorse again visited the unhappy woman; she felt that her -husband’s forbearance had been great; and determined that the neglect of -her first born infant should be amply atoned for, by double attention to -the second, whose birth was now at hand. - -After Mr. Worthington’s bankruptcy, it became necessary that he should -leave his native place, and enter into business where it might prove -more successful; he settled his wife in a small house till he should be -enabled to send for her, and for a short time enjoyed more comfort than -when splendor shone around them; they looked forward with hope and joy -to the time when they would behold a child that would be mutually -attached to each. - -The infant was born; a lovely girl, but alas! its eyes were denied to -see the blessed light of heaven! _It was blind!_ - -The wretched, self-convicted, soul-struck woman dared not complain; -conviction of her errors bowed her spirit to the earth; what would she -not now have given to recall some years of her past life? But it was too -late, and the only resource now left her, was to submit with resignation -to her fate. - -After Mr. Worthington had departed for the Island of Martinque, his wife -had to struggle for the maintenance of her children till he should be -enabled to establish himself in business; she proposed opening a -seminary, and called on some of those friends whose presence had often -enlivened her assemblies, and who had partaken of her hospitality. One -had just sent her children to Mrs. ——, who was all the ton. Another -thought it would be better style to have a governess in the house; and -if she thought she could take the entire charge of the children, she -would have no objection to give her the preference, if she could make -the terms very low; others were “not at home” when she called—while -some more candid than the rest—at once informed her, that any other -occupation would be more suitable to her as her former dislike to -children could not be so easily overcome; among them were those, who -with sneers, regretted the change in her circumstances. - -Thus it is to live in the world without studying human nature. We will -be sure to find nought but disappointments, if we trust to those we meet -in the giddy throng of fashionable assemblies; they are like the fleecy -vapors that float over the blue expanse, their brightness is only the -reflection of the light by which they are surrounded, and their aspect -is as changing. The human family taken in the mass collectively, are -cold and senseless, the philanthropic sensations of the heart are -extinct, and an apathetic illusion usurps the place of the genuine -effusions of benevolence, with which the refined soul overflows when in -its unsophisticated state; it is in the domestic circles that friendship -is found, given, and reciprocated, it is there that the best human -feelings reign monarchs; but in the busy scenes of life, coldness, and -contempt are the answers to an appeal for compassion and humanity. - -With a mind forlorn and desolate, Mrs. Worthington sought consolation -from her children. The cherub smiles of one yielded it; but the early -affections of the other had been blighted by its mother’s neglect, and -it sheltered itself among strangers. It was no longer swayed by the same -gentle passions, but fierce and uncontrolled, they became an ocean of -contending emotions. - -Adela, at the age of sixteen, eloped with a young man, whose worthless -character precluded any chance of felicity for the unhappy girl, and -added to the tortures of the miserable parents: but the winning -softness, and amiable disposition of the sightless Isabella, made ample -amendment for all her mother’s misfortunes. With calmness and -cheerfulness she bore her calamity: “What,” said she, “though darkness -is over those veiled orbs; my _mind’s_ vision sees beyond this world, -the mental light that flashes through the long vista of existence, -gleams with brilliance to direct my course. Why should I sigh to -_behold_ this world? Do I not enjoy the delightful fragrance of the -earth’s flowers, and am I not nourished by its fruits? Do I not possess -the affections of those I love, and has not the philanthropy of man -instructed (us children whose existence is one still night of calm,) in -reading, working, and employing ourselves usefully, so that we feel not -that the light of day is darkened from our view?” - -And truly might it be called useful, for by her efforts she had -supported her mother during a long sickness. The physician, Dr. Morris, -that attended Mrs. Worthington, beheld the beauty of Isabella; respect -and humanity first guided him to the assistance of a lovely, interesting -creature, who deprived of one of the most essential faculties of our -nature, exerted those she still possessed for the support of her mother. -Her progress in music had been so rapid that before she had been two -years under the instruction of one of the directors of the institution -for the Relief of the Blind, she was even enabled to fill the situation -of principal chorister in a church. _That_ respect soon ripened into -love, and she only waited the return of Mr. Worthington to bestow her -hand on one altogether worthy of the amiable girl. - -The many years that passed with Mr. Worthington, wherein all his efforts -proved unsuccessful, finally broke his spirits. Every prospect of -raising his family to their former splendor proved unavailing; the -separation from his wife had not been felt by him as severely as it -would have been, had not her conduct, during the early period of their -marriage, alienated his affections; thus those disappointments, which at -the time he deplored, proved to be mercies, that in the end were as -beneficent as the morning and evening dew which temporises the soil for -the fruits it is hereafter to produce. - -The final blow was yet to come. He had determined on returning to his -native land, and settling in some humble manner of life—when a letter -arrived, informing him that his daughter Adela was not expected to live. -He immediately arranged his affairs, and departed for those shores which -blighted hopes had driven him from in despair. - -The sun was about to set, as Dr. Morris sat by the bedside of the dying -Mrs. Worthington. Isabella knelt by the side of her mother, and breathed -a secret prayer, that the spirit of her parent might be permitted to -remain on this earth till the return of her father. Every knock at the -door for the last three weeks, had awakened in her bosom a throb of -expectation, hoping it might be him. An awful pause ensued, as her last -wish and prayer ascended to heaven; it was interrupted by the heavy -breathing of the sufferer; when a step was heard approaching the door, -it opened, and her father stood there. A shriek from her mother -acquainted her, whose eyes were denied the sight of him, that it was him -to whom she owed her being, that had come. - -“My prayer is heard,” said she, “father let your daughter receive a -second blessing, He who is in heaven, ‘the Father of all,’ has already -blessed me, by your presence. Mother rejoice, our prayers are heard; and -if it is His will that you should soon return to your heavenly home, you -can bear with you the last embrace of him you so wished to see, to be -assured you die with his blessing on your head.” - -“Bless you, my child! bless you, my wife! but there is _one_ that craves -_your_ blessing, Maria, if you have yet the strength: it is indeed, -needed.” He waited not for a reply, but left the room, to which in a few -moments he returned, bearing in his arms the wasted and almost inanimate -form of Adela; the last effort of nature gave almost supernatural -strength to the mother; she caught her child in her arms, they were -folded in one long embrace: the spirits of both departed together. -Heaven! in mercy, veiled the sight of so much misery from Isabella; she -felt that a solemn scene had passed in her presence, but she knew not -the full extent of its horrors. - -It was the last trial Mr. Worthington had to endure. The union of -Isabella with Dr. Morris banished every solicitude; and taught him that -the goodness of God is shown most conspicuous, when by granting those -wishes that seem opposed to _His_, our _folly_, and His _wisdom_ is -manifested. - - December, 1840. - - * * * * * - - - - - TO THE PINE ON THE MOUNTAIN. - - - BY LYDIA JANE PIERSON. - - - Thou giant Pine of patriarchal years, - O’er the rock helm of the stern mountain bending, - As watching yon glad river, which appears - Like a bright dream through bowers of beauty wending. - Mocking thy bleak and solitary pride - With warm and flowery scenes, and soft wings gleaming, - Bright fountains laughing on the mountain’s side, - ’Neath bow’rs of blossom’d vines, profusely streaming. - And sigh’st thou o’er those visions of delight, - As my lone bosom o’er the glowing treasures - Which live in fancy’s realm before my sight, - Mocking my spirit with ideal pleasures? - Or art thou holding converse with the wind, - Waving majestic assent to some story - Of mournful interest, how thy stately kind - Have perish’d from the places of their glory? - Or are ye talking of the noble race - Stately as thou, with the wind’s freedom roaming; - Who o’er these mountains once pursued the chace, - Or stem’d the river at its spring tide foaming? - Oh knew I all the legends of the past! - With life and love, and death and sorrow teeming, - On which thou hast looked down, since first the blast - Play’d with thy plumes, in morning sunlight gleaming. - Thou’st seen the free born hunters of the wild, - Chasing the fleet deer in his antler’d glory; - Or with his chosen maid, rich nature’s child, - Breathing in whispers love’s ungarnish’d story. - And thou hast seen him on the mountain path, - Victor and vanquish’d, fleeing and pursuing, - Conquer’d and writhing with vindictive wrath, - Or agonising o’er his nation’s ruin. - While the fierce conqueror gaz’d with gloating eye - On mangled forms, in mortal anguish lying; - Or where the wigwam’s flame was wreathing high, - Showing its inmates, wild with terror flying. - Seemed he not king-like, with his plumy crown, - And like a tiger, streak’d with hideous painting! - With hand that sought no treasure but renown, - And heart that knew no fear, and felt no fainting. - Full many a time, perchance beneath thy shade, - The youthful sachem stood with pride surveying - His wide domains, and the soft valley’s shade, - Where through the bowers his dark-eyed love was straying. - Yet sometimes still there comes a wasted form, - With locks like thine, by many winters faded; - Well has he brav’d the battle, and the storm, - The sachem whom thy youthful branches shaded. - Ye are a noble pair, ye stand the last, - Each of a noble race; and ye are staying - Magnificent mementoes of the past, - Glorious and wonderful in your decaying. - And thou dost toss thy branches to the wind, - And sigh sad dirges of thy perished glory; - And he is brooding, with a saddened mind, - Over a perish’d nation’s wrongful story. - A few more years, and the wild eagle’s wing - Shall seek his long-lov’d rest with mournful screaming; - A few more years, and no dark form shall cling - To this stern height of perish’d glory dreaming. - And who will mourn when thou art lying low, - And o’er thy shattered limbs green mosses creeping; - What noble heart will melt with generous woe, - When the last warrior of his race is sleeping? - - Liberty, December, 1840. - - * * * * * - - - - - THE REEFER OF ’76. - - - BY THE AUTHOR OF “CRUIZING IN THE LAST WAR.” - - - THE RESCUE. - - -“God bless you!” said my old schoolmate, Harry St. Clair, to me, on a -bright morning in April, 1776, as I shook his hand for the last time, -and leaping into the stern-sheets of the boat, waved my hand in adieu, -and bade the crew, with a husky voice, give way. I could scarcely trust -myself to look again at the group of old classmates crowding the -battery, for a thousand memories of the past came crowding on me as I -gazed. The tears, despite myself, welled into my eyes. Determined that -no one should witness my emotions, I turned my face away from the crew, -affecting to be engaged in scanning the appearance of the brigantine -destined to be my future home, the Fire-Fly. - -She was as beautiful a craft as ever sat the water. Her hull was long -and low, of a mould then but lately introduced. There was no poop upon -her quarter deck, nor was she disfigured by the unsightly forecastle -then in use. Never had I seen a more exquisite run than that which her -glossy hull developed; while her tall, rakish spars, tapering away into -needles, and surrounded by their cobweb tracery of ropes, finished the -picture. She was, indeed, all a sailor’s heart could desire. When I -stepped upon her decks my admiration increased to a ten-fold degree. She -had seemed from the water to be a craft of not more than a hundred tons -burthen; but the illusion vanished on ascending her side, when you found -yourself on board of a brigantine of not less than thrice that size. Her -well-scraped decks; her bright burnished binnacle; the boarding-pikes -lashed to the main-boom; the muskets placed in stands abaft the -main-mast; the nicety with which even the smallest rope was coiled down -in its place; the guns ranged along on either side under her bulwarks, -and especially the air of neatness, finish, and high discipline -perceptible about her, convinced me that I was embarking on board a -man-of-war of the highest professional character. In fact I knew Captain -Stuart’s reputation to be that of a rigid disciplinarian. - -“Mr. Parker—glad to see you,” said my superior, as I touched the deck -and raised my hat, “you are punctual, but allow me,” said he, turning to -an officer on his right hand, whom I knew to be his lieutenant, “to -present you to Mr. Lennox—Mr. Lennox, Mr. Parker.” - -The usual salutations were exchanged; the boat was hoisted in; and I -dove down into the mess-room to stow away my traps. It was full of -officers. The second lieutenant, the purser, and my three fellow reefers -greeted me heartily, as they rose from a long, narrow table, on which -was a formidable display of salt junk and old Jamaica. - -“Just in time, Parker,” sang out my old crony, Westbrook, “we’re -stiffening ourselves to keep up against the fog outside. Push the -bottle, Jack—a cut of the junk for Parker—and as there’s nothing like -beginning right, here’s a jolly voyage to us.” - -The toast had just been drunk, amid a whirlwind of huzzas, when the -shrill whistle of the boatswain shrieked through the ship, followed by -the hoarse cry, “all hands on deck, ahoy!” - -In an instant the gun-room was deserted, and we were at our several -posts; while the gallant brigantine echoed with the tramp of the crew, -the orders of the first lieutenant, and the monotonous creaking of the -windlass, as the anchor was being hove up to the bows. - -By the time the anchor was catted the morning sun was just beginning to -struggle over the heights of Long Island; and as the mists upon the -water curled upward in fantastic wreaths beneath his rays, the head of -our brigantine began slowly to incline from the breeze. In another -instant, as her sails filled, the water could be heard rippling under -the cut-water. Then as a sudden puff of wind pressed her down toward her -bearings, and we shot rapidly ahead, the bubbles went whizzing along her -sides, and eddying around her rudder, swept away astern in a long and -glittering wake. - -I stood, after the bustle of making sail was over, gazing on the scenery -around me, with feelings such as I had never experienced before. It was -to be my first voyage in a man-of-war: I would soon, doubtless, imbrue -my hands in the blood of my fellow men; and I myself might never return -alive from my cruize. I could not help, therefore, being filled with -strange and new emotions, as I leaned over the taffrail, gazing on the -now fast-receding town, and recurring, again and again, to the many -happy days I had spent in my native city, and to the dear faces there -which I might never see again. But gradually these feelings were lost in -the admiration enkindled in my bosom by the beauty of the surrounding -scenery. - -It was indeed a glorious sight which opened around me. Right in the wake -of the brigantine lay the city, still partly shrouded in the morning -mists; while the back-ground was filled up by a range of uplands, -through which a narrow opening disclosed where the Hudson rolled his -arrowy course. To the right lay Governor’s Island, the East River, with -its shipping, and the verdant shores of Long Island; while on the left -rose up the bluff highlands of Staten Island, emerging, as it were, from -a cloud of mist, and crowned with antique farm-houses, rich fields of -verdant grass, and here and there a strip of woodland, as yet sparsely -decked with its new-found leaves. Directly ahead were the Narrows, with -the frowning heights on either hand; while a white, glittering line on -the horizon without, and the long, undulating swell, heaving in through -the streight, betokened our near approach to the ocean. A few sails -flashed in the distance. All was still, beautiful, and serene. -Occasionally, however, the measured sound of oars would give token of a -passing fishing boat, or a snatch of a drinking song would float from -some craft idly anchored in the stream. A few gulls screamed overhead. A -flock of smaller water-fowl wheeled and settled on a strip of white, -sandy beach just outside the Narrows. The surf broke with a hollow roar, -in a long line of foam, along the neighboring coast; while out on the -sea-board hung a dim haze, undulating slowly beneath the sun’s rays as -he rose, blood-red, in the eastern horizon. - -“A fine breeze for our first day’s cruize,” said Westbrook, “and, faith, -a deuce of a one it will be, if we should happen to be caught by one of -King George’s frigates, and either be strung up for rebels at the yard -arm, or stifled to death in one of his cursed prison hulks. What think -you of the prospect, comrades, isn’t it pleasant?” - -“Pleasant do ye call it?” said Patrick O’Shaughnessy, a reefer of about -my own age, who was a dangerously late emigrant to the colony, “shure, -and it is rayther at my father’s hearth I would be, in dear, ould -Ireland, afther all, if we’re to be thrated as rebels the day.” - -“Your father’s hearth, Pat,” said Westbrook, “and do you really mean to -say that they have such things in Galway, or wherever else it was that -you were suffered to eat potatoes in ignorance, until your guardians -brought you out here on a speculation.” - -“By St. Patrick, your head must be hard,” said the irritated reefer, -“and it’s well that my shillelah isn’t on the wrist—” - -“Pshaw! now you’re not angry, comrade mine,” said Westbrook, laughing -good-humoredly, but repenting already of his reckless speech, “come, -we’ve got a long cruize before us, and we shall have enough of quarrels -with those rascally British, without getting up any among ourselves,” -and he frankly extended his hand. - -“Shure, and it’s a gentleman ye are, Misther Westbrook, and I’d like to -see the spalpeen that says ye aint,” said O’Shaughnessy, grasping the -proffered hand, and shaking it heartily. - -“Yonder are the white caps of the Atlantic, rolling ahead,” said I, as -we stretched past Sandy Hook, and beheld the broad ocean opening in all -its vastness and sublimity before us. - -We were now fairly afloat. At that time the enterprise in which we had -embarked was one of the greatest danger, for not only were we liable to -the usual dangers of nautical warfare, but we were, as yet, uncertain in -what manner we should be treated in case of a capture. But we were all -confident in the justness of our country’s cause, and being such, we -were prepared for either fortune. - -Nearly a week elapsed without anything occurring to dissipate the -monotony of our voyage, excepting a momentary alarm at the appearance of -a frigate, which we at first took to be an English one, but which -subsequently turned out to be a Frenchman. Meanwhile, we were not -without many a merry bout in the gun-room, and over our salt junk and -Jamaica, we enjoyed ourselves as hilariously as many an epicure would -over his Burgundy and turtle-soup. The jest went round; the song was -gaily trolled; many a merry story was rehearsed, and anticipations of a -successful cruize were mingled with determinations to bear the worst, if -fortune should so will it. Under the broad flag of New York, we were -resolved “to do or die,” against the prouder ensign of an unjust, and -tyrannical king. - -We had run down well nigh to the Windward islands, and were beating up -against a head wind, when we spoke a French merchantman, who informed us -that he had passed a rich Indiaman, but the day before, bound from -London to Jamaica. After enquiring the course of the Englishman, our -skipper hauled his wind, and bidding the friendly Gaul, “_un bon -voyage_,” we steered away in pursuit of our prize. Night settled down -upon us before we caught sight of her; but still crowding on all sail we -kept on in our way. - -It was about eight bells in the middle watch, and I was on the point of -preparing to go below, after the relief should have been called, when I -thought I heard a rattling of cordage down in the thick bank of fog to -leeward. I listened attentively, and again heard the sound distinctly, -but this time it was like the rollicking of oars. - -“Hist! Benson,” said I to the boatswain, who was standing near me at the -moment, “hist! lay your ear close to the water here, and listen if you -do not hear the sound of oars.” - -The old fellow got into the main chains, and holding on with one hand to -them, cautiously leaned over and listened for several minutes. - -“I hear nothing, sir,” said he in a whisper, “it’s as still as death -down in yonder fog-bank. But I’ll keep a sharp look-out, for it may be -there’s a sail close on to us, without our knowing it, in this mist.” - -The night had been intensely dark, but was now breaking away overhead, -where a few stars could be seen twinkling on the patches of half-hid -azure sky. All round the horizon, however, but especially to leeward, -hung a dark, massy curtain of mist, shrouding everything on the -sea-board in impenetrable obscurity, and, like piled up fleeces, laying -thick and palpable upon the immediate surface of the ocean, but -gradually becoming thinner and lighter as it ascended upwards, until it -finally terminated in a thin, gauze-like haze, almost obscuring the -stars on the mid heaven above. So dense was the mist in our immediate -vicinity, that the man at the helm could not discern the end of the -bowsprit; while the upper yards of the brigantine looked like shadowy -lines in the gloom. Occasionally, the light breeze would undulate the -fog, lifting it for a moment from the water, and disclosing to our sight -a few fathoms of the unruffled sea around us; but before a minute had -passed the vapors would again settle in fantastic wreaths upon the face -of the deep, wrapping us once more in the profoundest obscurity. Not a -sound was heard except the occasional rubbing of the boom, the sullen -flap of a sail, or the low ripple of the swell under our cut-water, as -we stole noiselessly along in the impenetrable gloom. The tread of one -of the watch, or the sudden thrashing of a reef-point against the sail, -broke on the ear with startling distinctness. Suddenly I heard a noise -as of a stifled cry coming up out of the thick fog to leeward, from a -spot apparently a few points more on our quarter than the last sound. -The boatswain heard it also, and turning quickly to me, he said— - -“There’s something wrong there, Mr. Parker, or my name isn’t Jack -Benson. And look—don’t you see a ship’s royal through the fog -there—just over that gun—that shadowy object, like a whiff of -tobacco-smoke, down here to the right, is what I mean.” - -“By heavens! you are right—and—see!—yonder comes her fore-top-mast, -rising above the undulating mist.” - -“Ship ahoy!” hailed the second lieutenant, at that moment appearing on -deck, and listening to my report, “what craft is that?” - -The hoarse summons sailed down to leeward, like the wailing of some -melancholy spirit, but no answer was returned. A couple of minutes -elapsed. - -“Ship ah—o—o—y!” sung out the officer again, “answer, or I’ll fire -into you—this is the Fire-Fly, an armed vessel of the free state of New -York.” - -“We are a merchantman, belonging to Philadelphia,” answered a gruff -voice in reply. - -“Send your boat on board.” - -“We can’t,” answered the same voice, “for one of them was washed -overboard, three days ago, in a gale, and the other one was swamped.” - -At this instant, one of those sudden puffs of wind, to which I have -already alluded, momentarily swept away the fog from around the -approaching ship, and we beheld, to our astonishment, that her sails had -been backed, and that she was slowly falling astern of us, as if with -the intention of slipping across our wake, and going off to windward. - -“Fill away again, there,” thundered the lieutenant, perceiving their -manœuvre, “or I’ll fire on you—fill away, I say.” - -“By the holy aposthles,” said O’Shaughnessy at this moment, “isn’t there -a schooner’s mast, on the lee-quarter of the fellow—yes—there it -is—see?” - -Every eye was instantly turned in the direction to which he had pointed. -A single glance established the keenness of his vision. Right under the -weather quarter of the merchantman, might be seen the mast of apparently -a small schooner. The sails were down, and only the bare stick could be -discerned; but the whole truth flashed upon us as if with the rapidity -of lightning. - -“The ship is in the hands of pirates,” I exclaimed involuntarily, “God -help the poor wretches who compose her crew.” - -“Boarders ahoy!” sung out the voice of the captain, breaking, like a -trumpet-call, upon the momentary silence of the horror-struck crew, -“muster on the forecastle, all—up with the helm, quarter-master—ready -to grapple there—heave,” and the huge irons, as we bore down upon the -ship, went crashing among her hamper. - -The instant that discovered the true nature of our position, worked a -change in the whole appearance of the merchantman. Her deserted decks -swarmed with men; her silence gave place to shouts, oaths, and the -clashing of arms; and after a momentary confusion, we saw, in the -obscurity, a dark group of ruffians clustered on the forecastle, -awaiting our attack. - -“Boarders ahoy!” again shouted Captain Stuart, brandishing his sword on -high, “follow me,” and springing into the fore-rigging of the -merchantman, he levelled a pistol at the first pirate attempting to -oppose him, and followed by a score, and more, of hardy tars, rushed, -the next instant, down upon her decks. - -“Stand to your posts, my men,” thundered the pirate captain, as he stood -by the main-mast, surrounded by his swarthy followers, “stand to your -posts, and remember, you fight for your lives—come on,” and drawing a -pistol from his belt, he levelled it at the first lieutenant, who, -pressing on, aside of Captain Stuart, received the ball in his side, and -fell, apparently, lifeless on the deck. - -“Revenge! Revenge!” thundered the Captain, turning to cheer on his men, -“sweep the miscreants from the deck, on—on,” and waving his sword -aloft, he dashed into the fray. The men answered by a cheer, and bore -down upon the pirates with an impetuosity, doubly more vehement from -their desire to avenge the fallen lieutenant. - -For full five minutes the contest was terrific. Desperation lent -additional vigor to the freebooters’ muscles, while our own men were -inflamed to madness by the fall of Lennox. I had never been in a -conflict of any kind whatever before, and for the first few moments—I -will not hesitate to own it—a strange whirling sensation, akin to fear, -swept through my brain. But a half a minute had not passed before it had -vanished; and I felt a wild tumultuous excitement which seemed to endow -me with the strength of a Hercules. I lost all sight of the turmoil -around me. I could only see that it had become a general _mêleé_, in -which personal prowess was of more importance than discipline. I heard a -wild mingling of oaths, shouts, cries for mercy, the clashing of arms, -the explosion of pistols, the shrieks of the wounded, and the fierce -tramping of men struggling together in the last stage of mortal combat. -But I had no time for more detailed observations. A giant ruffian -singling me out from the crowd, rushed upon me with uplifted cutlass, -and the next instant I would have been clove in twain, had I not caught -the blow upon my blade. But so tremendous was its force that it -splintered my trusty steel to fragments, and sent a shock through every -nerve of my system. I staggered. But not a moment was to be lost. -Already the gigantic arm of the pirate was raised on high. Happily my -pistols were both as yet untouched. Springing back a step or two I -jerked one from my belt, levelled it at his brain, and fired. He whirled -around as if intoxicated, staggered, would have caught at the mast for -support, and fell over dead upon the deck. - -But I had no leisure to regard my fallen foe. The contest still raged -around me fiercer than ever. On our side of the ship, however, the -pirates had broken, and were retreating slowly and doggedly toward the -stern. We pressed on hotly in pursuit, while shouts, curses, and huzzas, -the groans of the dying, and the fierce rattling of cutlasses, formed a -tumult around us of stirring excitement; but just as I rushed past the -gangway, followed by a few of the bravest of our crew, a wild, long, -thrilling scream from the cabin below, rose up over all the uproar of -the conflict. It could come from no one but a woman—that prolonged cry -of mortal agony! In an instant the retreating pirates were forgotten; I -thought only of the danger of the sufferer below. Dashing aside, with -the power of a giant, a brawny ruffian who would have impeded my -progress, I sprang, at one leap, half way down the gangway, and with -another stride found myself in the cabin of the ship. - -Never shall I forget the scene that there met my eyes. - -The apartment in which I stood was elegantly, even luxuriously -furnished, presenting the appearance rather of a sumptuous drawing-room, -than of a merchantman’s cabin. The state-rooms were of mahogany, -elegantly inlaid with ebony. A service of silver and rich cut glass was -ranged in the beaufut around the mast. Silken ottomans stretched along -the sides of the room; a silver lamp of exquisite workmanship, depended -from the ceiling; and a carpet of gorgeous pattern, and of the finest -quality, covered the floor. But not a solitary individual was to be -seen. A lady’s guitar, however, lay carelessly on one of the ottomans, -and a few books were scattered around it in easy negligence. Could I be -deceived with this corroborative testimony? Yet where was the owner of -these little trifles? These reflections did not, however, occupy an -instant; for I had scarcely finished a rapid survey of the cabin before -another, and another shriek, ringing out just before me, roused every -emotion of my heart to an uncontrollable fury. Catching sight of an -undulating curtain at the farther end of the apartment, which I had -imagined was only the drapery of the windows, I darted forward, and -lifting up the damask, started back in horror at the sight that met my -eyes. - -This after cabin was smaller, and even more luxuriously fitted up than -the other. But I did not remark this, at the time, for such a scene as I -then witnessed, God grant I may never be called to look upon again. - -As I pushed aside the curtain, three swarthy, olive-complexioned -ruffians, dressed with more elaboration than any of their comrades I had -yet seen, turned hastily around as if interrupted in some infamous deed, -scowling upon me with the looks of demons. It needed but a glance to -detect their fiendish work. A well dressed elderly man was extended at -their feet, weltering in his blood. On an ottoman before them half -lying, half sitting, was one of the fairest beings I had ever seen, her -night dress disordered, her frame trembling, and her hair, wild and -dishevelled, hanging in loose tresses from her shoulders. Her hands were -covered in one or two places with blood; her eyes were wild; her face -was flushed; and she panted as one does whose strength has been nearly -overtasked in a desperate struggle. Never shall I forget the unutterable -agony depicted on that countenance when I first entered; never shall I -forget the lightning-like change which came over it as her eye fell upon -me. Rushing frantically forward, while joy beamed in every feature of -her face, she flung herself into my arms, shrieking hysterically, - -“Oh! save me—save me—for the love of your mother, save me.” - -My sudden appearance had startled the three ruffians, and for a moment -they stood idle, suffering her to dart between them; but at the sound of -her voice, they rushed as one man upon me. The odds were fearful, but I -felt, at that instant, as if I could have dared heaven and earth in -behalf of that suffering maiden. Clasping my arm around her waist, and -retreating hastily into the other cabin, I shouted aloud for aid, -parrying, with a cutlass I picked up at random, the attack of the -miscreants. But the attempt was desperation itself. Already I had -received two cuts across my arm, and I could scarcely hold my weapon in -it, when the foremost ruffian, leaving my death, as he thought, to his -comrades, laid his unholy hand once more upon the maiden. Good God! I -thought my heart would have burst at this new insult. My determination -was quicker than the electric spark of heaven. Hastily releasing the -lovely burden from my hold, I seized my remaining pistol with the -disengaged hand, and before the villain could perceive my purpose -planted it against his face and fired. The brains spattered the ceiling, -and even fell upon my own face and arm. But the miscreant was dead. Oh, -the joy, the rapture of that moment! I heard, too, as the report -subsided, the death-groan of another of the ruffians falling beneath the -avenging cutlass of our men, who now, victorious on deck, came pouring -down the hatchway. In another instant, as a shout of victory rang -through the cabin, I had raised the almost senseless girl from the -floor. She looked eagerly into my face, gazed wildly around, uttered a -cry of joy, and convulsively clinging to me, as if for shelter, buried -her head upon my bosom, and burst into a passion of hysteric tears. - -The emotions of that moment were such as I had never deemed mortal being -capable of experiencing. Feelings I cannot even now describe whirled -through me, until my brain seemed almost to spin around in a delirium of -joy. Yet there was a holiness in my emotions, far, far different from -the common sensations of pleasure. I felt—I knew not how—a sudden -interest in the fair being, sobbing convulsively upon my shoulder, which -made her already seem dearer to me than life itself. I pressed her -involuntarily to me; but a mother could not have done so with more -purity to a new-born infant. Her sobs melted me so that I could scarcely -keep my own eyes dry. - -“God bless you, my poor, sweet girl,” I said in a husky voice, “you are -among friends now.” - -The tone, the words went to her very heart; she clasped me convulsively -again, and burst into a fresh flood of tears. Poor dove! she had just -escaped from the hands of the spoiler, and fluttered, as yet, -involuntarily on her rescuer’s bosom. - -“God—in—hea—ven—bless you,” she murmured, betwixt her sobs, after a -while, raising her tearful countenance from my shoulder, and looking -upon me with eyes, whose depth, and whose gratitude I had never seen -equalled—“God—bless—you, sir, for this act. Oh! if a life of prayers -for your welfare can repay you,” she continued, with uplifted hands, and -a countenance, which, in despite of its earnestness, was crimsoned with -blushes, “it shall be freely given by me. But my uncle! my poor uncle! -alas! they have murdered him,” and she covered her eyes with her hands, -as if to shut out the fearful sight. - -“Say nothing, my dear girl,” said I, the tears standing in my own eyes, -“all are friends around you now. The ship has been rescued—the pirates -are no more. Compose yourself—none here will harm you—your slightest -wish shall be attended to, and you shall be served with the purity with -which we serve a saint. Do not thus give way to grief—let me insist on -your retiring—here is your maid,” said I, as the trembling creature -emerged from a state-room, in which she had locked herself when her -mistress was in danger, “a little rest will compose you.” - -“Oh! my uncle, my more than parent—heaven bless you,” sobbed the -beautiful, but still agitated girl, as she suffered herself to be led -away by her little less agitated maid. - -The prize turned out to be the British West-Indiaman, which had been -surprised by pirates about a quarter of an hour before we hailed her. -The beautiful being and her uncle were the only passengers. It is -needless to say that very few of the ruffians survived the conflict, and -that those who did were tried summarily by a court-martial the next day, -and hung at the ship’s yard-arm. Their little schooner, or rather -oyster-boat, was scuttled and sunk. - -The wounds in my arm proved serious, though not dangerous, but they did -not disable me from continuing on duty. I would willingly have lost the -limb in such a holy cause. - -The first appearance on deck of Beatrice Derwent—for such was the name -of her I rescued—was at the burial of her uncle on the evening -succeeding the re-capture of the ship. She appeared, leaning on the arm -of her maid, and as her eye, just lifted for one moment from the deck, -happened to catch mine, her face became suffused with crimson, and such -a look of gratitude toward the living, combined with grief for the dead, -flashed over her countenance as I never saw equalled. But in another -moment her eyes dropped once more on the corpse, and I saw, by the -convulsive heaving of her bosom, how fearful was her grief. When the -corpse was launched into the deep, her sorrow broke all the restraint of -custom, and she sobbed aloud. Directly, however, they subsided -partially; and as she turned to re-enter the cabin, the last rays of the -setting sun, gilding the mast-head with a crown of glory, and glittering -along the surface of the deep, lingered a moment on her sunny hair, like -the smile of the departed spirit. - -The prize meantime, proving to be richly laden, was allotted to me to -conduct into port, as the first lieutenant’s wound prevented him from -assuming the command, and the second lieutenant chose rather to remain -with the brigantine. Beatrice Derwent was, as a matter of course, to -continue on board the merchantman. Thus did destiny again link my fate -with this lovely creature, and by one of those simple accidents which so -often occur, open for me a train of events, whose transaction it is my -purpose to detail in the following crude autobiography. - -The sensations with which I watched the receding brigantine, after -assuming my new command, and hauling up on our course, may well be -imagined. Scarcely a fortnight had elapsed since I first launched on the -deep, a nameless, unknown, irresponsible midshipman; and now, by one of -fortune’s wildest freaks, I was commanding a prize of untold value, and -become the protector of the loveliest of her sex. - - “There’s a divinity that shapes our fortunes, - Rough hew them as we will.” - -It was not till the third day after parting company with the brigantine, -that Miss Derwent, with her maid, appeared once more upon the deck. The -shock of her uncle’s death had brought on an illness, which confined her -during that time to the cabin; and even now, there was a languor in her -fine countenance, and a melancholy in her dark eye, which, though they -added to the interest of her appearance, betokened the acuteness of her -grief. She was attired in a dark silken dress; her hair was plainly -braided back, and she wore no ornaments of any kind whatever. Rarely had -I beheld a vision of such surpassing loveliness. I stepped forward to -assist her to a seat. She smiled faintly, her eyes sparkled a moment, -and then a deep blush shot across her saddened features. But I will not -detail the scene that ensued. Suffice it to say that, from that moment I -loved Beatrice; and that though she had not bid me hope, there was -nothing in her conduct to bid me despair. - - * * * * * - - - - - SABBATH BELLS.—IMPROMPTU. - - - BY WILLIS G. CLARK. - - - Sweet Sabbath! to my ear, - Thy bells, with mingling tone, - Tell of the distant and the dear - In yon far blue unknown. - - Of happier days they tell, - When o’er the vernal ground, - Fairer than Ocean’s richest shell, - Young Nature breathed around: - - When Hope, as at a shrine, - To Fancy poured her lay, - And hues, inspiring and divine, - Painted the live-long day. - - Sweet bells! They have a voice, - Lost to the usual air, - Which bids the sorrowing heart rejoice, - Though life no more be fair. - - Though dust to dust has gone, - They speak of brighter hours, - When Memory, as from a throne, - Surveyed her paths of flowers. - - Of sunny spots, where Love - Unfurled his purple wings, - And filled the spirit and the grove - With glorious offerings! - - * * * * * - - - - - A SEA SCENE. - - - BY ROBERT MORRIS. - - - The world is hushed and still, save where the sea - Against the rock-bound shore, in monster glee - Rushes and roars, and far along the coast, - In solemn thunders o’er the loved and lost - A constant requiem pours. Above—beyond— - No glimmering light is seen! No cheerful sound - Steals from the distance. Not a lonely star - Gleams from the dim, mysterious depths afar, - To win the eye, and, like a spirit chart, - To chase the sadness from the sea-boy’s heart. - His craft is small and frail—the waves are high— - And fresh and chill the wild breeze whistles by! - On, madly, blindly, rushes his slight sail, - An arrow winged before the maddened gale. - His heart is stout and firm; his messmates true, - Will, at his call, their hopeless toil renew! - But hark! that peal! Old ocean reels and rings, - While wilder still, the poor craft bends and springs; - And see yon flash—like lava from the sky - Poured rashly out by some dread hand on High, - And dealing death to those unfit to die! - Again—again! And mingling with the sea - The frail thing sinks and mounts. Eternity - Now yawns at every plunge, and each strong wave - Seems hurrying on to some cold ocean grave! - Now lost to view—now soaring with the swell— - Ah! who the thoughts of that pale crew may tell! - How radiant, Home, must seem thy beauties now! - How far thy low roof from that vessel’s prow! - How angel-like fond features, sunny eyes, - Rise o’er the waves in memory’s paradise! - Sweet gentle words are heard amid the storm, - And hands are clasped, whose blood flows fast and warm. - The future breaks upon the mental sight, - And Hope’s eternal watch-fire gives it light! - The soul again is nerved—the storm rolls on— - Morn breaks, and with it comes the welcome sun, - And though, as yet, no land salutes the eye, - Some tropic bird comes wheeling gaily by; - The air seems sweeter, and the ocean’s foam - Looks fresher, brighter, and reminds of home! - Oh! who may paint the rapture of that hour— - The peril past, the breeze, with fresh’ning power, - Filling the out-spread canvass! Who may tell - The wild emotions that each bosom swell, - As the glad morrow dawns upon the soul; - And feeling’s fountain bursts beyond control— - As welcome voices greet, or lip to lip, - In speechless joy, the heart’s companionship— - Is mutely told—or, as in some fair face - A gentler, deeper, thought of love we trace, - And mark with joy the chosen one’s embrace! - - * * * * * - - - - - THE SYRIAN LETTERS. - - - WRITTEN FROM DAMASCUS, BY SERVILIUS PRISCUS OF CONSTANTINOPLE, TO HIS - KINSMAN, CORNELIUS DRUSUS, RESIDING AT ATHENS, AND BUT NOW TRANSLATED. - - - LETTER I. - - Damascus. - - Servilius to Cornelius—Greeting: - -How cheering it is, my dear Cornelius, after a long and perilous voyage, -and the fearful pitchings of a frail vessel, to feel your accustomed -security of footstep, and trace in the wide plains and lofty mountains -the varying forms of nature’s loveliness, doubly enchanting after a -temporary separation. Such were my emotions after landing on the shore -of Berytus, heightened by the delightful and unexpected surprise of -meeting an old friend in a strange land. - -Sulpicius behaved toward us in the most elegant and hospitable manner, -and so swiftly did the interval between arrival and departure fly, that -the scene of parting salutation was in sad contrast with the joy of our -first greeting. But as I have revived these recollections, let me give a -hasty sketch of what passed on the second evening of our landing. Having -gathered around the tables to the evening repast, cheerfulness reigned -triumphant. Tossed for days upon the whirling waters, we were now in -conscious security gaily, assembled in the harmonious circle, with not a -care to distract, and every reasonable pleasure to elevate. The music -ceasing, Lactantius observed he was sure he had heard that strain -before, he thought, when off the coast of Cyprus. - -“Yes,” I replied, with a smile, “Lactantius you are right, I also heard -it.” - -“Ah!” said he, “I believed every eye had been closed in sleep. It was my -custom at the dead hour of night, that time so fruitful of meditation -and of better thoughts—when silence reigns and unarmed repose throws -her soft mantle over every living thing; and the air robbed of its noon -day heat grows cool and balmy, to order before me the events of the day, -and mark wherein I had done amiss. Pardon me, Lactantius, this was not -all, have I not heard you, on more than one occasion, breathe passages -not of poetry only, but of bright description and solid thought? Come, I -call upon you, in the name of those around, should you approve, to -narrate the story of our voyage.” - -“Yes! a good thought,” they cried. “And interweave,” says Marcus, “as -much poetry in the narration as you are wont.” - -“Stay,” cries Sulpicius, “if you mean by poetry, play of fancy, at the -expense of geography, I should heartily prefer the unpainted narrative, -for how is it that travellers love the wonderful so much, and delight to -make the storms more dangerous, the mountains higher, and the valleys -greener than nature ever made them?” - -“Such Sulpicius, is not my meaning,” rejoined Marcus, “but only that one -so competent to color nature as she should be colored, should perform -the task, and who, if he but wave the gay wand of fancy, may bring -before you every hill in its greenness, and temple in its sculptured -whiteness, so that you might almost believe you saw them on the -painter’s easel, or starting up in beautiful reality at your feet.” - -“Stop Marcus, the subject of this undeserved eulogy is present, and if -you say another word I shall hesitate whether to begin, since our -friends may form expectations which cannot be realised.” - -With this he described the whole course of our voyage, from our -embarkation at Constantinople to our landing at Berytus, its perils and -its pleasures: the countries we saw, the cities we visited, in that full -and flowing style for which he is so celebrated. At one moment he would -bring so faithfully to our eye, the terrors of that night on which we -were so near engulphed, that the shudder of fancied danger shot through -our veins, and the billows almost seemed to toss us, so vividly can a -master’s hand summon up an image of those horrors one has but lately -passed through. Indeed at one part of the recital, Fortunatus who was -present, uttered a smothered cry to the sailors, as if he was again -acting the part of a commander upon his ship. At this strange -ejaculation, notwithstanding the exciting story, we could not repress -our laughter; Lactantius himself joining in the general merriment. When -he began to describe the different cities we had entered, he used -considerable action, and so clearly did he bring the representation to -our view that in pointing, as if to the real object, we instinctively -followed with our eyes the motion of his fingers, as it were, in -expectation that the rising walls of some palace, or the rich scenery of -some wooded valley, would meet our gaze. Such is that silent homage -which we unknowingly pay to eloquent genius. - -When he had finished, some expression of pleasure or admiration burst -from every tongue, and Sulpicius ordered us to fill our glasses to -Lactantius, accompanying this token of friendship with other marks of -high wrought satisfaction, such as he displays only on those occasions, -when his feelings are strongly enlisted in the object of them. - -“Lactantius,” he remarked, “having always at my elbow a ready scribe, -who, committing to parchment with the most wonderful facility all that -falls from the lips of those distinguished men from Rome, -Constantinople, or other great cities, who in their travels may chance -to honor me with a visit, I have been enabled to accumulate a rich -collection, over which, whether as memorials of genius or of friendship, -I linger, whenever I peruse them, with fresh delight. This day’s -conversation, as it fell from your lips, is already deposited on the -precious pile.” - -Here I perceived an uneasy play upon the features of my friend; as I -quickly traced the cause, for it was none other than his retiring -diffidence, I felt anxious to change the topic of our conversation. The -announcement of a stranger’s name, repeated, however, in so low a tone -that I did not hear it, diverted the attention of the company. Entering, -he walked toward the couch of Sulpicius, and we were all struck, at the -first glance, with his commanding air and dignified deportment. An ample -forehead, dark and piercing eye, and venerable beard, that sported with -by a passing wind, carelessly floated about the graceful folds of his -tunic, elicited instantaneous respect. - -“I come,” he said, addressing himself to Sulpicius, “to seek the great -Lactantius, and understanding he was present, took the liberty of -entering without ceremony.” Sulpicius with this, rose, kindly welcomed -and invited him to join us at the tables, but politely refusing, he -continued,—“I come to consult him upon a subject which I hold to be -entitled to the friendly countenance of every lover of generosity and -toleration, be he of whatever faith.” - -With this Lactantius arose and joined him, and as he clasped his hand, -there seemed so much Christian sincerity in his manner, that a tear -sparkled in the eye of the stranger, but it passed away, and his settled -demeanor was resumed. When they had left, a hundred conjectures sprang -up, as to what might be the object of this interview. But Sulpicius -informed us he was an eminent citizen of Berytus, that he had held a -responsible office under one of the last Emperors, embracing, however, -the creed of that new sect called Christians, he fell into disgrace, and -stood in jeopardy of his life, but was saved through the earnest -intercession of an influential friend residing at Baalbec, and a solemn -promise to retire into distant and perpetual banishment. Upon the death -of the Emperor he returned from exile, and would have been re-instated -in all his former dignities, but tiring of the turmoil of public life he -preferred the quiet of retirement, and the peaceful enjoyment of -domestic bliss. But you have not given us, observed Valerius, your -conjecture of the object of his visit, nor the name of that worthy -citizen whose intervention was so happy in its results. The object of -the interview is doubtless to arouse the feelings, or invoke the -powerful aid of Lactantius in the establishment of a Christian Colony, -or perhaps in the building of some Christian temple, since Constantine -has proved so munificent in the erection of the most gorgeous edifices -to the Christian’s God. The name of the citizen whose good offices were -so fortunate, was Æmelianus of Heliopolis. When this name was mentioned, -I noticed that the countenance of Lucretia became pale, and her lip was -compressed, as if in the suppression of some hidden emotion, but its -cause I was not able to divine. - -The sun upon the following day shining through the windows’ tapestry, -awoke me by his reddening beams, and warned me to rise and behold the -grandeur at my feet. Throwing the lattice open, I beheld a panorama -unequalled in sublimity and beauty by any thing I had ever seen. Berytus -stretched away below me, sparkling with shining domes, glistening house -tops, and here and there arose some marble monumental pillar, or an -obelisk, commemorative of some signal event, which, peeping from their -encircling grove, appeared to rest upon its summit like flakes of -freshly fallen snow. Beyond the city lay the ocean, with many a sail, -but dimly visible upon its heaving bosom; behind me rose, towering and -precipitous, eternal Lebanon, bathed in a flood of various lights, like -a vestment dyed with many colors, and the pines which crown its heights, -spreading their fringy leaves against the clouds, borrowed all their -hues. - -With nature clothed in gladness, and the scented freshness of the -morning air, filled with the warbling of birds, you may entertain -surprise when I tell you, that my feelings were those of sadness, for I -reflected that this great city must, in its turn, as other cities have, -either sink into insignificance, or become much diminished in splendor, -and its thousands of busy people, with the unerring certainty of the -rising sun, be gathered generation after generation, to their fathers, -while the hoary mountain at whose base it lay, would through all time -raise its head in haughty glory. How vain to boast of immortality, how -vain to live solely for ambition’s sake, when the fame of the hero rests -upon the mercy of a parchment, or the treacherous reliance of tradition. -A convulsion of the earth may overthrow a temple, the pride of -centuries, the boast of a nation—a spark consume a city, and time’s -wasting finger in the interval of but a few years, destroy the golden -record of genius, however perpetuated, so that the celebrity of the -orator, and the works of the poet, shall have but a flickering -existence, and finally shall perish from the recollection of their -countrymen. - -The morning of our departure being now at hand, we began our journey -from Berytus, through Baalbec to Damascus, and as it lay through a rocky -region, we knew it would be rough and wearisome, but when we remembered -the grandeur of nature, the mountains, valleys, forests, temples, -palaces, we should behold, we trusted we would be able to drive away -fatigue. - -Among those who performed the journey with us, were Lactantius, Marcus, -and Valerius; also Cornelia, and Placidia, the daughter of Lucius -Sergius, and their kinswoman Lucretia. - -Lucius having purchased a chariot, the ladies accompanied him by another -route, the rest of us having bought chargers at the market place of -Berytus, well accustomed to the rocky pathway, determined to travel by -the _via Antoniana_, cut at some spots into the solid rock, through the -liberality of Antoninus, who has left in this country endless works of -art, which I hope may remain imperishable monuments to his genius, -generosity, and enterprise. The journey from Berytus to Baalbec by this -route is of more than a day—arduous and perilous—but as I said, the -traveller finds an ample return for all his toil, in the awful sublimity -of countless rocky peaks, which cap these hoary mountains with an -imperishable crown. Rising into the clouds, they seem to bear the fleecy -vapors upon their broad summits, while their terrible height obscures -the morning sun, and for the while hides their base in impenetrable -darkness, and even throws a gloom upon the troubled bosom of the ocean, -which occasionally lashes their everlasting foundations in its fury. -Ocean always in motion, mountains ever at rest, both as thou wert a -thousand years ago—unchangeable! what a fruitful comment upon the -perishable creations of man’s feeble arm. - -Crossing the river Lycus, which having its birth among the purest -fountains, and finding its channel in the hollow of a deep cleft of the -mountains, shoots beneath your feet with impetuous dashings, we after a -space arrived at the banks of the purple Adonis. You may remember it was -near this river, that he, from whom it derives its name, came to his -end. Many temples have been dedicated in these wild regions to the -memory of Adonis, and to her who the poets tell us mourned so bitterly -for his loss. Having passed over Lebanon, we fell upon luxuriant -gardens; endless groves of olive trees; purpled vineyards; hill sides -clad with trees laden with ripe fruit, that shining from their dark -surrounding foliage, were bright with every tint of heaven, from the -richest golden to the deeply blushing red. Such was this enchanting -prospect, heightening in its beauty at each succeeding step, and when at -last we came in full view of the great Baalbec, or as some call -Heliopolis of Phenicia or of Assyria, built upon the level of a broad -and verdant plain, and starting from among deep embosoming thickets, our -admiration was irrepressible. High and conspicuous above the city walls -rose that greatest temple of the world, the Temple of the Sun, now lit -with his departing beams; and we could plainly trace its portico, its -courts, and surrounding temples. In one spot a monument or an obelisk -upreared itself, or the gilded dome of some Palace, shining like a -Pharos above the dark enshrouding groves. - -Having approached the northern gate of the city, we were obliged to pass -through established ceremonies ere we secured an entrance. This enabled -me to examine the beautiful architecture of this noble portal. Four -Corinthian pillars upon an elevated basement, supported a heavy -architrave, with niches between their intercolumniations, filled with -two statues, one representing the founder of the city, King Solomon in -royal robes, the other Sheba. In the centre hung a lofty brazen gate, -covered with massive mouldings cast in brass, one I recollect much -resembling that upon the great shield in the temple of Mars at -Constantinople. So weighty was this structure, that it must have proved -a labor of years to construct it, as it surely would one almost of -months to batter it down. It looked impenetrable. On beholding this -gate, I could not but fancy it opened into some new region, that when -drawn aside, I should be presented with a scene novel and wonderful. -Directly the immense mass began to yield, and the harsh rattling of its -bars and chains, and the low rumbling of its enormous hinges, reminded -me of distant, deep mouthed thunder. Its ponderous folds were now fully -opened to admit us, and the issue realised what fancy had portrayed, for -an exhibition of the gayest kind was passing before us. Young and ardent -charioteers in streaming and many colored robes, and mounted upon -chariots, richly inlaid with sparkling gems and gold, were driving their -highly mettled coursers in various directions, through the broad and -noble avenues, some of which seemed to terminate at this northern gate. -So rapid and complicated were the movements of these young votaries, -that it was matter of wonder to me they did not come in dreadful -conflict. Others on prancing steeds were displaying their gallant -horsemanship. Here you saw a gathering group of youthful citizens at -some athletic sport, and there a little knot of philosophers, who may be -readily distinguished by their long mantles, grave countenances, and -earnest conversation, as if in the hot discussion of some exciting -topic. You may have noticed after an attendance at the theatre for -hours, with nothing to fix your wandering gaze, except the curtain of -the Proscenium, how gladly you have hailed the lifting of it, revealing -the actors in full dress, and all the dazzling arrangements of the -Drama. Such were my sensations at this moment. Asking for the house of a -kinsman of Sergius, some friendly citizen informed us he had just left -him at the baths, but that he had perhaps returned, and he would conduct -us to his mansion. Arriving there, we found the owner at his hall of -entrance, when instantly recognising Sergius, he pressed us immediately -to dismount, else, as he alleged, we would violate the customs of -Heliopolis. Not choosing at the very first, to violate so hospitable a -custom, we cheerfully entered the splendid mansion, and as gladly were -we received. Having assembled in the Hall, after the freshening -influences of the bath, we were greeted by a number of distinguished -citizens, who, were invited to meet us, as eminent Romans upon our -journey through Syria. Under such _favorable auspices_ though wholly -undeserved as they respect your friend Servilius, it was not long ere we -cemented a friendship. “Highly welcome!” exclaimed Mobilius, (for this -was his title,) upon his first acquaintance, for on such good terms did -he seem to be with himself and those around him. “Highly welcome to -Baalbec, but this you will not find a very Christian spot, while these -priests of Heliopolitan Jove are so numerous: Is it true,” he continued -in the same breath, “and you must bring the latest news, that -Constantine intends to close our temples, and convert them into others, -for the observance of the rites of this new sect called Christians?” - -“There was such a rumor my friend,” replied Lactantius, “but of its -truth I cannot speak, would it were correct.” - -At this, his eye flashed and I plainly saw, he was a true convert to the -worship of the sun. - -“You would not speak thus,” he said, “had you ever witnessed the -splendid ceremonies of our religion,” and whispering to him as if -bestowing a peculiar mark of confidence, “you shall if you wish from a -secret undiscoverable nook, see all,” and darting a quick enquiring -glance, he added in the same low whisper, though distinct enough to be -heard by me, “you may be a convert.” - -“I will behold the spectacle,” was Lactantius’ brief reply. I doubted -not but that this great warrior in a self denying cause, had in this -ready compliance, some wise purpose, possibly, to persuade this youthful -votary of the danger of his faith, or to convert him to his own: and -such I believed was partly Mobilius’ design, so I felt there would be no -difficulty in securing a share of this undiscoverable nook, for I was -eager to witness these strange ceremonies. But I have exhausted my -parchment, and I fear your patience, so I shall reserve my account until -the next epistle, which I hope may find you as I trust this does in -continued prosperity and health. Farewell. - - Philadelphia, December, 1840. - - * * * * * - - - - - THINE—ONLY THINE. - - - BY MRS. CATHARINE H. W. ESLING. - - - Thine—only thine, - The bland winds whisper it at every breath, - And thou art mine— - Mine thro’ all changes—mine alone till death. - - Years will pass by, - And write their records upon either’s brow, - Will dim the eye, - But alter not one heart pulse beating now. - - Changes will come, - And the light foot, less lightly tread the ground, - The gentle hum - Of voices, will have lost their softest sound. - - And clinging ties - Will be dissever’d—from the household band - Some may arise - To the bright mansions in the “Happy Land.” - - In all their youth, - The sunny gladness of their early years, - To realms of truth - Their spotless souls soar from “the vale of tears.” - - Strong links may break, - Links that are twined around the inmost heart, - And dreamers, wake - To see their sand-built fabrics slowly part. - - But thou wilt be, - Even as the oak, in all thy strength and pride, - An unscath’d tree, - While I, the Ivy, cling thy form beside. - - And when we leave - The sunny paths of youth, where flowers grew bright - We will not grieve - That our brief morning hid its beams in night. - - Edging each cloud, - Hope’s silver ray shall light us near and far, - No darken’d shroud - Can hide from us love’s ever-burning star. - - Like noon’s sweet close - Before the shades of eve grow dim and dark, - When flowers repose, - And angels’ eyes day’s slow departure mark. - - Like that, shall seem - Our parting from this world of earthly bloom, - And life’s calm stream, - Shall gently lave us as we near the tomb. - - Thine—only thine, - The bland winds whisper it at every breath, - And thou art mine— - Mine thro’ all changes—mine alone till death. - - Philadelphia, December, 1840. - - * * * * * - - - - - CLARA FLETCHER. - - - OR, FIRST AND LAST LOVE. - - -“What a beautiful creature Clara Fletcher is!” exclaimed Mr. Tressayle. - -“Beautiful!” replied the lady by whom he stood, tossing her head -disdainfully, “why la!” and she raised her glass to her eye, “_I_ think -she’s positively plain looking.” - -“Beautiful indeed!” echoed her mamma, a fat, vulgar looking woman, the -flaunting colors of whose dress, betrayed her character at once, “why -now, I do say, Mr. Tressayle, it’s astonishing—it is—how a gentleman -of such _tone_ as you, should think that pert Miss Fletcher any thing -but common-like. Why do look at her hair now, I’d be bound she done it -up herself—and then her dress, why that stuff,” said she, with a -contemptuous curl of her lip, “couldn’t have cost a dollar a yard. Do -you think it could, Araminta, my dear?” - -Mr. Tressayle was decidedly the most fashionable man at Saratoga. With a -fine person, a handsome countenance, the most courtly manners, and more -than all supposed to be possessed of a fortune as extensive as his -establishment was fashionable, he was looked up to by all as _the_ match -of the season. The Belvilles, therefore, with whom he was now -conversing, were not a little flattered by the attentions which he paid -them. True they were the wealthiest family at the Springs; but then Mr. -Belville had made his princely fortune as a distiller. Originally the -keeper of a green-grocer’s shop, he had risen afterward into an obscure -tavern-keeper, and from thence by slow gradations, he had become a -wine-merchant, a distiller, a usurer, and a millionaire. Latterly, his -lady, discarding the shop, and affecting to despise tradesmen’s wives, -had set up for a woman of fashion, and nothing gave her, in her eyes, -more importance than the attentions obviously paid by Mr. Tressayle to -her only child, Araminta Melvina Belville, a long, scraggy young lady of -about two-and-twenty, but who affected the manners of “sweet sixteen.” -The devotion of Tressayle to such a being was indeed surprising to all -who did not know how involved was his fortune. - -What reply might have been made by Tressayle to this remark we know not, -for his answer was cut short by the appearance of no less a personage -than Mr. Belville. - -“How are you, Tressayle, fine girls here, eh!” said this gentleman, -slapping the young man somewhat familiarly on the shoulder, “deuced -handsome gal that, just come in, and has fell heiress to a cool three -hundred thousand. By Jove she’s a lucky thing to get the hunk of money -old Snarler made in the East India trade.” - -“Clara Fletcher heiress to Mr. Snarler!—you surprise me,” said -Tressayle, “I thought he had sworn to cut off her mother, who was his -sister, you know, and all her family with a shilling, merely for -marrying Mr. Fletcher, who, though poor, was in every respect a -gentleman.” - -“Ay, so he did—so he did, but he died at last—d’ye see?—without a -will,—and so Clara Fletcher, the only daughter of his only sister, cuts -into his fortune fat.” - -“It’s singular I never heard of this before,” said Tressayle, half -musingly. - -“Mamma, la! if I don’t think Mr. Tressayle has seen Miss Fletcher -before,” whispered the daughter behind her fan; and then raising her -voice and simpering and blushing as Tressayle looked down on overhearing -her, she continued, “dear me, you haven’t been listening all the while, -have you? But do tell, Mr. Tressayle, who is that young man talking with -her?” - -“I believe it is Mr. Rowley.” - -“Gad is _he_ the feller,” broke in Mr. Belville, “that published the -poems so many people are cracking up? Why he isn’t much after all I -guess. For my part I don’t see why some people get praised for writing -poetry—it’s nothing—I could do it myself if I’d try,” said he, with a -sneer. “I don’t think this Mr. Rowley a man of talent; no poet is.” And -finishing his sentence with a supercilious look at the subject of his -remarks, the ci-devant green-grocer, inflated with the consciousness of -his wealth, thrust his fingers into his waistcoat pockets, and marched -off to join another group. - -“Why, my dear Miss Fletcher, how d’ye do?” said the shrill voice of Mrs. -Belville, at this moment, as Mr. Rowley led his beautiful partner to a -seat near the pretender to ton, “how _have_ you been this age? Why how -well you are looking. Laws me, and so you know Mr. Tressayle. Well now I -do say how quiet you’ve all kept it.” - -It was as Mrs. Belville said. Clara Fletcher had scarcely replied to the -vulgar address of her neighbor by a distant though polite inclination of -her head, before she caught the eyes of Tressayle fixed upon her with a -look of mingled inquiry and delight, and as he bowed and stepped forward -a slight blush passed over her beautiful cheek, and a scarcely -perceptible tremor of the voice might have been detected in replying to -his salutation. - -That night mother and daughter held a long consultation, the result of -which was, that Miss Fletcher might prove a formidable rival, and that -therefore no arts were to be omitted to detach the fashionable and -wealthy Mr. Tressayle from her suite. - -Meanwhile, Tressayle reached his room, and throwing himself abstractedly -into a large _fautieul_, sat for nearly an hour, with his face leaning -on his hand. At length he started up, and pacing the room rapidly, -exclaimed, as if continuing a train of thought, - -“It is no use denying it, Clara Fletcher is far more beautiful than I -ever dreamed she could be. Yes! and I once loved her,—at least I told -her so. I wonder if she would refuse me now,” and he paused before the -glass. “Pshaw! it is idle to think so. True, she is not more than half -as wealthy as this inanimate little fool, Miss Belville; but, then, -there is the vulgar mother, and coarse father of the latter. Clara has -none of these. I never saw their vulgarity so plainly as I did to-night. -Ah! I forgot, there is that coldness I showed to Clara when her other -uncle disappointed every one’s expectations in omitting her in his will. -I’m cursedly afraid she’s not forgotten it. But, then, how could one -know she would ever become an heiress? It’s deucedly unlucky, now I -think of it, that I never called on her in New York, after my return -from Europe. But ‘faint heart never won fair lady;’ and, besides, if -Clara ever loved me, as I really think she once did, it’s not so -difficult a matter for Henry Tressayle to re-kindle that affection in -her bosom. Besides, I’m really making a heroic sacrifice in giving up a -fortune twice as large for my old flame.” - -From that time Tressayle was almost ever at the side of the beautiful -Clara Fletcher. He rode with her, sang with her, danced with her, -promenaded with her, and did this too, without a rival, for her former -suitor, Mr. Rowley had been compelled to return to New York by business, -and few cared to enter the lists against so resistless a beau as -Tressayle. Every body declared that they were already affianced lovers, -or they soon would be so, except the Belvilles, whose chagrin could not -be concealed, and who sneered even at the probability of such a thing. - -Tressayle, however, was not so well satisfied with his progress as was -the world at large. His knowledge of the sex told him that the conduct -of Clara toward him, was not exactly that of one whose affections he had -anew engaged. She was too easy, too composed, possessed of too much -quiet calmness at all times, not to awaken uneasy suspicions, lest her -love was not yet gained. Still, however, she did nothing to shew any -distaste for Tressayle’s society, and his own vanity led him on in the -pursuit. - -Nor was his love any longer a mere matter of calculation to Tressayle. -It had become a necessity—it had grown into a passion. If ever he loved -a woman, that woman had been Clara Fletcher, and when it had become -known that she was not her uncle’s heiress, it was not without a -struggle that Tressayle left her. But supremely selfish, and with a -fortune impaired by extravagance, he looked at it as an impossibility -that he should marry except to an heiress. Now, however, all his old -feelings toward Clara were revived, and revived too in ten-fold force. -Her fortune was no longer an obstacle. Yes, Tressayle loved; loved for -the first time; loved with more than the fervor of which such a man -might be thought capable. He could endure his suspense no longer, and -determining to propose at once for Clara, he chose for his purpose, an -afternoon when they rode out unaccompanied together. - -Words cannot describe the eloquence with which the lover—for -Tressayle’s talented, though selfish mind, was capable of the highest -eloquence—poured forth his passion in the ear of his mistress. But it -drew no answering emotion from Clara. A slight blush perhaps tinged her -cheek a moment, but her eye calmly looked into his own, and her voice -was firm and clear, as she replied, - -“Listen to me, Tressayle,” she said. “I am young still, but I was once -younger. You remember it well. Then I met you, and—need I disguise -it?—you spake to me of love. I know it was but once you said so, but it -was after you had paid attention to me which _you_ knew, as well as I, -was more eloquent than words. I had never seen one whom I thought your -equal, and I loved you. Stay—hear me out. I loved you with all the -ardor of a girl’s first love. But how was it returned? While I thought -only of you,—while a word from you was my law—while the day seemed -gloomy without your presence—while, in short, I gave to you freely -every emotion of my heart, _you_ were coolly calculating how much my -fortune would be, and preparing, as you subsequently did, to discard me -altogether in case I was not my uncle’s heiress—” - -“Oh, Clara, Clara, hear me.” - -“Yes, Tressayle, but listen first, and then I will hear you. You left me -without cause when my uncle’s will was opened and I was found to have -been overlooked. I need not tell you the agony of my heart on -discovering your character. Let that pass. Reason conquered at last. -They say a first love,” continued the beautiful girl, looking at her -companion until his eye quailed before the calm dignity of her own, “can -never be conquered; but believe me it is a mistake. When the object of -that love is unworthy, it is not impossible. And now, Tressayle, you -understand me. You are to me as a stranger. Never can I love you again. -I am, moreover, the affianced bride of Mr. Rowley.” - -Tressayle could not answer a word. Mortification and shame overpowered -him, and he was glad when he saw that they were near the termination of -their ride. - -The first person they met on alighting was Mr. Belville. Ashamed of -himself and stung to the very quick, Tressayle took advantage to propose -to the millionaire for his daughter. - -“Gad, and are you the only ignorant man here of your loss of fortune?” -said Mr. Belville, superciliously. “But I forgot the mail came in while -you were riding with Miss Fletcher. Good morning, sir.” - -Tressayle hurried to his room, opened his letters, and found that the -Bank in which he was a large stockholder was broken. In two hours he had -left Saratoga. - - H. J. V. - - * * * * * - - - - - THE INDIAN MAID. - - - A BALLAD. - - SUNG BY MRS. WATSON, - - THE MUSIC ARRANGED BY S. NELSON. - - Geo. W. Hewitt & Co. No. 184 Chesnut Street, Philadelphia. - -[Illustration: musical score] - - Morning’s dawn is in the skies, - Whilst o’er the Mountain height, - Fast the glorious beams arise, - -[Illustration: musical score] - - Hail we their golden light: - Ere the brightness of those rays - Dies on the distant sea, - May the hopes of my young days - Be warm’d to life by thee. - May the hopes of my young days - Be warm’d to life by thee. - - 2 - - Fairest flow’r ’neath eastern skies, - Stor’d in thy peaceful mind - More of wealth for me there lies - Than in the gems of Ind. - Never from thy trusting heart, - Ne’er from thy smiling brow - May the hopes, the peace depart - Which beam upon them now. - - 3 - - Hours and days will wing their flight, - Still never day shall fade; - But I’ll share some new delight - With thee, my Indian maid. - In the passing hour of gloom - Rest thou thy cares on me; - To restore thy pleasure’s bloom, - Will my best guerdon be. - - * * * * * - - - - - SPORTS AND PASTIMES. - - -We have been favored with the Edinburg copy of “The Rod and Gun,” an -excellent work, from the pen of the author of the celebrated “Oakleigh -Shooting Code.” The most important parts of the essay are expanded in -this volume, and many valuable hints to sportsmen, gathered from all -parts of the world, and from the experience of the author, are thrown -in. With this work, the ablest decidedly that has of late years been -given to the sporting world—we propose this month to make somewhat -free, and intend hereafter to push the acquaintance to the utmost verge -of familiarity, and shall present the writer to our readers each month -in form. He will be found to improve, “like good wine upon -acquaintance,” and we feel assured that no good gentleman “and true,” -will fail to appreciate the honor, or to derive valuable and instructive -hints relative to manly exercises, from his conversation. He makes his -own introduction: - -“The wand with which we now desire to charm an enlightened and -discerning public, was first waved some seasons back. We think the butt -end is not much the worse for wear—we have strengthened the mid-pieces, -repaired the top, and given the whole a coat of varnish, hoping that in -the hands of others now more fit for the practice of the gentle art than -we ourselves, it may prove a steady friend and true, whether in still or -troubled waters.” - - * * * * * - - - - - ANGLING. - - -[Illustration: THE PIKE.] - -The pike is in season from May to February, and is most frequently -angled for by trolling with a strong topped rod. The hooks are generally -fastened to a bit of brass wire for a few inches from the shaft, to -prevent the line from being snapped. Different methods are used in -angling for pike. _Trolling_, in the more limited sense of the word, -signifies catching fish with the gorge-hook, which is composed of two, -or what is called a double eel-hook; _live-bait fishing_ is practised -with the aid of a floated line; and _snap-fishing_ consists in the use -of large hooks, so baited as to enable the angler to strike the fish the -moment he feels it bite, immediately after which he drags it _nolens -volens_ ashore. - -Trolling for pike may be practised during the winter months, when trout -fishing has ceased; and the colder season of the year is in fact more -convenient for the sport, owing to the decay or diminution of the weeds -which usually surround their favorite haunts. With the exception of chub -and dace, which bite pretty freely at the bottom all winter, scarcely -any other fish can be relied upon for sport during the more inclement -portion of the year. To bait a gorge-hook, take a baiting-needle, and -hook the curved end to the loop of the gimp, to which the hook is tied. -Then introduce the point of the needle into a dead bait’s mouth, and -bring it out at the middle of the fork of the tail, by which means the -piece of lead which covers the shank of the hook, and part of the -connecting wire, will lie concealed in the interior of the bait: the -shank will be in the inside of its mouth, and the barbs on the outside, -turning upward. To keep the bait steady on the hook, fasten the tail -part just above the fork to the gimp, with a silk or cotton thread; or a -neater method is, to pass the needle and thread through the side of the -bait, about half an inch above the tail, so as encircle the gimp in the -interior. The baits used vary in weight from one to four ounces, and the -hooks must be proportioned to the size of the fish with which they are -baited. The barbs of the hook ought not to project much beyond the sides -of the mouth, because, as the pike generally seizes his prey cross-wise, -and turns it before it is pouched or swallowed, if he feels the points -of the hook he may cast it out entirely. - -[Illustration] - -In trolling for pike, it is advised to keep as far from the water as -possible, and to commence casting close by the near shore, with the wind -blowing from behind. When the water is clear and the weather bright, -some prefer to fish against the wind. “After trying closely,” says Mr. -Salter, “make your next throw farther in the water, and draw and sink -the baited hook, drawing it straight upward near to the surface of the -water, and also to right and left, searching carefully every foot of -water; and draw your bait with the stream, because you must know that -jack and pike lay in wait for food with their heads and eyes pointing up -the stream, to catch what may be coming down; therefore experienced -trollers fish a river or stream down, or obliquely across; but the -inconsiderate as frequently troll against the stream, which is improper, -because they then draw their baited hook behind either jack or pike when -they are stationary, instead of bringing it before his eyes and mouth to -tempt him. _Note._—Be particularly careful, in drawing up or taking the -baited hook out of the water, not to do it too hastily, because you will -find by experience that the jack and pike strike or seize your bait more -frequently when you are drawing it upward than when it is sinking. And -also farther observe, that when drawing your bait upward, if you -occasionally shake the rod, it will cause the bait to spin and twist -about, which is very likely to attract either jack or pike.” - -These fish are partial to the bends of rivers and the bays of lakes, -where the water is shallow, and abounding in weeds, reeds, water lilies, -&c. In fishing with the gorge-hook, when the angler feels a run, he -ought not to strike for several minutes after the fish has become -stationary, lest he pull the bait away before it is fairly pouched. If a -pike makes a very short run, then remains stationary for about a minute, -and again makes one or two short runs, he is probably merely retiring to -some quiet haunt before he swallows the bait; but if, after remaining -still for three or four minutes, he begins to shake the line and move -about, the inference is that he has pouched the bait, and feels some -annoyance from the hook within, then such part of the line as has been -slackened may be wound up, and the fish struck. It is an unsafe practice -to lay down the rod during the interval between a run and the supposed -pouching of the bait, because it not unfrequently happens that a heavy -fish, when he first feels the hooks in his interior, will make a sudden -and most violent rush up the river or along the lake, and the line is -either instantly broken, or is carried, together with both the rod and -reel, for ever beyond the angler’s reach. “When the pike cometh,” says -Colonel Venables, “you may see the water move, at least you may feel -him; then slack your line and give him length enough to run away to his -hold, whither he will go directly, and there pouch it, ever beginning -(as you may observe) with the head, swallowing that first. Thus let him -lye until you see the line move in the water, and then you may certainly -conclude he hath pouched your bait, and rangeth about for more; then -with your trowl wind up your line till you think you have it almost -streight, then with a smart jerk hook him, and make your pleasure to -your content.” - -The fresher and cleaner the bait is kept, whether for trolling, -live-bait, or snap-fishing, the greater is the chance of success. - -[Illustration] - -As pike, notwithstanding their usual voracity, are sometimes, as the -anglers phrase it, more on the play than the feed, they will -occasionally seize the bait across the body, and, instead of swallowing -it, blow it from them repeatedly and then take no farther notice of it. -The skilful and wily angler must instantly convert his gorge into a -snap, and strike him in the lips or jaws when he next attempts such -dangerous amusement. The dead snap may be made either with two or four -hooks. Take about twelve inches of stout gimp, make a loop at one end, -at the other tie a hook (size No. 2,) and about an inch farther up the -gimp tie another hook of the same dimensions; then pass the loop of the -gimp into the gill of a dead bait-fish, and out at its mouth, and draw -the gimp till the hook at the bottom comes just behind the back fin of -the bait, and the point and barb are made to pierce slightly through its -skin, which keeps the whole steady: now pass the ring of a drop-bead -lead over the loop of the gimp, fix the lead inside the bait’s mouth, -and sew the mouth up. This will suffice for the snap with a couple of -hooks. If the four-hooked snap is desired (and it is very killing,) take -a piece of stout gimp about four inches long, and making a loop at one -end, tie a couple of hooks of the same size, and in the same manner as -those before described. After the first two and the lead are in their -places, and previous to the sewing up of the mouth, pass the loop of the -shorter gimp through the opposite gill, and out at the mouth of the -bait; then draw up the hooks till they occupy a position corresponding -to those of the other side: next pass the loop of the longer piece of -gimp through that of the shorter, and pull all straight: finally, tie -the two pieces of gimp together close to the fish’s mouth, and sew the -latter up. - -Some anglers prefer fishing for pike with a floated line and a live -bait. When a single hook is used for this purpose, it is baited in one -or other of the two following ways: Either pass the point and barb of -the hook through the lips of the bait, toward the side of the mouth, or -through beneath the base of the anterior portion of the dorsal fin. When -a double hook is used, take a baiting-needle, hook its curved end into -the loop of the gimp, and pass its point beneath the skin of the bait -from behind the gills upward in a sloping direction, bringing it out -behind the extremity of the dorsal fin; then draw the gimp till the bend -of the hooks are brought to the place where the needle entered, and -attach the loop to the trolling line. Unless a kind of snap-fishing is -intended, the hooks for the above purpose should be of such a size as -that neither the points nor the barbs project beyond either the shoulder -or the belly of the bait. - -Snap-fishing is certainly a less scientific method of angling for pike -than that with the gorge or live-bait; for when the hooks are baited, -the angler casts in search, draws, raises, and sinks his bait, until he -feels a bite. He then strikes strongly and drags or throws his victim on -shore; for there is little fear of his tackle giving way, as that used -in snap-fishing is of the largest and stoutest kind. “This hurried and -unsportsmanlike way of taking fish,” it is observed in the _Troller’s -Guide_, “can only please those who value the game more than the sport -afforded by killing a jack or pike with tackle, which gives the fish a -chance of escaping, and excites the angler’s skill and patience, mixed -with a certain pleasing anxiety, and the reward of his hopes. Neither -has the snap-fisher so good a chance of success, unless he angles in a -pond or piece of water where the jack or pike are very numerous or half -starved, and will hazard their lives for almost any thing that comes in -their way. But in rivers where they are well fed, worth killing, and -rather scarce, the coarse snap-tackle, large hooks, &c. generally alarm -them. On the whole, I think it is two to one against the snap in most -rivers; and if there are many weeds in the water, the large hooks of the -snap, by standing rank, are continually getting foul, damaging the bait, -and causing much trouble and loss of time.” - -Pike sometimes rise at an artificial fly, especially in dark, windy -days. The fly ought to be dressed upon a double hook, and composed of -very gaudy materials. The head is formed of a little fur, some gold -twist, and (if the angler’s taste inclines that way, for it is probably -a matter of indifference to the fish) two small black or blue beads for -eyes. The body is framed rough, full, and round, the wings not parted, -but made to stand upright on the back, with some small feathers -continued down the back to the end of the tail, so that when finished -they may exceed the length of the hook. The whole should be about the -bulk of a wren. - -During clear and calm weather in summer and autumn, pike take most -freely about three in the afternoon: in winter they may be angled for -with equal chances of success during the whole day: early in the -morning, and late in the evening are the periods best adapted for the -spring. - -This fish is also angled for in a variety of ways by fixed or set lines, -and also by trimmers, or liggers, as they are provincially called in -some parts of England. Horsea Mere and Heigham Sound are two large -pieces of water in the county of Norfolk, not far from Yarmouth, noted -for their pike, as partly immortalised in old Camden’s famous lines of -lengthened sweetness long drawn out,— - - “Horsey Pike, - None like.” - -Mr. Yarrell received the following returns from a sporting gentleman, of -four days’ fishing with trimmers in these waters, in the month of March, -1834: viz. on the 11th at Heigham Sounds, 60 pike, weighing 280 pounds; -on the 13th at Horsea Mere, 89 pike, weighing 379 pounds; on the 18th, -again at Horsea Mere, 49 pike, weighing 213 pounds; on the 19th, at -Heigham Sounds, 58 pike, weighing 263 pounds: the four days sport -producing 256 fish, weighing together 1135 pounds. - -As the mode of using trimmers in these extensive _broads_ affords great -diversion, and is rather peculiar, we shall here quote Mr. Yarrell’s -account of it. “I may state that the ligger or trimmer is a long -cylindrical float, made of wood or cork, or rushes tied together at each -end; to the middle of this float a string is fixed, in length from eight -to fifteen feet; this string is wound round the float except two or -three feet, when the trimmer is to be put into the water, and slightly -fixed by a notch in the wood or cork, or by putting it between the ends -of the rushes. The bait is fixed on the hook, and the hook fastened to -the end of the pendent string, and the whole then dropped into the -water. By this arrangement the bait floats at any required depth, which -should have some reference to the temperature of the season,—pike -swimming near the surface in fine warm weather, and deeper when it is -colder, but generally keeping near its peculiar haunts. When the bait is -seized by a pike, the jerk looses the fastening, and the whole string -unwinds,—the wood, cork, or rushes, floating at the top, indicating -what has occurred. Floats of wood or cork are generally painted, to -render them more distinctly visible on the water to the fishers, who -pursue their amusement and the liggers in boats. Floats of rushes are -preferred to others, as least calculated to excite suspicion in the -fish.” - -Pike are occasionally taken in the English lakes above 30 pounds in -weight, and Dr. Grierson mentions one killed in Loch Ken, in Galloway, -which weighed 61 pounds. The color of the young fish is of a greenish -hue, but it afterward becomes rather of a dusky olive brown upon the -upper parts, marked on the sides with mottled green and yellow, and -silvery white on the abdomen. We do not think highly of its flesh, -although by many it is held in some esteem. - - * * * * * - - - - - REVIEW OF NEW BOOKS. - - - _“Mercedes of Castile,” a Romance, by J. Fennimore Cooper. 2 - vols. Lea & Blanchard, 1840._ - -As a history, this work is invaluable: as a novel, it is well nigh -worthless. The author deserves credit for presenting to the public, in a -readable form, so much historical information, with which, otherwise, -the great mass of the community would have never become acquainted; and -he ought, also, to receive proper commendation for having woven that -information in any way whatever, into the narrative of a novel; but at -the same time, if called upon to speak of his work as a romance, and not -as a history, we can neither disguise from ourselves, nor from our -readers, that it is, if possible, the worst novel ever penned by Mr. -Cooper. A hasty sketch of the plot will fully sustain our assertion. - -The work opens with the marriage of Isabella of Castile, and Ferdinand -of Arragon, after which a _hiatus_ occurs of more than twenty-two years. -This, in the first place, is a grand error in the novelist. Had he -commenced his narrative at the siege of Granada at once, we should have -been spared an ungainly excrescence on the very front of the story. We -shall, therefore, consider the novel as beginning properly at an ensuing -chapter. - -The scene opens on the day when the city of Granada is taken possession -of by the Moors; and when Columbus, as a suitor for vessels to carry on -his contemplated discoveries, is almost worn out with seven years of -delay and disappointment. A young Spanish Grandee, called Luis -Bobadilla, wild, adventurous, and fond of roving at sea, happening to be -introduced to him in the crowd, is half persuaded to embark with the -navigator on his dangerous voyage; an inclination which is strengthened -to a firm resolve by his mistress, who, forbidden by Queen Isabella to -marry so roving a nobleman, and thinking that such a voyage would be -taken as a sort of expiation by her sovereign, advises, nay! commands -him to embark with Columbus. The difficulties; the hopes; the final -disappointment, and solitary departure of Columbus, are then faithfully -described, as well as his sudden recall by order of the queen, and her -determination to fit out the expedition from her own purse. This, -however, we pass over, only remarking in passing, that the fiery pursuit -of the young grandee through the Vega after the departing Columbus, and -the scene where he overtakes the dejected navigator, are worthy of the -best passages of the Pioneers, the Water-Witch, or the Last of the -Mohicans. - -The young nobleman, consequently, disguised as a sailor, sails with -Columbus out into the, as then thought, shoreless Atlantic. To describe -this voyage was manifestly the sole object of the author in writing the -work. Availing himself of the journal of the admiral, and mingling just -enough of fiction with the incidents recorded there, to make it -generally readable, Mr. Cooper has succeeded in producing the most -popular, detailed, readable history of that voyage which has yet seen -the light; and for this, we again repeat, he deserves much credit. But -the very preponderance given to the narration of this part of the story, -injures the work, _as a novel_, irremediably. It makes it, in short, -“neither fish, flesh, fowl, nor good red-herring.” - -There is, indeed, an attempt to redeem the interest of the story by the -introduction of an Indian princess, who, of course, falls in love with -Bobadilla, and whom, of course, he does not marry. She, however, -accompanies Luis home to Spain, and is the cause of much jealousy on the -part of his mistress, of much anger on the part of the queen, and of -just sufficient clap-trap in the last few chapters, to satisfy the -conscience of your inveterate novel readers,—a class who think no novel -is good unless it has a pretty strong dose of jealousy, reconcilement, -and marriage, as a _finale_, much as Tony Lumpkin thought “that the -inside of a letter was the cream of the correspondence.” - -In one thing we are disappointed in this novel. We did not look for -character in it, for that is not Cooper’s _forte_: nor did we expect -that his heroine would be aught better than the inanimate thing she -is,—but we did expect he would have given us another of those -magnificent sea-pictures for which, in all their sternness and -sublimity, he is so justly celebrated. We were mistaken. Excepting a -storm, which overtakes the Nina, we have nothing even approaching to the -grandeur of the Pilot and the Red Rover. If Columbus did not figure in -the romance,—and what, after all, has he to do personally with the -denouement?—Mercedes of Castile would be the most tame of romances. Cut -out the historical account of the voyage to San Salvador, by merely -stating in one, instead of a score of chapters, that the hero performed -his penance, and—we stake our grey goose-quill against the copy-right -on it—that not two out of every dozen, who read the novel, will -pronounce it even interesting. - -It is but justice to the author to say that the necessity of adhering -closely to fact in his romance, is the true secret of its want of -interest; for how could any hero, no matter whom, awaken our sympathy -strongly, so long as Columbus figured in the same narrative? Besides, -the voyage which the hero undertakes to win his mistress, being a matter -of history, we are from the first without any curiosity as to its -result—we want, indeed, all that exciting suspense, without which a -novel is worthless. Our author appears to have been aware of this, and -therefore introduces Omenea, and makes Mercedes jealous, and the queen -suspicious, in order to create this suspense. For all the purposes of a -love-story, therefore, the novel might as well have begun toward the -close of the second volume, an introductory chapter merely being -affixed, narrating rapidly the events which, in the present work, are -diluted into a volume and a half. The interest of a romance should -continue, let it be remembered, throughout the whole story; but in -Mercedes of Castile it does not begin until we are about to close the -book. - - * * * * * - - _“American Melodies.” Containing a single selection from the - production of two hundred writers. Compiled by George P. Morris. - For sale by Henry Perkins, Philadelphia._ - -This is one of the prettiest little gift books of the season. The -typography is good as well as the binding. The title of the work has -been the subject of much captious criticism by the herd who are -constantly detecting spots in the sun, and who lack the calibre of -intellect necessary to a manly and liberal criticism of a literary -performance. The selections were originally made of _songs_ set to -music, but as this was found to narrow down, rather much, the limits -assigned for the work, the compiler took a wider range, and included in -the volume pieces _adapted_ to music also. He has been candid enough to -say in the dedication, that in making these selections he has not been -guided so much by the literary worth of the articles, as by their -admission into the musical world. A second volume is already under way, -in which many names of note, necessarily omitted in the first, will be -included. - -The compiler has every reason to congratulate him self upon the happy -performance of his task. A more interesting or valuable little volume -has not been given to the public for many-a-day. If the second is like -unto it, General Morris will have added another to the long list of -obligations which the public owes him, in creating a taste for national -melody. - - * * * * * - - _“French Writers of Eminence.” By Mrs. Shelley, and others. 2 - vols. Lea & Blanchard._ - -This compilation, for it is nothing more—has the merit of presenting -well-known Encyclopædia biographies of French authors, to the general -public, in a cheap and portable form,—thus bringing down much valuable -information within the means of those who could not afford to purchase -the larger and more comprehensive work. The design is praiseworthy. - -The sketches of Rabelais, Racine, Corneille, Moliere, Voltaire, -Rochefoucald, and others, will prove highly interesting to those who -have not perused them before. A more valuable work, when considered -solely as an introduction to French literature, has not, for some time, -been issued from the American press. We would guard our readers, -however, from fancying that Mrs. Shelley was the principal author of -these sketches, as it would neither be truth, nor, in fact, add to her -reputation. - - * * * * * - - _“Poems.” By J. N. McJilton. Boston: Otis, Broaders & Co._ - -This volume is a compilation of pieces, most of which have appeared in -the prominent American Magazines. Many of them were written at the time -the author was connected, as editor, with the Baltimore Literary -Monument. Several pieces in this volume may take a high rank in American -poetry, and all of them do credit to the writer. The work is beautifully -printed. - - * * * * * - - _“The Literary Amaranth of Prose and Poetry.” By N. C. Brooks. - Author of Scripture Anthology, Philadelphia: Kay & Brother._ - -This is chiefly a collection of the fugitive pieces of Mr. Brooks, with -some emendation. Of the talents of the author we have had occasion -before to speak, both in the Magazine and elsewhere. His Scripture -Anthology established his claims as a writer. The work is beautifully -got up, in the annual style, and is worthy of a conspicuous place upon -the centre-table, among the presents of the season. - - * * * * * - -Reviews of the Third Volume of Bancroft’s History of the United States, -of Mrs. Gore’s volume of Tales, and of several of the Annuals, have been -crowded out by our press of matter. We shall, perhaps, be able to notice -Bulwer’s last novel,—Morning and Night,—in our next. - - * * * * * - -[Illustration: THE LATEST FASHIONS, JANUARY 1841, FOR GRAHAM’S -MAGAZINE.] - - * * * * * - -Transcriber’s Notes: - -Table of Contents has been added for reader convenience. Archaic -spellings and hyphenation have been retained. Obvious punctuation and -typesetting errors have been corrected without note. Other errors have -been corrected as noted below. For illustrations, some caption text may -be missing or incomplete due to condition of the originals available for -preparation of the eBook. A cover was created for this eBook and is -placed in the public domain. - -page 22, ancestors where from Germany, ==> ancestors were from Germany, -page 37, vestment died with many colors ==> vestment dyed with many colors -page 47, or the Last of the Mohicians ==> or the Last of the Mohicans - -[End of Graham’s Magazine, Vol. XVIII, No. 1, January 1841, George R. -Graham, Editor] - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Graham's Magazine, Vol. XVIII, No. 1, -January 1841, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE, JANUARY 1841 *** - -***** This file should be named 63639-0.txt or 63639-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/6/3/63639/ - -Produced by Mardi Desjardins & the online Distributed -Proofreaders Canada team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net from -page images generously made available by The Internet -Archive (https://archive.org) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - diff --git a/old/63639-0.zip b/old/63639-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 2a4a7a9..0000000 --- a/old/63639-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63639-h.zip b/old/63639-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index ee3949c..0000000 --- a/old/63639-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63639-h/63639-h.htm b/old/63639-h/63639-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 61013f0..0000000 --- a/old/63639-h/63639-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7285 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> - <title>Graham's Magazine, Vol. XVIII, No. 1, January 1841</title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg"/> - <meta name="cover" content="images/cover.jpg" /> - <meta name="DC.Title" content="Graham's Magazine, Vol. XVIII, No. 1, January 1841"/> - <meta name="DC.Creator" content="George Rex Graham"/> - <meta name="DC.Language" content="en"/> - <meta name="DC.Created" content="1841"/> - <meta name="Pubdate" content="1841"/> - <meta name="DC.Subject" content="periodical, magazine, mixed fiction/nonfiction, poetry, literature, book reviews"/> - <meta name="Tags" content="periodical, magazine, mixed fiction/nonfiction, poetry, literature, book reviews"/> - <meta name="generator" content="fpgen 4.62b"/> - <style type="text/css"> - body { margin-left:8%;margin-right:10%; } - .it { font-style:italic; } - .bold { font-weight:bold; } - .sc { font-variant:small-caps; } - p { text-indent:0; margin-top:0.5em; margin-bottom:0.5em; - text-align: justify; } - div.lgc { } - div.lgl { } - div.lgc p { text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; } - div.lgl p { text-indent: -17px; margin-left:17px; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; } - div.lgp { } - - div.lgp p { - text-align:left; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; - } - - .poetry-container { - display:block; text-align:left; margin-left:2em; - } - - .stanza-inner { - display:inline-block; - } - - .stanza-outer { - page-break-inside: avoid; - } - - .stanza-inner .line0 { - display:inline-block; - } - .stanza-outer .line0 { - display:block; - } - - h1 { - text-align:center; - font-weight:normal; - page-break-before: always; - font-size:1.2em; margin:2em auto 1em auto - } - - h2 { - text-align:center; - font-weight:normal; - font-size:1.1em; - margin:1em auto 0.5em auto; - } - - hr.tbk100{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; width:90%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align:center; margin-left:5%; margin-right:5% } - hr.tbk101{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; width:13%; margin-top:2.5em; margin-bottom:0.5em; text-align:center; margin-left:43%; margin-right:43% } - hr.tbk102{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; width:13%; margin-top:0.5em; margin-bottom:0.5em; text-align:center; margin-left:43%; margin-right:43% } - hr.tbk103{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; width:90%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align:center; margin-left:5%; margin-right:5% } - hr.tbk104{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; width:90%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:1.3em; text-align:center; margin-left:5%; margin-right:5% } - hr.tbk105{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; width:90%; margin-top:1.3em; margin-bottom:1.3em; text-align:center; margin-left:5%; margin-right:5% } - hr.tbk106{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; width:90%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align:center; margin-left:5%; margin-right:5% } - hr.tbk107{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; width:90%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align:center; margin-left:5%; margin-right:5% } - hr.tbk108{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; width:90%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align:center; margin-left:5%; margin-right:5% } - hr.tbk109{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; width:30%; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; text-align:center; margin-left:35%; margin-right:35% } - hr.tbk110{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; width:90%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align:center; margin-left:5%; margin-right:5% } - hr.tbk111{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; width:90%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align:center; margin-left:5%; margin-right:5% } - hr.tbk112{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; width:90%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align:center; margin-left:5%; margin-right:5% } - hr.tbk113{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; width:90%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align:center; margin-left:5%; margin-right:5% } - hr.tbk114{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; width:90%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align:center; margin-left:5%; margin-right:5% } - hr.tbk115{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; width:90%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align:center; margin-left:5%; margin-right:5% } - hr.tbk116{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; width:90%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align:center; margin-left:5%; margin-right:5% } - hr.tbk117{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; width:90%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align:center; margin-left:5%; margin-right:5% } - hr.tbk118{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; width:90%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align:center; margin-left:5%; margin-right:5% } - hr.tbk119{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; width:90%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align:center; margin-left:5%; margin-right:5% } - hr.tbk120{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; width:90%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align:center; margin-left:5%; margin-right:5% } - hr.tbk121{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; width:90%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align:center; margin-left:5%; margin-right:5% } - hr.tbk122{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; width:90%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align:center; margin-left:5%; margin-right:5% } - hr.tbk123{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; width:90%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align:center; margin-left:5%; margin-right:5% } - hr.tbk124{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; width:90%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align:center; margin-left:5%; margin-right:5% } - hr.tbk125{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; width:90%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align:center; margin-left:5%; margin-right:5% } - hr.tbk126{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; width:30%; margin-top:0.5em; margin-bottom:1.5em; text-align:center; margin-left:35%; margin-right:35% } - hr.tbk127{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; width:10%; margin-top:1.5em; margin-bottom:1.5em; text-align:center; margin-left:45%; margin-right:45% } - hr.tbk128{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; width:10%; margin-top:1.5em; margin-bottom:1.5em; text-align:center; margin-left:45%; margin-right:45% } - hr.tbk129{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; width:10%; margin-top:1.5em; margin-bottom:1.5em; text-align:center; margin-left:45%; margin-right:45% } - hr.tbk130{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; width:10%; margin-top:1.5em; margin-bottom:1.5em; text-align:center; margin-left:45%; margin-right:45% } - hr.tbk131{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; width:10%; margin-top:1.5em; margin-bottom:1.5em; text-align:center; margin-left:45%; margin-right:45% } - hr.tbk132{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; width:90%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align:center; margin-left:5%; margin-right:5% } - hr.tbk133{ border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; width:90%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:2em; text-align:center; margin-left:5%; margin-right:5% } - hr.pbk { border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; width:100%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:2em } - .figcenter { - text-align:center; - margin:1em auto; - page-break-inside: avoid; - } - - div.blockquote { margin:1em 2em; text-align:justify; } - p.caption { text-align:center; margin:0 auto; width:100%; } - p.credit { text-align:right; margin:0 auto; width: 100%; } - - .nobreak { page-break-before: avoid; } - p.line { text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; } - div.lgp p.line0 { text-indent:-3em; margin:0 auto 0 3em; } - table.center { margin:0.5em auto; border-collapse: collapse; padding:3px; } - table.flushleft { margin:0.5em 0em; border-collapse: collapse; padding:3px; } - table.left { margin:0.5em 1.2em; border-collapse: collapse; padding:3px; } - .tab1c1 { } - .tab1c2 { } - .tab2c1 { } - .tab2c2 { } - .tab3c1 { } - .tab3c2 { } - .tab3c3 { } - .tab4c1 { } - .tab4c2 { } - .tab4c3 { } - .tab5c1 { } - .tab5c2 { } - .tab5c3 { } - .tab6c1 { } - .tab6c2 { } - .tab6c3 { } - .tab1c1-col2 { border-right: 0px solid black; } - .tab2c1-col2 { border-right: 0px solid black; } - .tab4c1-col3 { border-right: 0px solid black; } - .tab5c1-col3 { border-right: 0px solid black; } - .tab6c1-col3 { border-right: 0px solid black; } - .tdStyle0 { - padding: 0px 5px; text-align:center; vertical-align:top; - } - .tdStyle1 { - padding: 0px 5px; text-align:left; vertical-align:top;padding-left:29px; text-indent:-24px; - } - .tdStyle2 { - padding: 0px 5px; text-align:left; vertical-align:top; - } - .tdStyle3 { - padding: 2px 5px; text-align:left; vertical-align:top;padding-left:29px; text-indent:-24px; - } - .tdStyle4 { - padding: 2px 5px; text-align:right; vertical-align:top; - } - .tdStyle5 { - padding: 2px 5px; text-align:left; vertical-align:top; - } - .tdStyle6 { - padding: 2px 5px; text-align:center; vertical-align:top; - } - .pindent { margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; text-indent:1.5em; } - .noindent { margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; text-indent:0; } - .hang { padding-left:1.5em; text-indent:-1.5em; } - .dramaline { margin-top: 0em; margin-bottom: 0; text-indent: 0em; padding-left: 2.4em } - .dramaline-cont { margin-top: .8em; margin-bottom: 0; text-indent: 0em; padding-left: 2.4em } - .dramastart { min-height: 1px; } - .verse-align { visibility:hidden; } - .verse-align-inline { position:absolute; text-indent:0; } - .verse-align-noindent { visibility:hidden; margin-left:1.2em; } - .literal-container { text-align:center; margin:0 0; } - .literal { display:inline-block; text-align:left; } - </style> - <style type="text/css"> - h1 { font-size: 1.3em; font-weight:bold;} - .pindent {margin-top: 0.25em; margin-bottom: 0em;} - .poetry-container { margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em } - </style> - </head> - <body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Graham's Magazine, Vol. XVIII, No. 1, -January 1841, by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Graham's Magazine, Vol. XVIII, No. 1, January 1841 - -Author: Various - -Editor: George R. Graham - -Release Date: November 5, 2020 [EBook #63639] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE, JANUARY 1841 *** - - - - -Produced by Mardi Desjardins & the online Distributed -Proofreaders Canada team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net from -page images generously made available by The Internet -Archive (https://archive.org) - - - - - - -</pre> - -<div class='figcenter'> -<img src='images/cover.jpg' alt='' id='iid-0000' style='width:50%;height:auto;'/> -</div> - -<p class='line0' style='text-align:center;margin-top:1.5em;font-size:1.9em;font-weight:bold;page-break-before: avoid;'>GRAHAM’S MAGAZINE.</p> - -<p class='line0' style='text-align:center;margin-top:1.5em;font-size:1.2em;font-weight:bold;'><span class='sc'>Vol. XVIII.</span> January, 1841. No. 1.</p> - -<p class='line0' style='text-align:center;margin-top:1.5em;margin-bottom:1em;font-size:1.2em;font-weight:bold;'>Contents</p> - -<table id='tab1' summary='' class='center'> -<colgroup> -<col span='1' style='width: 25em;'/> -<col span='1' style='width: 1em;'/> -</colgroup> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tab1c1-col2 tdStyle0' colspan='2'><span class='bold'><span style='font-size:larger'>Fiction, Literature and Articles</span></span></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#lost'>The Lost Evening</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#yoo'>Yoo-Ti-Hu</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#lawyer'>Leaves from a Lawyer’s Port-Folio</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#prog'>My Progenitors</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#blind'>The Blind Girl</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#reefer'>The Reefer of ’76</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#syr'>The Syrian Letters</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#clar'>Clara Fletcher</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#sport'>Sports and Pastimes</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#ang'>Angling</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#rev'>Review of New Books</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -</table> - -<table id='tab2' summary='' class='center'> -<colgroup> -<col span='1' style='width: 25em;'/> -<col span='1' style='width: 1em;'/> -</colgroup> -<tr><td class='tab2c1 tab2c1-col2 tdStyle0' colspan='2'><span class='bold'><span style='font-size:larger'>Poetry, Music and Fashion</span></span></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#ramb'>The Young Rambler</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#lethe'>The Waters of Lethe</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#lang'>Language of the Wild Flowers</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#sold'>A Soldier’s the Lad for Me</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#pine'>To the Pine on the Mountain</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#sbell'>Sabbath Bells.—Impromptu</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#asea'>A Sea Scene</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#thine2'>Thine—Only Thine</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#maid'>The Indian Maid</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#late'>The Latest Fashions, January 1841</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle1'></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'> </td></tr> -</table> - -<p class='line0' style='text-align:center;'><a href='#notes'>Transcriber’s Notes</a> can be found at the end of this eBook.</p> - -<hr class='tbk100'/> - -<div class='lgc' style='page-break-before: always;'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line0' style='margin-top:1em;font-size:1.5em;font-weight:bold;'>GRAHAM’S</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line0' style='margin-top:1.3em;font-size:1.3em;font-weight:bold;'>LADY’S AND GENTLEMAN’S</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line0' style='margin-top:1em;font-size:2em;font-weight:bold;'>MAGAZINE.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line0' style='margin-top:1em;'>(THE CASKET AND GENTLEMAN’S UNITED.)</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line0' style='font-size:0.9em;'>EMBRACING</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line0' style='margin-top:1em;'>EVERY DEPARTMENT OF LITERATURE:</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line0' style='font-size:0.9em;'>EMBELLISHED WITH</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line0'>ENGRAVINGS, FASHIONS, AND MUSIC,</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line0' style='font-size:0.9em;'>ARRANGED FOR THE</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line0' style='font-size:0.9em;'>PIANO-FORTE, HARP, AND GUITAR.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<hr class='tbk101'/> -<p class='line0' style='font-size:1.3em;'>VOLUME XVIII.</p> -<hr class='tbk102'/> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line0' style='margin-top:2em;'>PHILADELPHIA:</p> -<p class='line0' style='font-size:1.2em;'>GEORGE R. GRAHAM.</p> -<p class='line0'>1841.</p> -</div> <!-- end rend --> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<div class='lgc' style='page-break-before: always;'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<p class='line0' style='margin-top:2em;font-size:1.5em;font-weight:bold;'>INDEX</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line0' style='font-size:0.9em;font-weight:bold;'>TO THE</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line0' style='font-size:1.2em;font-weight:bold;'>EIGHTEENTH VOLUME.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line0' style='margin-bottom:1em;font-size:1.2em;font-weight:bold;'>FROM JANUARY, TO JUNE, 1841, INCLUSIVE.</p> -</div> <!-- end rend --> - -<table id='tab3' summary='' class='center'> -<colgroup> -<col span='1' style='width: 28em;'/> -<col span='1' style='width: 7.5em;'/> -<col span='1' style='width: 0.5em;'/> -</colgroup> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Alchymist, the, by Mrs. <span class='sc'>Lambert</span>,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>105</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Blind Girl, the, by Mrs. <span class='sc'>C. Durang</span>,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>26</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Blind Girl of Pompeii, the, (<span class='it'>illustrated</span>),</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>49</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Clara Fletcher,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>40</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Confessions of a Miser, the, by <span class='sc'>J. Ross Browne</span>,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>83, 102, 189</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Clothing of the Ancients, the, by <span class='sc'>Willam Duane</span>, Jr.</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>269</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Destroyer’s Doom, the,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>115</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Defaulter, the, by <span class='sc'>J. T. Maull</span>,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>164</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Descent into the Maelström, a, by <span class='sc'>Edgar A. Poe</span>,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>235</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Empress, the,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>122</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Father’s Blessing, the, by Mrs. <span class='sc'>S. A. Whelpley</span>,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>132</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Grandmother’s Tankard, my, by <span class='sc'>Jesse E. Dow</span>,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>59</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Grandfather’s Story, my, by <span class='sc'>Lydia Jane Pierson</span>,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>217</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Haunted Castle, the, a Legend of the Rhine,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>214</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Island of the Fay, the, by <span class='sc'>Edgar A. Poe</span>, (<span class='it'>illustrated</span>,)</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>253</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Lost Evening, the, by <span class='sc'>Jesse E. Dow</span>,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>2</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Leaves from a Lawyer’s Port-Folio,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>13, 224</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Lady Isabel, the, (<span class='it'>illustrated</span>,)</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>97, 145</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Lost Heir, the, by <span class='sc'>H. J. Vernon</span>,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>261</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Life Guardsman, the, by <span class='sc'>Jesse E. Dow</span>,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>275</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>My Progenitors, by <span class='sc'>S. W. Whelpley</span>, A. M.</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>21</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Maiden’s Adventure, the,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>109</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Major’s Wedding, the, by <span class='sc'>Jeremy Short</span>, Esq.</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>129</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Murders in the Rue Morgue, the, by <span class='sc'>Edgar A. Poe</span>,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>166</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>May-Day. A Rhapsody, by <span class='sc'>Jeremy Short</span>, Esq.</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>242</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Our Bill, by Mrs. <span class='sc'>Lambert</span>,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>150</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Outlaw Lover, the, by <span class='sc'>J. H. Dana</span>,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>189</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Parsonage Gathering, the, by Mrs. <span class='sc'>E. C. Stedman</span>,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>221</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Poetry: the Uncertainty of its Appreciation, by <span class='sc'>Joseph Evans Snodgrass</span>,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>288</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Reefer of ’76, the, by the <span class='sc'>Author of “Cruizing in the Last War,”</span></td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>30, 51, 125, 180, 210, 256</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Review of New Books,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>47, 92, 142, 197, 248, 294</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Rescued Knight, the,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>64</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Syrian Letters, the,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>36, 78, 265</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Sports and Pastimes,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>44, 90, 140, 196, 246, 292</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Silver Digger, the, by <span class='sc'>M. Topham Evans</span>,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>68</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Saccharineous Philosophy, the,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>81</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Sketch from Life, a, by <span class='sc'>J. Tomlin</span>,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>136</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Self-Devotion, by Mrs. <span class='sc'>E. C. Embury</span>,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>159</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Thunder Storm, the, by <span class='sc'>J. H. Dana</span>,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>285</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Unequally Yoked, by Rev. <span class='sc'>J. Kennaday</span>,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>159</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Ugolino. A Tale of Florence, by <span class='sc'>M. Topham Evans</span>,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>279</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Worth and Wealth: or the Choice of a Wife, by <span class='sc'>Ellen Ashton</span>,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>206</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'>Yoo-ti-hu, by <span class='sc'>J. Ross Browne</span>,</td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'>10</td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab3c1 tdStyle3'></td><td class='tab3c2 tdStyle4'> </td><td class='tab3c3 tdStyle5'> </td></tr> -</table> - -<table id='tab4' summary='' class='center'> -<colgroup> -<col span='1' style='width: 28em;'/> -<col span='1' style='width: 7.5em;'/> -<col span='1' style='width: 0.5em;'/> -</colgroup> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tab4c1-col3 tdStyle6' colspan='3'><span class='bold'><span style='font-size:larger'>POETRY.</span></span></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'></td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'> </td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>A Soldier’s the Lad for me, by <span class='sc'>A. McMakin</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>25</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>April Day, an, by <span class='sc'>Alex. A. Irvine</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>179</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Æolian Harp, to the,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>179</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Alethe, by <span class='sc'>J. S. Freligh</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>216</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Brilliant Nor-West, the, by Dr. <span class='sc'>J. K. Mitchell</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>149</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>“Blue-Eyed Lassie,” to the, by the late <span class='sc'>J. G. Brooks</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>223</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Callirhöe, by <span class='sc'>H. Perceval</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>100</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Comparisons, by <span class='sc'>C. West Thompson</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>165</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Chimes of Antwerp, the, by <span class='sc'>J. Hickman</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>192</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Dream of the Delaware, the,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>56</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Departed, the,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>128</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Dusty White Rose, the, by Mrs. <span class='sc'>Volney E. Howard</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>209</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Fairy’s Home, the,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>87</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>I am your Prisoner, by <span class='sc'>Thos. Dunn English</span>, M. D.</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>135</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Invitation, the, by <span class='sc'>E. G. Mallery</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>137</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>I Cling to Thee, by <span class='sc'>T. G. Spear</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>234</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Joys of Former Years have Fled, the, by <span class='sc'>S. A. Raybold</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>289</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>June, by <span class='sc'>A. A. Irvine</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>287</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Language of Wild Flowers, by <span class='sc'>Thos. Dunn English</span>, M. D.</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>20</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Little Children, by Mrs. <span class='sc'>C. H. W. Esling</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>67</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Lines, by <span class='sc'>E. Clementine Stedman</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>114</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Lake George,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>124</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Life, by <span class='sc'>Martin Thayer</span>, Jr.</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>243</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Lay of the Affections, the, by Mrs. <span class='sc'>M. S. B. Dana</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>268</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Lord Byron, to, by <span class='sc'>R. M. Walsh</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>273</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Mother’s Pride, the, by Mrs. <span class='sc'>C. H. W. Esling</span>, (<span class='it'>illustrated</span>),</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>205</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Not Lost, but Gone before, by <span class='sc'>Chas. West Thompson</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>87</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Napoleon, by <span class='sc'>J. E. Dow</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>113</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Old Memories, by Mrs. <span class='sc'>C. H. W. Esling</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>188</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Old Rock, to an, by <span class='sc'>G. G. Foster</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>223</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Pine on the Mountain, to the, by <span class='sc'>Lydia Jane Pierson</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>29</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Picture, a, by Mrs. <span class='sc'>M. S. B. Dana</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>158</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Sabbath Bells, Impromptu, by <span class='sc'>Willis G. Clark</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>35</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Sea Scene, a, by <span class='sc'>Robert Morris</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>35</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Skating, by <span class='sc'>George Lunt</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>77</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Soul’s Destiny, the, by Mrs. <span class='sc'>M. S. B. Dana</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>80</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Slighted Woman, a, by the <span class='sc'>Author of “Howard Pinckney</span>,”</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>156</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Soliloquy of an Octogenarian, by <span class='sc'>Pliney Earle</span>, M. D.</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>241</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Sighs for the Unattainable, by <span class='sc'>Charles West Thompson</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>264</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Sonnet written in April, by Mrs. <span class='sc'>E. C. Stedman</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>278</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Thine—Only Thine, by Mrs. <span class='sc'>C. H. W. Esling</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>39</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Time’s Changes, by <span class='sc'>John W. Forney</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>260</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Voice of the Spring Time, by <span class='sc'>Martin Thayer</span>, Jr.</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>209</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Voice of the Wind, the, by <span class='sc'>Emma</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>255</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Waters of Lethe, the, by <span class='sc'>N. C. Brooks</span>, A. M.</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>9</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Winter, by <span class='sc'>J. W. Forney</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>82</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Winter Scene, a, by Mrs. <span class='sc'>E. C. Stedman</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>163</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Winter Scene, a, by <span class='sc'>L. J. Pierson</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>192</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'>Young Rambler, the, by <span class='sc'>Thomas J. Spear</span>,</td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'>1</td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab4c1 tdStyle3'></td><td class='tab4c2 tdStyle4'> </td><td class='tab4c3 tdStyle5'> </td></tr> -</table> - -<table id='tab5' summary='' class='center'> -<colgroup> -<col span='1' style='width: 28em;'/> -<col span='1' style='width: 7.5em;'/> -<col span='1' style='width: 0.5em;'/> -</colgroup> -<tr><td class='tab5c1 tab5c1-col3 tdStyle6' colspan='3'><span class='bold'><span style='font-size:larger'>STEEL ENGRAVINGS.</span></span></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab5c1 tdStyle3'></td><td class='tab5c2 tdStyle4'> </td><td class='tab5c3 tdStyle5'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab5c1 tdStyle3'>The Playmates.</td><td class='tab5c2 tdStyle4'></td><td class='tab5c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab5c1 tdStyle3'>Fashions for January (three figures) colored.</td><td class='tab5c2 tdStyle4'></td><td class='tab5c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab5c1 tdStyle3'>The Blind Girl of Pompeii.</td><td class='tab5c2 tdStyle4'></td><td class='tab5c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab5c1 tdStyle3'>Fashions for February (four figures) colored.</td><td class='tab5c2 tdStyle4'></td><td class='tab5c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab5c1 tdStyle3'>Why don’t he Come?</td><td class='tab5c2 tdStyle4'></td><td class='tab5c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab5c1 tdStyle3'>Fashions for March (three figures) colored.</td><td class='tab5c2 tdStyle4'></td><td class='tab5c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab5c1 tdStyle3'>He Comes.</td><td class='tab5c2 tdStyle4'></td><td class='tab5c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab5c1 tdStyle3'>Fashions for April (four figures) colored.</td><td class='tab5c2 tdStyle4'></td><td class='tab5c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab5c1 tdStyle3'>The Mother’s Pride.</td><td class='tab5c2 tdStyle4'></td><td class='tab5c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab5c1 tdStyle3'>Fashions for May. Ladies of Queen Victoria’s Court—correct likenesses—(seven figures) colored.</td><td class='tab5c2 tdStyle4'></td><td class='tab5c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab5c1 tdStyle3'>The Island of the Fay.</td><td class='tab5c2 tdStyle4'></td><td class='tab5c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab5c1 tdStyle3'>Fashions for June, (three figures) colored.</td><td class='tab5c2 tdStyle4'></td><td class='tab5c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab5c1 tdStyle3'></td><td class='tab5c2 tdStyle4'> </td><td class='tab5c3 tdStyle5'> </td></tr> -</table> - -<table id='tab6' summary='' class='center'> -<colgroup> -<col span='1' style='width: 28em;'/> -<col span='1' style='width: 7.5em;'/> -<col span='1' style='width: 0.5em;'/> -</colgroup> -<tr><td class='tab6c1 tab6c1-col3 tdStyle6' colspan='3'><span class='bold'><span style='font-size:larger'>MUSIC.</span></span></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab6c1 tdStyle3'></td><td class='tab6c2 tdStyle4'> </td><td class='tab6c3 tdStyle5'> </td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab6c1 tdStyle3'>The Indian Maid, by <span class='sc'>S. Nelson</span>,</td><td class='tab6c2 tdStyle4'>42</td><td class='tab6c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab6c1 tdStyle3'>Not for Me! Not for Me! by <span class='sc'>M. W. Balfe</span>,</td><td class='tab6c2 tdStyle4'>88</td><td class='tab6c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab6c1 tdStyle3'>You never knew Annette, by <span class='sc'>C. M. Sola</span>,</td><td class='tab6c2 tdStyle4'>138</td><td class='tab6c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab6c1 tdStyle3'>Oh! Gentle Love, by <span class='sc'>T. Cooke</span>,</td><td class='tab6c2 tdStyle4'>193</td><td class='tab6c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab6c1 tdStyle3'>The Sweet Birds are Singing, by <span class='sc'>J. Moschelles</span>,</td><td class='tab6c2 tdStyle4'>244</td><td class='tab6c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab6c1 tdStyle3'>Let Me Rest in the Land of my Birth, by <span class='sc'>J. Harroway</span>,</td><td class='tab6c2 tdStyle4'>290</td><td class='tab6c3 tdStyle5'></td></tr> -<tr><td class='tab6c1 tdStyle3'></td><td class='tab6c2 tdStyle4'> </td><td class='tab6c3 tdStyle5'> </td></tr> -</table> - -<hr class='pbk'/> - -<div class='figcenter'> -<img src='images/i007.jpg' alt='' id='iid-0001' style='width:100%;height:auto;'/> -<p class='caption'><span style='font-size:smaller'>Painted by J. Lucas.</span> <span style='font-size:smaller'>Engraved by J. Sartain.</span><br/></p> <br/><span class='it'>The Playmates.</span><br/> <p class='caption'><span style='font-size:smaller'>Engraved for Graham’s Magazine</span></p> -</div> - -<hr class='tbk103'/> - -<p class='line0' style='text-align:center;margin-top:1.5em;font-size:1.9em;font-weight:bold;page-break-before: always;'>GRAHAM’S MAGAZINE.</p> - -<hr class='tbk104'/> - -<p class='line0' style='text-align:center;font-size:1.2em;font-weight:bold;'><span class='sc'>Vol.</span> XVIII. JANUARY, 1841. <span class='sc'>No. 1.</span></p> - -<hr class='tbk105'/> - -<div><h1 class='nobreak'><a id='ramb'></a>THE YOUNG RAMBLER.</h1></div> - -<p class='line0' style='text-align:center;'>———</p> -<p class='line0' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY THOMAS G. SPEAR</p> -<p class='line0' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>O’er a landscape array’d in the verdure of June,</p> -<p class='line0'>While the sky was serene, and the birds were in tune,</p> -<p class='line0'>From his vine-cover’d home, with his dog and his toy,</p> -<p class='line0'>Went the glad-hearted youth in the hey-day of joy.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>He saunter’d away in his quest of delight,</p> -<p class='line0'>As heedless of rest as a bird in its flight,</p> -<p class='line0'>Allur’d by the flowers, and sooth’d by the gale,</p> -<p class='line0'>O’er the green-sloping hill and the fair sunny vale.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>With a fondness to roam, and a wish to be free,</p> -<p class='line0'>He bounded in triumph, or whistled in glee,</p> -<p class='line0'>Now crushing a blossom, or plucking a bough,</p> -<p class='line0'>Or climbing a tree by the cliff’s rugged brow.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>With his dog at his side, o’er the heather he flew,</p> -<p class='line0'>Where the clover-bed bloom’d, or the strawberry grew,</p> -<p class='line0'>And trampled the grass that encumber’d the plain,</p> -<p class='line0'>While flutter’d the flock from the clustering grain.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>He knew the lone spots of the forest and glen,</p> -<p class='line0'>The rook of the crow, and the nest of the wren,</p> -<p class='line0'>And hied as a forager there for his prey,</p> -<p class='line0'>But left the wood-tenants unharm’d in their play.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>By hedge-row, and brushwood, and briar, and brake,</p> -<p class='line0'>To the pebble-shor’d brook, and the wild-wooded lake,</p> -<p class='line0'>He rov’d, while the pathway was leafy and green,</p> -<p class='line0'>Where bow’d the old oaks o’er the silvery scene.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>And there by the brookside, when tir’d of play,</p> -<p class='line0'>He gazed on the charms of the slow-dying day,</p> -<p class='line0'>And thought, as it gave to some lovelier land,</p> -<p class='line0'>The blaze of that light which the zenith had spann’d,</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>That a ray there must be to illumine the heart—</p> -<p class='line0'>A guide and a goal for man’s innermost part—</p> -<p class='line0'>A Glory unknown, to be follow’d and bless’d,</p> -<p class='line0'>That again would recall what it gave to its breast.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>When Love can a lustre so beautiful shed,</p> -<p class='line0'>It were sad if the soul could be lost or misled,</p> -<p class='line0'>Or its flight to its source be less cheerful and bright,</p> -<p class='line0'>Than the blaze of that sun ’neath the curtains of night.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>With the lovely illusions of day’s mellow’d scene,</p> -<p class='line0'>All around him was radiant, and vocal, and green,</p> -<p class='line0'>But now as he gaz’d on the sky and the air,</p> -<p class='line0'>No melody rose, and no splendour was there.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“Oh! keep me,” he said, “in the path where I stray,</p> -<p class='line0'>Illum’d by the warmth of some soul-cheering ray—</p> -<p class='line0'>That my glance may be clear thro’ the cloud and the storm,</p> -<p class='line0'>When the night of the grave has o’ershadow’d my form.”</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>He look’d as a child, but he felt as a man,</p> -<p class='line0'>And in Wisdom concluded what Folly began;</p> -<p class='line0'>Then in silence his steps he was fain to resume,</p> -<p class='line0'>Ere the shadowy fall of the thick-coming gloom.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>Soon up from the shore, and away from the stream,</p> -<p class='line0'>He wended as one that was wak’d from a dream,</p> -<p class='line0'>For the voice of a thought had been heard in his heart,</p> -<p class='line0'>And the lingering whisper was slow to depart.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>His vine-cover’d home in the twilight was nigh,</p> -<p class='line0'>And the whipporwill sending its plaint to the sky,</p> -<p class='line0'>And the bark of his dog, and the voice at the door,</p> -<p class='line0'>He welcom’d with joy when his ramble was o’er.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>Though dear to his vision that forest-bound scene,</p> -<p class='line0'>With its dwelling of peace on a carpet of green,</p> -<p class='line0'>The wild spot his memory loves to restore,</p> -<p class='line0'>Is the path to that stream, and the oak by its shore.</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<hr class='tbk106'/> - -<div><h1><a id='lost'></a>THE LOST EVENING.</h1></div> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p> -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY JESSE E. DOW.</p> -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p> - -<div class='blockquote'> - -<p class='pindent'>“There is a tide in the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.”</p> - -</div> - -<p class='pindent'>“Maurice stay and go with me to the ball at -Mrs. Wilson’s this evening,” said a fairy formed -creature with eyes that sparkled with anticipated -delight, as she rested her hand upon a young naval -officer’s arm and gazed upon his manly features.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Mary, dearest Mary,” replied the young man -in a hesitating manner. “The stage will leave -here at eleven to-night, and if I miss it I shall lose -my only chance of reaching my Frigate. She is -under sailing orders—and will be off in the twinkling -of a marline spike, and there’s glory to be -won and——”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“A seaman’s sepulchre—” said the lovely girl, -as the tears started into her eyes and glittered like -tiny pearls upon her long dark eye-lashes.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“But Maurice, you can go at eleven and accompany -me to the ball beside. The last evening you -spend at Belleview should be spent with your friends.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The young man hesitated no longer. “Mary,” -said he, “you have conquered, I will accompany -you to Mrs. Wilson’s and leave at eleven—I shall -then bear with me your last impression; and when -the tempest howls and the billows toss their snowy -spray around me, when the never wearied Petril -sings in the hollows of ocean astern, and the thunder -awakes the echo of the deep—then while the -good ship scuds along her lightning way, will I -recall this evening of light and beauty, and with my -dread-nought wrapped about me, keep my midnight -watch, happier far, than the lazy commodore who -snores in a velvet night-cap in his luxurious cabin.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Well, Maurice, you have finished at last,” said -the laughing girl leaning upon his arm, “I never -expected to hear the end of your rhapsody when -you commenced—but come let us go in for I have -much to do and the evening approaches.” The -young man returned her animated glance with a -gaze of deep devotion and following her, entered the -house from the garden Verandah. There was no -one in the drawing-room when Maurice Fitzgerald -and Mary Howard entered.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Maurice,” said the young maiden as she pointed -out upon the ocean, and then turned to a table of -magazines and annuals, “Nature and art are placed -before you, and I shall leave you to be amused by -them until my father’s return.” Thus saying, the -light hearted girl bounded away to dress for the -coming rout. Fitzgerald answered with a smile -and then turned to gaze upon the prospect that -spread out before his uncle’s mansion. The broad -Atlantic was seen for several miles rolling in the -crimson light of the setting sun, and the hollow -roar of its distant breakers burst upon his ear. The -sea-birds in forked trains were seen winging their -garrulous flight toward the land, and the successful -fishermen were casting their scaly spoil upon the -beach. It was a quiet evening, notwithstanding the -wind in cat’s paws ruffled the surface of the deep, -and wailed sadly amid the branches of the elm trees -that lined the avenue in front of the mansion.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>As Fitzgerald gazed upon the scene he thought -of his lovely cousin and then of the glorious profession -that he had chosen. The eye of the mariner -loves the ocean. His ear delights in its hollow -murmurs, its lashing surges, its misty shadows, -and its constant motion. He feels that the land is -not for him and that his home is on the deep, deep -sea. He sickens in the forest. He grows weary -upon the mountain side, the fairest valley smiles in -vain for him, and the babbling river but carries him -away to that mightier deep whose ebb and flood -surrounds the world. The very air—the scent of -the sea is far more pleasant to him than the spicy -breezes that sigh o’er India’s isles, and the stout -ship with its tar and rope-yarn, its salt junk, called -by sea-men mahogany, and its duff puddings that -defy the tooth of time, is far more agreeable to him -than the altar’d palace of an eastern prince with -tables crushing beneath the weight of costly viands -and richest wines. No one can appreciate the -beauty and majesty of the heavens but him who -has been shut out from every other prospect for -days and weeks together. How beautiful it is to -lean upon the taffrail in a moonlight night upon an -eastern sea while the sails of the gallant ship -from sky to water are gently filled by the dying -Levanter, and watch the broad bright moon as she -travels up the high way of heaven and sheds a -brighter lustre upon the stars. Then the eye penetrates, -aye even into the deep blue space beyond her -and as when gazing upon the calm bosom of the -middle ocean sees naught but mysterious shadowings—a -waving curtain of eternal blue.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The topsails of a ship now flashed upon the edge -of the horizon, the quick eye of Fitzgerald soon -discovered her to be a vessel of war. He watched -her with intense interest, and as she approached the -land the sun went down to his rest in the deep.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>As the last ray of the golden orb flashed upon -the vessel, Fitzgerald saw plainly that the Cross of -Saint George floated at her ensign peak and that -she was an enemy of his country. The stranger -having drawn in sufficiently near to the land, now -tacked, and in the uncertain haze of evening, faded -away.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I will be the first to communicate the glad tidings -to my commander,” said the young officer, -proudly; “and ere many days the haughty Briton -shall humble himself to the stars of the republic.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Well said, my gallant boy,” cried Col. Howard, -as he hobbled up to his future son-in-law, who -started like one awakened from a glorious dream.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Uncle,” said Fitzgerald with a smile, “I did not -hear you enter.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“No matter, boy,” said the old soldier, as he -screwed his features into the proper expression for -a severe twinge of the gout, and stood silent for a -moment, and then as the pain <span class='it'>evaporated</span>, continued, -“I heard you and am pleased with your thoughts; -you must leave this evening.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Certainly,” said Fitzgerald, smiling.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The tea urn was now brought in, and the family -of Colonel Howard assembled around the well -spread table. A short blessing interrupted by a -few short pishes and pshaws! on account of the -severe pains that constantly seized the old gentleman’s -leg, was now said by him; and then the -evening meal was quietly and systematically disposed -of. Sage surmises as to the course of the -belligerent stranger, and sager speculations as to -the result of her meeting with an American cruizer, -now occupied the thoughts and conversational -powers of the little party; at length Colonel Howard -began to grow drowsy. His arm chair was -now wheeled to the right about—he gave his blessing -to his nephew with a good will, grasped his -hand with the frankness of a soldier, and bade him -adieu; then bringing his crutch to the third position -of the manual, he went to sleep. Soon the young -couple heard the old man muttering in his visions -of the revolution, “on to Princeton—ha, there -goes Knox, I know his fire—onward my boys—huzza, -they fly—the day is ours,” and then a twinge -of the gout played the deuce with his dream, and -when it past away he slumbered as sweetly as a -child upon its mother’s breast. Fitzgerald and -Mary now departed for Mrs. Wilson’s, the former -having taken his baggage in the carriage, so as to be -ready to step from the ball room to the stage-coach.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Mrs. Wilson was one of those comets of fashion -who regularly appear with every cycle of time, and -who after setting the cities in a blaze, retire to the -inland towns to renew their fires, and shine forth -as planets of the first magnitude amid inferior stars; -believing it to be better to be the head of a village -than the tail of a city. It was currently reported -by scandalising spinsters that she had been a milliner -in England, and having a handsome person -was hired by the manager of a country theatre, -there to act the <span class='it'>goddess</span> in the play of Cherry and -Fair Star. Here she entrapped the affections of a -young nobleman, who by a mock marriage became -her reputed husband. The honey moon soon passed -away, and with the realities of wedded life, -came the astounding <span class='it'>denouement</span> that the nobleman’s -coachman had officiated as chaplain on the -occasion, and that the marriage was a humbug. -This was a downfall to Mrs. Wilson, but she had -no help excepting to marry the butler of his lordship, -a man of considerable wealth, and emigrate -to America. His lordship was generous on the -occasion: and the honest butler found himself with -a wife, an estate, and an heir presumptive, all at -the same moment. Having money and a handsome -person, the beautiful and well dressed Mrs. Wilson -soon imposed herself upon an aristocratic family in -New York as a branch of a noble stock in England. -Mr. Wilson, it may be proper to observe, -died on his passage, and Mrs. Wilson was a widow -when she made the highlands of Neversink.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>There is over all those stale meat pies, ycleped -large cities, a self-styled upper crust that rises in -puffs above the solids. It rejects every thing that -is not as light and as trifling as itself, and to say -the least of it, has but little virtue or consistency. -It covers the virtues and the vices of the social -compact, and smothers in <span class='it'>flour</span> and <span class='it'>paste</span> the unhappy -genius who endeavors to penetrate it. As -nothing was made in vain, perhaps this self-important -crust, like the web of the spider, was -designed to catch the painted and gilded drones, -whose presence and senseless buzzing might otherwise -have disturbed the working party of mankind -at their labors, and have caused them to leave the -world to starve. To this upper stratum of society -in New York, Mrs. Wilson was introduced by her -new made friends, and she continued in the ascendent -for three months, but unfortunately for human -greatness, one evening at a large and fashionable -rout, a noble marquis was announced, who to the -astonishment of every person present exclaimed, as -he was presented to Mrs. Wilson, “Poll Johnson -are you here, when did you leave the millinary -line?” This was sufficient—the party broke up -in confusion, as though a case of plague had occurred -in the <span class='it'>circle</span>. Mrs. Wilson fainted, and was -sent home in a hack as a bundle of soiled linen is -sent to the washerwomen, duly marked and numbered -upon the outside; and the aristocratic family -who had been imposed upon by her, went through -with a three weeks’ purification at Saratoga Springs, -whence they returned with a sin offering, in the -shape of a real nobleman—a perfect simpleton of -a count—whose soul lay in whiskers, and whose -heart was in bottle green.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Mrs. Wilson, like the jack daw, stripped of borrowed -plumes, left New York in great haste, and -settled upon a country farm near Belleview, where -at the opening of my sketch she reigned mistress of -the ton.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>As Mary Howard and Fitzgerald entered the -saloon, a number of light footed creatures preceded -by the super-human Mrs. W. came sailing -across the room to meet them.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The ball had commenced, and numbers were -dancing to a tune which was then in vogue, and -which had been made for these words—</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“Come list to me a minute,</p> -<p class='line0'>A song I’m going to begin it,</p> -<p class='line0'>There’s something serious in it,</p> -<p class='line0'>’Tis all about the Law,</p> -<p class='line0'>L!——A!——W!——law!</p> -<p class='line0'>Has got a deuce of a claw.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>Here the ladies all curtesied to the gentlemen, -and the gentlemen all bowed to the ladies, and all -continued for five seconds looking in their partners -faces with pendent arms, straight under-pinnings, -body and breast bent into a half circle, and head -erect—</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>Like some brass God of Heathen make</p> -<p class='line0'>       In shape unheard of——;</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='noindent'>but as soon as the note expressive of the word -<span class='it'>claw</span> was ended, which in the language of Milton, -was like</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“Linked sweetness long drawn out;”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='noindent'>every body like an unstrung bow, resumed its -straight position, and then such a double shuffle -commenced as bade defiance to the most agile of -the monkeys of Paraguay, and would have caused -a mutiny in the lodge of the Upper Mandans had -the dance been introduced there by the incomparable -Mrs. Wilson.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The ball went on in its vigor—small talk and -sour lemonade, with some of the thinnest slices of -smoked beef, between two equally thin slices of -bread, oiled on one side, and patted down on the -other, filled up the interstices of the evening, and -the company were as amiable and as ceremonious -as possible.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>A young gentleman in checkered pantaloons, and -a bottle green coat, with a spotted cravat, and a -retiring dickey around his neck, now approached -Miss Howard and her cousin, and was introduced -by the presiding deity as Count Frederick Ampisand, -of Hesse Cassel, Germany.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Fitzgerald did not like the appearance of the -count; he gave him a formal return of civilities -and retired to another corner of the room. Mary -Howard who was a perfectly artless creature; but -still perverse in her nature from the indulgence of -an invalid mother, and proud of having her own -way, became pleased with the foreigner as Fitzgerald -became disgusted. She admired his pretty broken -sentences; his captivating lisp, his manner of pulling -up his dickey, and of raising his quizzing glass -whenever a lady passed him. Forgetting all but her -own gratification, and being desirous of giving -Fitzgerald a commentary upon jealousy—that green-eyed -jade—she neglected her lover, and hung upon -the Count’s aspirations as Eve did upon the devil’s -whisper in Eden’s bower.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Fitzgerald was piqued. In fact he became angry, -and joining the dance, which he had heretofore -declined, became the gayest of the gay. He skipped -through a cotillion like a reefer at a dignity ball in -Barbadoes, and the light-footed Mrs. Wilson declared -that she discovered new graces in Mr. Fitzgerald -every time he jumped over the music-stool. -Mary Howard now became piqued in turn, and she -joined heartily in the laugh against her lover. A -rude remark of the Count’s, and a heartier laugh of -his beloved, at his expense, now stung the young -officer to the soul. He looked at the little knot of -critics. The Count was gazing at him through an -enormous quizzing glass, and a smile of scorn curled -his moustached lip.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Fitzgerald was impetuous and brave. Nature -had given him great strength, and a good share of -modest assurance. He walked deliberately up to -the party—“Miss Howard,” said he, “I beg of you -to excuse the Count for a moment. I have a -laughable trick to show him in the hall.” The -Count did not relish the proposition to go into the -dark entry with the officer. He had discovered a -spice of devil lurking in his eye. But Mary, suspecting -that her cousin was about to divert them -with a sea trick that required the aid of a second -person, insisted upon Count Ampisand’s going with -him to oblige her.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Aye, ver well to oblige Miss ’Oward. I will -go with Neptune,” said the Count magnanimously.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Get your hat,” said Fitzgerald, as the Count left -the saloon.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I ave him in my pocket,” said Ampisand, pulling -from his coat an opera hat, that answered the -double purpose of a “bustle” and a beaver, and -clapping it upon his head. The two lovers now -stood at the outside door from which several steps -led to the muddy street.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Count Ampisand,” said Fitzgerald, “you are an -imposter and a pitiful scoundrel. I have called you -out to insult you. Now, sir, take that, and be off.” -So saying, before the thunder-stricken Ampisand -could reply, Fitzgerald seized him by the nose, and, -after giving it no infant’s pull, presented his front to -the street, and administered an impetus to his after -body that carried him into a horse-pond in the middle -of the road.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I will ave the satisfacione, begar, Mr. Lieutenant -to shoot you wid de small sword dis night,” -said the Count, gathering himself up, and retreating -to the two Golden Eagles in no small haste. Fitzgerald -laughed aloud, and closing the door behind -him, walked lazily toward the shore of the ocean. -After walking for half an hour upon the wild sea -beach, Fitzgerald turned his steps toward Mrs. -Wilson’s for the purpose of bidding his cousin -farewell.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Coming footsteps now aroused him from his -reverie, and soon a young gentleman from the city, -accompanied by a surgeon, and Count Ampisand, -came up to him. A challenge was received and -accepted, and Fitzgerald named the present as the -only time. After much haggling about the unseasonableness -of the hour, and the disturbance the -duel might create in the vicinity of Mrs. Wilson’s,—on -the part of the challenging party—the count, -who had been refreshing his courage with some -old port, prepared to meet his antagonist on the -spot.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Small swords had been brought by Ampisand’s -friend, and the surgeon, who was an acquaintance -of Fitzgerald, undertook to act as his second. The -gentle breeze was singing a lullaby to the ocean, -and the sound of the distant viol broke upon their -ears. The ground was now paced out—the principals -were placed, and the words, one! two! three! -guard! were given, and the duel commenced. For -a few seconds the parties appeared to be equally -matched, but at length the count, whose body -seemed wonderfully to have increased in size since -the insult, began to pant and blow like a porpoise -out of water. Fitzgerald now caught the count’s -sword in the fleshy part of his arm, and ran him -through the body. The wounded man dropped his -weapon, and fell heavily upon the ground. Fitzgerald -and the surgeon ran up to him,—“Forgive -me,” said the apparently dying man, whispering in -Fitzgerald’s ear, “I loved Mary Howard, and -would have borne her away from you, but now, alas, -my prospects are blighted, and I must pay for my -folly with my blood.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“He does not bleed,” said the surgeon, mournfully.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Alas, my friend is mortally wounded,” said the -count’s second, putting a bottle of Scotch snuff to -his mouth, instead of a phial of brandy. The -wounded man grated his teeth violently, and rejected -all aid. Lights now came from Mrs. Wilson’s -toward them, notwithstanding the moon shone -brightly to dim them.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Is there no hope?” said Fitzgerald to the surgeon. -The medical man raised the body up—a -cold sweat was upon the face—death seemed nigh at -hand. He shook his head.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Fly, sir,” said Ampisand’s second, “or you will -be taken, the crowd are near at hand.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Go to my lodgings,” said the surgeon, “and I -will meet you there in a few minutes.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Ampisand’s friend and Fitzgerald now took the -swords and ran across the churchyard, which made -a short cut to the surgeon’s. As they reached the -street they heard a stage-coach rattling furiously -down the main street. Fitzgerald stopped. He -saw it was far ahead—he uttered a faint cry—his -chance of reaching his frigate was past. The surgeon -soon came. The wounded man was in the -charge of a German doctor, at Mrs. Wilson’s. The -ladies had nearly all gone home in fainting fits, and -Mary Howard had left in a flood of tears. This -confirmed Fitzgerald’s suspicions. “She loved -him,” said he “and, oh, what have I lost by this -evening’s devotion!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Fitzgerald’s arm pained him considerably, and -the surgeon dressed it. A carriage was then sent -for, to bear the young officer to his post; and -while it was being made ready, he threw himself -upon the surgeon’s truckle bed, and caught an -unquiet nap. It was nearly 3 o’clock of a cold -wet morning,—for a storm had ushered in the day,—when -the unhappy Fitzgerald departed in a close -carriage from Belleview.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>For the first stage he had a hope of overtaking -the post, but his horses began to lag with the -advance of day, and it was three P. M. before he -arrived at the point of embarkation. As he drew -up at the Bowery House, he watched eagerly for -some one of his brother officers, but none appeared -to greet him. He paid his coachman and bounded -into the passage. The bar-keeper met him at the -door.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Where is the Frigate, Dennis?” said he impatiently.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“She sailed at nine this morning,” said the bar-keeper, -“and is now out at sea.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Maurice Fitzgerald, I have said, was a brave -man. He could have faced death upon the blood-stained -deck, and gloriously braved the brunt of -battle, but now he felt his strength depart, and -retiring suddenly to his room, burst into a flood of -tears. After a few moments, his moral courage -returned. “I have merited this,” said he, “by -acceding to her girlish whims. I must now make -the best of a bad matter, and trust to fortune for success.” -He now proceeded to act in a calm manner. -He wrote a hasty note to Col. Howard, detailing -the circumstances of the case as they occurred, and -sending his formal respects to Mary. He wrote a -line to his aged father, of the same character, and -furthermore stated his intention of joining his vessel -by the aid of a pilot boat. Having paid his bill, he -sold a check upon his banker, purchased a sea-cloak -and a brace of pistols, and with his valise in his -hand, boarded a fast sailing pilot, at Beckman’s -Slip. A bargain was soon struck, and the light -craft, with Fitzgerald at the helm, turned her head -to the sea. On the way down, they met the pilot -who had taken the frigate to sea, and ascertained -her course. Trusting, then, to the swiftness of the -boat, that had several days provision on board, the -young officer boldly steered for the Atlantic, and -when the sun set, the highlands of Neversink were -astern.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>During the night, which continued wet and -gloomy, the wind, in fitful puffs, hurled them swiftly -o’er the waves, and, when the morning came, the -long, swelling billows of the ocean tumbled o’er -them, and the sheer-water darted ahead along the -thunder-chaunting waves. Nothing was to be seen -but the clouds above, and the gloomy waves below, -which came together at the edge of the horizon -like the lid and bottom of a circular tobacco box, -when closed. The old pilot was now confident -that the frigate had changed her course during the -evening preceding, and that all possibility of his -overtaking her was gone. With a heavy heart, -therefore, Fitzgerald put his helm down, the tacks -and sheets were shifted, the snowy canvass felt -again the side-long breath of the gale, and the little -bark drew in toward the distant shore.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>A suspicious looking schooner now hove in sight, -and bore down upon them with the swiftness of the -wind. The pilot, from the first, did not like her -appearance, and Fitzgerald, although he said nothing -to alarm his companion, felt confident that she was -a pirate. In less than an hour, the warlike stranger -shot across their bows, fired a gun, loaded with -grape, at their sails, and hoisted the black flag of -the Bucaniers.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>All resistance to this antagonist would have been -madness, and the pilot obeyed the hoarse hail, and -ran alongside the pirate. Twenty rough looking -rascals, each armed to the teeth, with a young man -of higher rank at their head, sprang into the pilot -boat, and after making sundry motions, which -seemed to imply a speedy cutting of their throats, -bound the pilot and his men. Fitzgerald, however, -resisted the party that came upon him, and with his -pistols soon wounded two of the pirates. A cutlass -now flashed before his eyes, and sense and reason -departed.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>When Fitzgerald again became conscious of -existence, he found himself in a cot, swinging in a -beautiful cottage, in the vicinity of the sea, for he -could hear the solemn roar of breakers, and the -screams of the sea-birds, as they revelled amid the -foam. A beautiful Creole maiden stood by his bed -side, chaunting a low, mournful tune, while she -brushed away the flies from his pillow with a long -fan made of peacock’s feathers.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He looked at her for some seconds, and then as -the thought of his cousin past across his brain, a -deep sigh burst from his lips. The maiden started—“hush,” -said she, putting her finger to her lips, and -stepping to the side table, handed him a composing -draught in a silver goblet. He drank the contents -with gratitude, and soon fell into a sweet sleep.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It was nearly sunset when Fitzgerald awoke, -completely invigorated in body and mind. He -looked around him,—no one was to be seen. He -called, but no one answered his summons. He now -determined to find out where he was. His clothes -were in a chair beside his cot, and his valise was -upon the dressing table. He raised himself slowly -upon his arm,—finding that he was not in want of -strength, he sprang out of the cot and dressed -himself. He now viewed his face in a huge Spanish -mirror, that hung over a taper, with the holy letters -I. H. S. below it. He started back in astonishment. -A cruel cut had laid open his marble forehead to the -scull, and a long, purple scar, scarcely healed, -marked the track of the cutlass. Having brushed -his long, black hair over the disfiguration, he went -to the window and looked out upon the surrounding -face of nature. He saw he was upon a small -island, in the midst of a host of others, and that the -narrow passes between them were filled with clippers -and man-o’-war boats, apparently returning from -cruizes upon the main. It was a romantic spot, -unlike any other in the world. About sixty cottages, -like the one he occupied, rose in the distance, each -with its garden and verandah. Groves of orange -and lemon trees, loaded with ripe fruit, waved their -tops of eternal green around, and filled the atmosphere -with a delicious odor.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The waves broke over the long, bold reefs that -lined the islands, and the sky was dotted with flocks -of sea-birds. Here and there a solitary pine tree -sprung from a crevice in the rocks, where its cone -had been thrown up by the dash of some sweeping -wave whose crest had borne it across the sea. It -was Noman’s Group, and was not far from Cape -Flyaway.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Fitzgerald had hardly made the discoveries above -related, when the lovely Creole, with an officer in a -naval uniform, entered the chamber. They saluted -Fitzgerald with kindness, and appeared to be astonished -at his sudden improvement. He now found -a ready market for the smattering of Spanish he had -picked up among the Dagos of Mahon, and in half -an hour his store was exhausted.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>From them he learned that the pilot had been -set adrift in his boat, after having furnished all the -information desired; but that he, from his resistance, -had been retained to be killed at leisure. Having, -however, from a fever of the brain, continued insensible -so long,—it being then the thirtieth day,—the -pirates concluded to send him to the Hospital -Island, to be restored to health. He was now with -his surgeon and attentive nurse, and would be reported -“<span class='it'>well</span>,” on the coming Saturday. His -attendants refused to tell him where he was. All -distances and names of places were carefully concealed, -and all that he could ascertain was, that a -direct communication was kept up with the American -Continent, and that newspapers were brought -to the islands from the United States weekly, and -would be furnished him if he desired them.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Fitzgerald was lavish of his thanks for such -kindness, and begged that the latest newspapers -from New York might be given him.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The Creole girl left the room immediately, and -presently a boat was seen putting off to a brig in -the pass, opposite the cottage.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The surgeon now drew his chair closer to that -of his patient, and became less reserved. The latter -soon understood that it had been decided by the -pirates that upon his recovery he should join them -or be shot upon the cliff. The blood of Fitzgerald -boiled in his veins at the bare proposal of the Bucanier, -but before he gave his anger words, his -lovely Creole approached with a package of New -York dailies, taken the week previous from an outward -bound brig. Forgetting every thing else in -his desire to hear from his native land, he opened -the first paper that met his eye, and read the following:—“Arrived, -the United States Frigate ——, -with His Britannic Majesty’s Ship —— of forty-four -guns, in tow, as a prize. The action lasted -thirty minutes, when the British frigate struck her -flag. Capt. —— immediately left the frigate and -proceeded to Washington with the enemy’s flag. -The official account of this gallant action will be -given to-morrow. Suffice it to say that every -officer and man did his duty, and that promotion, -and the thanks of a grateful country await the -victors.” In another paper he read a list of promotions -in the navy, and his own dismissal from -the service. The marriage list now caught his -eye, and he read,—“Married in Belleview, on -the 1st instant, by the Reverend Mr. Smell Fungus, -Count Frederick Ampisand, of Hesse Cassel, -Germany, to Miss Mary Howard, the only -daughter of Col. John Howard, of the revolutionary -army.</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style='page-break-before: avoid;'> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“Love is the silken cord that binds</p> -<p class='line0'> Two willing hearts together.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='noindent'>Every word of this paragraph remained like an -impression from types of fire upon his melancholy -brain.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Doctor,” said Fitzgerald, throwing down the -paper, while the blood oozed from his scarcely-healed -wound,—“tell your leaders that henceforth I -am with them body and soul. The victim of circumstance—the -sport of the world—a cork floating -upon the stream of time.—I will be dreaded, if I -cannot be loved.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The morning came, and Fitzgerald was introduced -to the bucaniers in their strong hold. -Bold and generous, two qualities that always sail -in company, he became a universal favorite at the -melee, and o’er the bowl; and in the course of a -short time, he paced along the weather quarter of -the gun brig, King Fisher,—“the monarch of her -peopled deck.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It was a beautiful summer’s night. The sun -had sunk in a dense cloud bank behind the Bahamas; -and the small red bow in the northwest, -accompanied by a hollow sound, as though cannons -had been fired far down beneath the surface of the -ocean, gave evidence of the near approach of a -norther.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The brig was soon prepared for the war of the -elements, whose signal guns had been heard wakening -the lowest echoes of the deep. Her head was -brought so as to receive the first burst of the tempest’s -fury; conductors were rigged aloft, and their -chains of steel rattled sharply as they descended -into the sea along side. The light spars were sent -down, her storm stay-sail was set, and she rode the -heaving billows like a duck.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>A tall merchantman, bound apparently to the -Havana, now swept along to the windward of the -islands under a press of canvass. Fitzgerald saw -that she was crowded with passengers, and his -soul sickened at the thought, that ere the morning -dawned that gallant bark would be a wreck upon -an iron-bound coast, and her host of human beings -would lie the play things of the shark, and the lifeless -sport of the thunder-pealing waves. A sudden -throb of sympathy moved his heart, a tear—the -first, he had shed for months—started to his eye. -He grasped his trumpet—his topsails were unfurled -and in less than an hour he occupied a station to -the windward of <span style='font-size:smaller'>THE DOOMED SHIP</span>. His canvass -was now reduced as before, and under the smallest -possible sail, he stretched ahead of the merchantman.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The norther now came on in its fury—from the -red bow that had reached the zenith, a bright flash -of blinding lightning darted in a long bright stream -and parted into a thousand forks, and then came a -crash of thunder with the almost resistless wind. -The King Fisher was borne down to her bearings, -and then righted again, and gallantly faced the blast. -Not so with the crank merchantman. Her tall -masts were whipped out of her in a twinkling; -the ocean surges swept her deck fore and aft: and -she lay tossing in the trough of the sea a helpless -wreck.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>At midnight the fury of the blast died away, and -the sea that had rolled in terrific waves began to -go down. The brig under a reefed foresail and -maintopsail now danced again from billow to tasseled-tipt -billow, and gained rapidly upon the sea -washed wreck. As the King Fisher drew near the -once gallant vessel, Fitzgerald heard a voice crying -in agony for help. He looked over the head and -saw a female floating upon a spar, a short distance -before him. To brace round his topsail-yard, lay -to, and lower the life boat, was but the work of a -moment, and with six trusty fellows he launched -out upon the midnight deep.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>In a few moments he caught the almost lifeless -female by the hair, and wrapped her in his sea-cloak—“To -the wreck,” said he, in a voice of -thunder, as his starboard oars backed water to return -to their craft. The crew gave way with a -will, and immediately the life boat made fast to the -loose rigging of the wreck. Preceded by Fitzgerald, -two of his men mounted the vessel’s side. -Fitzgerald as he sprang upon the deck started back -with astonishment. Colonel Howard stood before -him in a long robe of white flannel, apparently as -free from the gout as the youngest of the party.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Uncle,” said the young officer, with a cry of -delight, “what a meeting!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The old man looked up, “Rash and impetuous -boy,” said he, with a voice trembling with joy and -astonishment, “you have not lost all sympathy yet; -I have been in search of you, but little did I expect -such a meeting. Poor Mary, oh, that she had remained -a few moments longer.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Is Mary here?” said Fitzgerald, casting a troubled -glance around the anxious crowd that had -gathered around the speakers.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“No,” said the old veteran, clasping his hands -and lifting up his eyes streaming with tears—“She -was swept out of my aged arms by the last sea, -and is now in heaven.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“She is in my boat,” said Fitzgerald, “I thought -that voice was Mary’s as it came from the deep, -but come let us haste, the wreck may go down -with us while we stand here.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Are you all armed in the boat?” hailed Fitzgerald, -in a voice of thunder.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Aye, aye, sir,” was the gruff answer from the -ones who remained in her.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Then shoot the first person who attempts to -enter her without my orders,” said Fitzgerald; the -pirates cocked their pistols, and sat ready to execute -his commands. The two men who had -boarded the wreck with him were now ordered -to make ropes fast to the ends of a hammock; one -rope was then thrown to the boat’s crew, while the -other remained on board the wreck. The aged -men and women, one by one, were now lowered -by this simple contrivance to the boat; and when -she was sufficiently loaded, Fitzgerald ordered one -of his men on board to steer her, with orders to -see that the passengers were not molested until he -came on board. Seven times the life boat, filled -with the passengers and crew of the Rosalie, whose -captain had been washed away, made its voyage of -mercy, and having cleared the wreck, the noble-hearted -Fitzgerald—plunged into the waves and -reached the boat in safety—this had been made -necessary by the parting of the rigging that held -the boat. The whole were saved, and as the life -boat was run up to the davits, the wreck plunged -heavily to leeward, a heavy wave rolled over her -and she was seen no more.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It was a bright morning at the Bahamas when -the King Fisher took her departure for the Florida -reef. Fitzgerald now entered his cabin for the first -time since the rescue, and the thousand thanks -that were showered upon him by the aged and the -young—by the strong man—the gentle woman—and -the lisping child almost overpowered him.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He received their congratulations in a proper -manner, and modestly informed them that he had -but performed his duty. He bade them welcome -to the best his poor brig afforded, and promised to -land them at the nearest port. Mary Howard, -pale and weak, now came out of her little state-room. -She cast her round black eyes which -beamed fearfully bright upon Fitzgerald. A crimson -cloud past over her snowy face,—“It is he,” -she screamed, while the tears that had so long -refused to flow from their sealed fountains filled -her eyes; Fitzgerald sprang to meet her, and in a -moment she fell lifeless into his open arms.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Colonel Howard now bade the young officer -place his daughter upon the sofa in the after -cabin: and having seen her revive, retired and left -them alone.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The unfortunate Mary now became calm and collected, -and with a heart overflowing with gratitude, -and eyes suffused with tears, related to Fitzgerald -the events that had transpired since his departure, -and the cause of her present voyage amid the horrors -and uncertainties of war.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It seems that Count Ampisand had stuffed his -clothes with pillows, and that Fitzgerald’s sword -had barely grazed his noble body, having been -warded off by the feathers that filled his stuffing. -This accounted for the entire absence of blood. -The count of course soon became convalescent.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Mary Howard ever generous, and feeling that -she had been the unhappy cause of the duel, prevailed -upon her father to take the wounded foreigner -to his house on the night of the duel. -Ampisand was delighted with this state of things, -and he pressed his suit upon Mary Howard warmly: -but she repelled his advances with scorn. Mrs. -Wilson, however, and her scandalising circle, could -not wait for Count Ampisand to get married in the -regular way, and believing in the absence of Fitzgerald -that Mary Howard could not refuse the -amiable and accomplished count, they prevailed -upon a travelling letter writer—one of those drag -nets for second-handed news—to put a paragraph -in his <span class='it'>master’s</span> paper for the fun of it.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>This was the notice that Fitzgerald saw, and -which had caused him so much terrible agony of -mind.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It is too late to repair the evil,” said Fitzgerald, -as he paced the cabin with a countenance tortured -by despair.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It is never too late to do a good action,” said -Mary Howard, firmly—“Maurice Fitzgerald you -are not the one to bring dishonor upon a patriot -father’s name: or to call down the curse of a -sainted mother upon your head.” The young man -bowed his head upon the rudder case, and the fair -girl resumed her narrative.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The arrival of the scandalous paragraph caused -the speedy ejection of the count from Colonel -Howard’s domicil, in no ceremonious manner, and -the instant departure of Mrs. Wilson, bag and -baggage.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Colonel Howard raved like a madman for a -week; threatened the editor of the offending paper -with a prosecution; discovered the perpetrators of -the scandal; placarded the whole party as retailers -and manufacturers of falsehoods; and posted Count -Ampisand as an imposter and a villain in every -section of the Union.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The count was shortly afterward tried for stealing -spoons and convicted. The next day he changed -his lodgings, and occupied a room on the ground -floor of the castellated building at Moyamensing, -which had but one <span class='it'>grate</span>, and that was before the -window, while Sanderson, the terror of the genteel -sucker, had him served up in his amusing diary of -a Philadelphia Landlord on the next Saturday.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The departure of Fitzgerald from New York -was commended by his brother officers, but his -long absence from the ship could not be satisfactorily -accounted for, and he was dismissed by the -navy department. Enquiries had been made in -every section of the country for him by his almost -distracted father; and at last a reward was offered -in the newspapers for any information concerning -him. The pilot who had left him wounded with -the pirates, now came forward, and related the -circumstances under which he and Fitzgerald had -parted company. Fitzgerald’s father, an aged man -of great wealth, and who had no other child to -attract his love, now insisted upon Colonel Howard’s -proceeding to ransom his son. Mary, whose -health was rapidly declining, was directed by her -physician to perform a sea voyage, and thus father -and daughter were induced to brave the dangers of -that sea, whose waves teemed with freebooters, -and whose isles flashed with cutlasses and boarding-pikes.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The Rosalie had agreed, for a great sum of -money, to land the Howards at New Providence: -and then proceed on to New Orleans, her port of -final destination. Once landed, they were to trust -to opportunity for the means of transportation to -their native land.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The norther brought them together as before -related; and the warring elements of nature produced -a reconciliation between the lovers.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Fitzgerald, when Mary had ceased speaking, -raised his head. He had been singularly agitated -during her narrative; he now calmly opened his -soul to her. He kept nothing back; the catalogue -of offences detailed to her was an exact copy of -the dark list that had been registered against his -name above. Twice she started as though an -adder had stung her; but when he informed her -that his hand had never been stained with blood; -and that he had never appropriated to himself a -dollar of the ill-gotten wealth, she breathed freer, -and as he concluded, a smile lit up her heavenly -countenance.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Maurice,” said she, “I believe you—you have -made a false move in life: and I have been the -innocent cause of it. It is not too late to repair -it—you must leave this bloody craft at the first -port you make—the busy times—the deeds of -blood—the privateering and the blustering of war -will cover all, and in our little village we can -peacefully linger out our lives, and rejoice that the -day of our sorrow is over.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Colonel Howard now entered the cabin. He -approved of the plan suggested, and Fitzgerald -joyfully consented to its being carried into execution.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The next day the brig made the land. The -passengers of the foundered ship were immediately -sent on shore, with the exception of Colonel Howard -and his daughter; and upon the return of the -last boat a letter of thanks, signed by the passengers, -with a draft for ten thousand dollars, was -handed to Fitzgerald.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>He immediately sent an officer in disguise to -New Orleans to get the money; and at twelve -o’clock, accompanied by the Howards, left the -King Fisher. He had left a letter in his signal -book to the next in command, surrendering up the -brig, renouncing the service of the bucaniers, and -giving his portion of the spoils to the crew. His -necessary clothing he had packed with Colonel -Howard’s. Upon reaching the shore, he bade the -officer of the boat to inform the second in command -that he should be absent for a few days, and that -if he found it necessary to move his berth he would -find instructions for his guidance in his signal book. -A house was near at hand, the little party soon -changed their apparel, and procuring a conveyance, -proceeded to a little village on the other side of -the island, whence in a fast sailing clipper they -stretched over to Pensacola. Having shaved off -his ferocious whiskers and his long soap-locks, -which gave him the appearance of a nondescript -animal, somewhere between a man and a monkey, -he dressed himself in the sober attire of a citizen -of this glorious republic, and in company with his -kind uncle and much loved cousin, proceeded by -land to Belleview.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>On the arrival of the party at the homestead, the -fortunate Fitzgerald became the husband of the -true-hearted Mary; and old Fitzgerald and Colonel -Howard danced a hop waltz together, gout and all, -on the occasion. The wedding broke up at a late -hour, and old Fitzgerald went to bed tipsy, very -much to the scandal of a total abstinence society, -of which he was an honorary member.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Fitzgerald and his domestic wife settled down -upon the homestead, and in a few months Colonel -Howard and Major Fitzgerald were called to the -dread muster of the dead.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The property of the old, now became the property -of the young; and the broad lands and -splendid mansion of Maurice Fitzgerald became the -envy and the pride of the village.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Of the King Fisher nothing was heard until after -the war, when she was found rotting upon a mud -bank, near the place where her commander left her. -Her crew had deserted her, and the gallant gun brig -never ploughed the ocean furrow more.</p> - -<div class='blockquote'> - -<p class='pindent'><span style='font-size:smaller'>Washington, November, 1840.</span></p> - -</div> - -<hr class='tbk107'/> - -<div><h1><a id='lethe'></a>THE WATERS OF LETHE.</h1></div> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p> -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY N. C. BROOKS, A. M.</p> -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1em;'>Written for one in dejection.</p> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1em;'>“Oh, for a cup of the Waters of Lethe.” <span class='it'>Letter of a Friend.</span></p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>Come, Peri, from the well,</p> -<p class='line0'>  Where cooling waters steep</p> -<p class='line0'>The soul that’s bound by memory’s spell</p> -<p class='line0'>  In soft oblivion’s sleep.</p> -<p class='line0'>The lethean power diffuse;</p> -<p class='line0'>  I could not wake again:</p> -<p class='line0'>Pour o’er my heart its balmy dews,</p> -<p class='line0'>  And on my burning brain.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>The plighted hopes of youth—</p> -<p class='line0'>  The perished joys of years—</p> -<p class='line0'>Affections withered—slighted truth—</p> -<p class='line0'>  The sunlight dashed with tears—</p> -<p class='line0'>The cloud, the storm, the strife,</p> -<p class='line0'>  I would recall no more,</p> -<p class='line0'>And all the bitterness of life;</p> -<p class='line0'>  The lethean goblet pour!</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>Remembered tones of old—</p> -<p class='line0'>  Of friends in quiet sleep,</p> -<p class='line0'>Make other eyes and tones seem cold,</p> -<p class='line0'>  And bid the lonely weep;</p> -<p class='line0'>Come then, Oblivion, seal</p> -<p class='line0'>  All memory as I drink;</p> -<p class='line0'>This tortured heart would cease to feel,</p> -<p class='line0'>  This fevered brain to think.</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<div class='blockquote'> - -<p class='pindent'><span style='font-size:smaller'>Baltimore, November, 1840.</span></p> - -</div> - -<hr class='tbk108'/> - -<div><h1><a id='yoo'></a>YOO-TI-HU.</h1></div> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p> -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY J. ROSS BROWNE.</p> -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p> - -<h2 class='nobreak'>I. <span class='sc'>The Consultation.</span></h2> - -<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>Yoo-ti-hu</span>, the handsomest and sprightliest Page -in the suite of <span class='sc'>Pokatoka</span>, King of Gazaret, imprudently -fell in love with <span class='sc'>Omanea</span>, the flower of the -king’s harem. Pokatoka, though sadly afflicted -with rheumatism, was partial to the amusements of -the harem. It happened that he had a slight suspicion -of Yoo-ti-hu’s integrity, and this rendered -him perfectly miserable. <span class='sc'>Tally-yang-sang</span>, Great -Nazir, or Chamberlain of the Harem, was sent for.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Mirror of Vigilance,—Quintessence of Piety,—and -Disciple of Wisdom,”—such were the Grand -Nazir’s titles, and so the king addressed him.—“Well -we know thy skill in affairs of the heart. -Well we know thy penetration is never at fault. We -have required thy presence to demand if thou hast -noticed anything peculiar in the conduct of our -peerless Omanea, since the addition of Yoo-ti-hu to -our suite?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“There is a lone dove,” replied the Grand Nazir, -in his own mysterious way, “whose nest is in the -grove of love. Even as this emblem of tenderness -awaits the coming of a prisoned mate, so pines in -secret my lady Omanea.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And by whom think you, wondrous Tally-yang-sang, -is this change effected?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Your mightiness would scarcely thank me if I -made known my suspicions, since they implicate -your greatest favorite.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Ha! ’tis Yoo-ti-hu! I thought so! I knew -it!—he shall die.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“God is great,” muttered Tally-yang-sang.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Let the page’s head be brought to me,” said -the king, “as a token of my displeasure.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“With all my heart, sire. I dislike the youth, -and your highness shall be obeyed.” The Grand -Nazir bowed very low, and left the audience -chamber.</p> - -<h2 class='nobreak'>II. <span class='sc'>The Three Wishes.</span></h2> - -<p class='pindent'>Yoo-ti-hu, being accidentally near, heard what -had passed. In the bitterness of despair, he rushed -from the palace, and roamed to a solitary retreat in -the gardens.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“How miserable am I,” he cried, “to love so -hopelessly and so madly. Grant, oh, inventive -genius! that I may evade the vigilance and persecution -of Tally-yang-sang. Grant that the fates -may aid me in this dilemma.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Yoo-ti-hu,” said a voice from the shrubbery, -“thou hast incurred my displeasure; but, nevertheless, -since thou art in a dangerous situation, I promise -three such things as thou shalt choose.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Verily,” quoth Yoo-ti-hu, “thou art a bountiful -genius; and it is a sin to reject aid from so high -a source. Know then, generous spirit, that I have -peculiar occasion for a bow and a quiver of arrows.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“A modest request,” observed the Genius, “and -fortunately, I have by me such an one as no living -archer ever shot with; for look you this way or -that, such are its virtues, that it will hit the mark -exactly in the centre.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Bless thee a thousand times!” cried Yoo-ti-hu -in an ecstacy of joy; “and since thou art so kind, -I fancy I may crave a lute,—with which I shall be -satisfied, were it never so small.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Thou shalt have one, my son, of such exquisite -tones, that when the same is played, all living -things shall skip and dance,—so pleasant is the -music.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Delightful!—excellent!” cried Yoo-ti-hu.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“What next?” said the Genius.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Indeed, thou art too good,” replied Yoo-ti-hu; -“I am going now to rove the world as a simple -minstrel. I shall live on birds, and amuse myself -with my lute,—so I need nothing more.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“But, son, I solemnly swear thou shalt have three -things, be they never so costly.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Well, good Genius, since thou art so kindly -disposed, I shall choose an inexhaustible purse.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“The very thing I have in my pocket,” quoth -the Genius, and handing the inexhaustible purse to -Yoo-ti-hu, he disappeared immediately.</p> - -<h2 class='nobreak'>III. <span class='sc'>Tally-yang-sang in a Plight.</span></h2> - -<p class='pindent'>Yoo-ti-hu seated himself on the steps of a fountain -to admire his bow and his lute. Tally-yang-sang, -chancing to roam in the vicinity, espied the page, -whereupon he assumed a very severe countenance, -and approaching the spot, spoke thus: “Yoo-ti-hu, -thou art an unfaithful wretch! Thou hast betrayed -the confidence of thy king. Thou hast entered his -harem and stolen the heart of Omanea! Know, -then, that I am commanded to carry him thy head, -as a slight token of his displeasure.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Verily, great and worthy nazir,” quoth Yoo-ti-hu, -“I can show thee pleasanter sport than that. Seest -thou yon Bird of Paradise, with plumage more -bright than the colors of Iris? Behold, your -highness, how I shall shoot him!” Yoo-ti-hu -drew his bow—shut his eyes—and let fly an arrow. -The bird fell quivering among the bushes. Tally-yang-sang -was no less pious than philosophical, and -this feat surprised him exceedingly. With curiosity -depicted in his countenance, he walked forward to -where the bird had fallen.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“A little farther,” said Yoo-ti-hu.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Here?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Still farther.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Here, then.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“On.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Now?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Yes—there lies the bird. But tell me,” said -Yoo-ti-hu, with a boldness that surprised the Grand -Nazir, “dost thou certainly mean to carry my head -to the king?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“God is great,” quoth Tally-yang-sang.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And Mahommed is his Prophet!” added Yoo-ti-hu; -with which he started up such a tune on his -lute, as caused the venerable chamberlain to skip -and dance like one possessed of the devil.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“The spirit of Ebris seize thee!” roared Tally-yang-sang, -capering about among the bushes, and -leaving a strip of skin on every thorn, “the devil -take thee for a musician!” and on he skipped and -danced till the tears ran down his cheeks—the -blood streamed from his jagged and scarified -limbs—and his capacious breeches were completely -torn from his legs. Yoo-ti-hu continued the music -with unabated ardor. Tally-yang-sang forgot his -orisons and paternosters; and up and down—left -hand and right hand—ladies chain—balancee—reel—jig—and -Spanish waltz, danced the bare-legged -amateur, roaring with pain, and uttering horrible -imprecations.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“God is great?” quoth Yoo-ti-hu.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“His curse be on thee!” roared Tally-yang-sang.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Music hath charms,” said Yoo-ti-hu.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Exercise is the staff of life,” philosophised -Yoo-ti-hu.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Blast it!” shrieked Tally-yang-sang.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Piety is pleasant,” moralised Yoo-ti-hu.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Damnable!” roared Tally-yang-sang.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Yoo-ti-hu perceived the vigor departing from -the limbs of the Great Nazir, whereupon he -struck up a still livelier air. Tally-yang-sang curvetted -and pranced—whirled hither and thither his -bare spindles, and leaped madly among the thorns. -In an agony of pain he cried, “Dear, gentle Yoo-ti-hu,—I -beseech thee to stop!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Verily,” quoth Yoo-ti-hu, “I value my head.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I shall not harm a hair,” groaned Tally-yang-sang.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Words are cheap,” said Yoo-ti-hu.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“But I swear—I solemnly swear!” piteously -cried Tally-yang-sang.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“By what?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“By the Prophet!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Nay.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“By God himself!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Swear by thy beard!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Never!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Then dance!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Another good hour did Tally-yang-sang caper -about, roar and blaspheme, till cruelly excoriated -from head to foot.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Do you swear?” asked Yoo-ti-hu.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I do.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“By that which is sacred?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“By my beard!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>In a truly pitiable condition the Grand Nazir -limped toward the palace. Yoo-ti-hu followed—admiring -the bandy and scarified legs of the great -Tally-yang-sang, and muttering benedictions on the -genius.</p> - -<h2 class='nobreak'>IV. <span class='sc'>Yoo-ti-hu in Danger.</span></h2> - -<p class='pindent'>The great rajas, moguls, and lords of Gazaret, -belonging to the court of Pokatoka, had sallied out -with the king, to take a stroll in the royal gardens.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Ho!” cried Yptaleen, high master of the festivities, -“what fantastic clown comes hither?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“An Egyptian dancer,” quoth the king.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“A self-punished Musselman,” added a raja.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“True,” said a grand mogul, “for behind him -walks his koran bearer.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Rather a shia with his talisman,” observed a -lord of Gazaret.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Or a sooni,” whispered a pious Mohammedan.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“A blood-stained spirit of Ebris,” remarked a -famous Astrologer.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Hush!” exclaimed Yptaleen, “by all that is -terrible!—by monkin and nakir! ’tis Tally-yang-sang, -grand nazir of the harem!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And Tally-yang-sang it was, whose woeful figure -approached the pageant.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Mirror of Piety!” cried the king, “what means -this outlandish freak? Methinks it ill becomes -thee to tramp about, bare-legged and bloody, after -this fashion. Propriety of conduct, and delicacy, -should distinguish a master of the harem; and I -much regret that thou hast infringed, not only on -these, but on the laws of decency.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Sure, mighty monarch of Gazaret,” replied -Tally-yang-sang, wringing his hands and smiting his -breast, “thy page deals with the devil; for, verily, -he hath a lute of such bewitching tones, that, when -the same be played, I could not help skipping and -dancing among the bushes till my bones creaked—my -head whirled, and I was flayed and excoriated -within an inch of my life—as your highness may -see.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Tally-yang-sang,” said the king gravely, “thy -character is impeached—thou hast spoken of impossibilities; -in fact, thou hast lied.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“By all that is solemn, I have spoken the truth,” -cried the grand nazir.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And nothing but the truth?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“As I live!” protested Tally-yang-sang.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Then Yoo-ti-hu shall lose his head.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Nay,—I have sworn on my beard to save it.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Generous Tally-yang-sang!” cried Pokatoka, -“thou art too lenient of offence. Nevertheless, -Yoo-ti-hu shall be punished.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Certainly,” said Tally-yang-sang, “it was my -design to have him decently flayed to death.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Which shall be done,” quoth the king, “if thou -provest the offence.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Without further delay the bare-legged and excoriated -Tally-yang-sang led the way to the palace; -and caliphs, rajas, moguls and lords of Gazaret, -followed admiringly in the rear.</p> - -<h2 class='nobreak'>V. <span class='sc'>The Trial and its Effects.</span></h2> - -<p class='pindent'>The grand council-chamber of the palace was -presently crowded with courtiers, officers of the -guard, sicaries, mandarins, and pashas,—at the head -of whom, seated by his queen, and attended by a -magnificent suite of pages sat Pokatoka, King of -Gazaret. At a desk, immediately under the throne, -sat a venerable Arabian writer, versed in hieroglyphics, -and ready to take the minutes of the whole -proceedings. Ranged around, stood a number of -beautiful Circassians, Georgians, Nubians, and -Abyssinians—slaves and witnesses from the king’s -harem; but the diamond of these gems was <span class='sc'>Omanea</span>, -arraigned on charge of having unlawfully bestowed -her heart on Yoo-ti-hu. The fact is, Tally-yang-sang -was determined that the lovers should both be -condemned, and had thus prepared matters for the -prosecution. In order to establish the truth of his -charge, he remained—much to the edification of -the young slaves by whom he was surrounded—in -the same plight in which the king had met him.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Quintessence of piety and disciple of wisdom,” -said the king, “proceed with thy charge.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Know then, courtiers, rajas, mandarins and -officers of the guard,” quoth Tally-yang-sang, “that -Yoo-ti-hu hath stolen the heart of Omanea, and -that his highness, the king, commanded me to rid -the offender of his head. This very evening I -roamed in the royal gardens, meditating on the -most agreeable plans of decapitation, when I espied -the wicked Yoo-ti-hu. Having lured me into a -horrid bush, he struck up a tune on his lute—the -infernal strains of which caused me to dance till I -was fairly torn to shreds—as you all may perceive. -Then—”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Stop there!” cried Pokatoka, “this story of the -lute must be established ere you proceed farther.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I solemnly beseech your mightiness to take my -word,” groaned Tally-yang-sang, eyeing the lute -with horror,—“Do, Great King of Gazaret! and -the blessings of heaven be on thee!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Nay,” cried the king, “we must have a fair -and impartial investigation. Yoo-ti-hu, thou art -commanded on pain of loosing thy head to strike -us a tune on thy lute!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“For God’s sake,” implored the grand nazir, -“since ye must hear it, I pray and beseech ye to -bind me to a post.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Exactly in the middle of the court stood a post, -ornamented with divers beautiful designs, carved in -wood and in gold; and to this was the chamberlain -firmly tied.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Truth is mighty,” quoth the king, “and will -out. So proceed Yoo-ti-hu, in the name of God -and Mahommed, his Prophet!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Yoo-ti-hu forthwith struck up his liveliest air; -and lords, rajas, and moguls; sages, philosophers -and mamelukes; officers of the guard, sicaries and -mandarins; slaves, young and lovely, and old and -ugly; disciples of Mahommed; priests, friars, saints -and heretics; pages, trainbearers, and virgins of -incense—sprang to their feet and danced hither -and thither—hornpipe, jig and merry reel—in such -glee and confusion as were never heard of before -or since. The venerable writer had leaped from -the desk—the decrepit Pokatoka from his throne; -the sharp-featured old queen from her chair of -dignity and joined in the general melee. But -the groans of the gouty—the blasphemies of the -pious—the laughter of the young—and the remonstrances -of the sage, were all drowned in the lusty -roars of Tally-yang-sang, who cruelly bruised his -head against the post in trying to beat time—tore -the live flesh from his back so eager was he to -dance—and uttered a horrid imprecation at every -ornament on the post.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Yoo-ti-hu! Yoo-ti-hu!” cried the breathless -Pokatoka.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Yoo-ti-hu!” screamed the dancing queen.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Yoo-ti-hu! Yoo-ti-hu!” was echoed and re-echoed -around by the nobles and courtiers; and -to and fro they skipped, as Yoo-ti-hu plied his -merriest tunes—the floor groaning—the perspiration -streaming from their cheeks; and their breath -failing at every jump.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Dear, pleasant, Yoo-ti-hu,” cried the king, in -the heat of a Spanish jig, “I do beseech thee to -stop.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“A thousand seguins for silence!” groaned a -gouty raja, prancing high and low in a German -waltz.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I am shamed—disgraced forever!” muttered -an Arabian astrologer, in the middle of a Scotch -reel.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Yoo-ti-hu—the devil seize thee!” shouted a -pious Musselman.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Have mercy!” cried a blasphemous heretic.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Mercy! mercy!” echoed the dancers one and -all—“Do, gentle Yoo-ti-hu, have mercy, and cease -thy accursed music!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Pardon him! pardon him!” roared the magnanimous -Tally-yang-sang—his ribs rattling frightfully -against the post; “in the name of the prophet -pardon him ere I bruise myself into an Egyptian -mummy!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Yoo-ti-hu cease! thou art pardoned!” cried -the king, in a piteous tone, “my seal—my life on -it thou shall not be harmed!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Very well,” said Yoo-ti-hu, still striking his -lute; “but I must have Omanea as a bride.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Thou shalt have her!—take her!—she is -thine!” shouted the rheumatic monarch.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Thy oath on it,” quoth Yoo-ti-hu.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“By all that’s sacred—by my beard she is -thine!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Yoo-ti-hu ceased—the dancers, groaning and -breathless, returned to their seats—the grand nazir -was taken from the post in a pitiable plight—and -the pious Musselman ejaculated—“God is great!”</p> - -<hr class='tbk109'/> - -<p class='pindent'>An Arabian historian says that Yoo-ti-hu having -espoused Omanea, carried his bride to the kingdom -of Bucharia, of which, in the course of time, he -became the king; and with his inexhaustible purse -built a palace of gold, wherein he reigned for half -a century, the mirror of monarchy, and the admiration -of mankind.</p> - -<div class='blockquote'> - -<p class='pindent'><span style='font-size:smaller'>Louisville, Kentucky, December 14, 1840.</span></p> - -</div> - -<hr class='tbk110'/> - -<div><h1><a id='lawyer'></a>LEAVES FROM A LAWYER’S PORT-FOLIO.</h1></div> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1em;font-weight:bold;'>THE AVENGER.</p> - -<div class='literal-container' style=''><div class='literal'> <!-- rend=';fs:0.9em;' --> -<p class='line' style='font-size:0.9em;'>“Slave, I have set my life upon a cast,</p> -<p class='line' style='font-size:0.9em;'>And I will stand the hazard of the die.”</p> -<p class='line' style='text-align:right;margin-right:0em;margin-bottom:0.75em;font-size:0.9em;'><span class='it'>Shakspeare.</span></p> -</div></div> <!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>“I feel that I am dying,” exclaimed the sick -man, gazing wistfully toward the window, “and it -seems good to me that it should be so. Lift me up -a little that I may look upon this April morn, and -throw back the curtains that I may feel the sweet -breath of heaven once more upon my brow,—there, -that will do, God bless you all.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The speaker was in the last stage of his disease. -His eye was sunken, his voice was feeble, his lips -were bloodless, his emaciated fingers looked like -talons, and his originally handsome countenance, -now hollow, pale, and ghastly, seemed already as -the face of a corpse. At times his features would -twitch convulsively. He breathed quick and heavily.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The balmy air of a spring morning stealing soothingly -across his forehead, and tossing his long dark -locks wantonly about, appeared for a while to kindle -up the fading energies of the dying man, and turning -with a faint smile toward me, he said,</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I promised you my history, did I not? Well, -I will tell it now, for I feel my sands are running -low, and the cistern will soon be broken at the -fountain. I have no time to lose; move nigher, for -my voice is weak. Put that glass of wine close at -your elbow,—I shall want my lips moistened, for -my tale is long.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Do you know what it is to be young? Ah! -who does not? Youth is the heaven of our existence. -Every thing then is full of poetry. It is the -time for love, and song, and more than all for hope. -This glorious morning is a type of our youth. The -birds sing sweeter than ever; the winds have a music -as of heaven; the distant tinkle of the streams -is like a fountain-fall in moonlight, and the whole -earth seems as if it were one cloudless Eden, where -life would pass like a dream of sinless childhood. -Poetry! did I say? oh! what is like our youth for -that? But more than all, aye! more than music, or -beauty, or even those childish dreams, is the poetry -of a first pure love! I see by your countenance that -you have known what that is. God help me! it -has been at once the bliss and the bane of my existence.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I left the University rich, accomplished, and not -without academic fame. My parents were dead, -and I had but few relations. Life was before me -where to choose. I had every thing to make me -happy, but—will you believe me?—I was not so. -There was a void within me. I longed for something, -and scarcely knew what. It was not for -fame, for I had tasted of that, and turned sickened -away; it was not for wealth, for I enjoyed -enough of that to teach me, it would not satisfy -my craving; it was neither fashion nor ease, nor -the popularity of a public man; no, from all these -I turned away athirst for higher and loftier things. -What could it be? At length I learned. My life is -dated from that moment.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It was about a year after I had graduated, when, -sick of the world and its emptiness, I left the city, -in early summer for a stroll through the mountains -of the interior. You have often seen the hills of -the Susquehanna: well, I cannot stop to describe -them. I was enraptured with their beauty, and determined -to loiter among them until September, and -so dismissing my servant, I took lodgings in a quiet -country inn, and assumed the character of a mountain -sportsman. But I delay my story. Hand me -the wine and water.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It was on a sporting excursion that I first saw -my Isabel! Oh! if ever the ideal beauty of the ancients, -or the dreams we have in childhood of angels’ -faces, were realised in a human countenance, -they were in that of Isabel. There was a sweetness -about it I cannot describe; a purity in every line -which breathed alone of heaven. Do you not believe -that the face is the impress of the mind; that -our prevailing thoughts gradually stamp themselves -on our countenances, and that the sinless child and -the haggard felon alike carry the mark of their -characters written upon their brows? You do. -Yes! God branded Cain as a murderer, but it was -only the brand of his wild, terrible, agonising remorse.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“From the first moment of my seeing Isabel, I -felt that I had met with that for which I had so -long sought. The void in my bosom was satisfied. -I had found something holier and brighter than I -had deemed earth could give birth to, and I almost -worshipped the ground where she trod. I loved her -with all the poetry and fervor of a first love. She -did not seem to me like others of her sex. There -was a holiness cast around her like the mantle of a -seraph, which awed the beholder into a reverential -love. And oh! what bliss it was to gaze upon her -face, to hear her lute-like voice, and to feel that I -breathed the same air with herself.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Isabel was the daughter of a village clergyman, -who had been poor without being dependent. -Her mother had been dead for many years; and her -father had followed his wife but a few months before -I first met Isabel.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“How could I help loving such a being? Wealth -to me was no object: I looked not for it in a bride. -I sought for one in whom I might confide every -thought, and in finding Isabel my happiness was -complete.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Why should I delay telling the story of my -love? Day after day found me at the cottage of -Isabel, and day after day I grew more enraptured -with her artlessness. Together we read in the -mornings; and together we wandered out amidst the -beautiful scenery around; and together we sat in the -still evening twilight, when my greatest pleasure was -to hear her sing some of those simple little lays of -which her memory preserved such a store. Ah! -those were happy hours,—hours, alas! which can -never come again. From such meetings I would -loiter home beneath the summer moon, with a thousand -bright and joyous, yet undefined feelings, thrilling -on every nerve of my frame. And often, as I -turned to take a last look at the little white cottage, -embowered in its trees, I thought I could detect the -form of Isabel, standing where I left her as if she -still followed me with her eye.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It was not long before I declared my love to -Isabel, and found that it was returned with all -the fervor and purity of her guileless heart. Oh! -with what rapturous emotions did I hear the first -confession of her sentiments—with what delight did -I clasp her hand in mine, as her head lay upon my -bosom—what tumultuous feelings thrilled my soul, -as her dark eyes looked up into my own, with all -that purity and depth of affection which tell that the -soul of the gazer is in the look.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Well, we were married. It was that season -of the year in which all nature puts on her autumn -glory, and when hill and plain and valley are clothed -with a garmenture as of a brighter world. The -corn was yellowed for the harvest; the wild flowers -were fading from the hill-sides; the grapes hung down -in purple clusters from the old, twisted vines in the -woods; and the birds, that had been used to sing for -us, in every grove, were one by one disappearing, -as they took flight for the sunny south. But could -I miss their music while Isabel was by to whisper -in her fairy voice, or cheer me with her low and -witching minstrelsy? Was I not happy—wholly, -supremely happy? It was as if I dwelt in an -enchanted land. I forgot, almost, that I was a -member of society; saw but little company; and -spent the day with Isabel in rambling around the -mountain, or when confined by the weather to the -house, in a thousand little fireside amusements. We -talked of the past, of our plans for the future, of the -hollowness of the great world without, and of that -mutual love for each other which we felt could not -be eradicated by the power of a universe. Isabel -was all I had imagined her in my fondest moments. -Like myself, she turned away from the companionship -of a selfish world, and sought only to spend life afar -from human strife, secure in the possession of the -one she loved. Alas! little did she think that the -thunder-cloud was hanging, dark and lowering, -above us, which would eventually burst, and bring -ruin on our unsheltered heads.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“We saw but little company, I have remarked; -but among that little was one with whom, as -subsequent events developed, my destiny was -inextricably woven. He was an old classmate in -the University, whom I had casually met at the -neighboring county-town; where he resided in the -capacity of a medical man. Our former intimacy -was revived; for Robert Conway was really a -fascinating man. It was not long before he became -intimate with our little family, and, seduced by his -plausible demeanor, I not only engaged him as my -family physician, but entrusted him with the nearest -and dearest secrets of my heart. I felt the warmest -friendship for him, and, next to Isabel, there was -no one for whom I would have done so much. I -have told you of the poetic nature of my character; -you may have also noticed its warmth; and, in the -present instance, believing I had found a really -disinterested friend, I was hurried away into an -infatuation from which I awoke only to find that I -had clasped an adder to my bosom, and that—oh! -my God—all my hopes of life were blasted forever.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“The winter had already set in, when I received -a short letter from my town agent, requesting my -immediate presence in the city on business of the -last importance to my fortune. As Isabel was in a -weak state of health, and would not be able to -accompany me, I returned an answer, stating my -inability to comply with the summons, and declaring -my willingness to suffer even some pecuniary loss, -rather than leave her at that time.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“In less than a fortnight, however, I received a -still more pressing letter from my correspondent, -declaring that my absence had already prejudiced -my fortune, and that nothing but my personal -presence could, in the then distracted state of -monetary affairs, preserve myself from beggary. -This was an appeal which, for Isabel’s sake, I -could not resist. That the being whom I loved -above myself should be subjected to the miseries -of poverty, was a supposition too harrowing to -entertain.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Never shall I forget the eve of the morning on -which I departed. It was one of surpassing -beauty. The landscape without was covered with -a mantle of snow, and the trees were laden with -icicles spangled in the star-light. The heavens -were without a cloud, and the innumerable worlds -above, glittered on the blue expanse like jewels on -the mantle of a king. It was, in short, one of -those clear, cold nights in early February, when the -very ringing of a sleigh-bell can be heard for miles -across the still expanse of the landscape.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“As Isabel and I stood looking through the -casement at the brilliancy of the starry hosts on -high, a melancholy foreboding suddenly shot across -my mind that we were parting to meet no more. I -know not how it was, but the same feeling pervaded -the thoughts of Isabel; for as a meteor-star darted -across the sky, and instantly disappeared, she -heaved a sigh, and, turning toward me, said, as she -leaned upon my arm, and gazed confidingly up into -my face,—</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Do you know, George, that, during all the -evening I have been tortured with a foreboding that -our happiness is destined, like yonder shooting-star, -to last only for a while, and then pass away forever? -It may be that this is our last evening. I cannot -tell in what shape the impending evil will come,’ -she said, ‘but this I know, that be it what it may, -we shall always love each other, shall we not, -George?’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Yes, dearest!’ I replied, kissing her, ‘but -dismiss these gloomy thoughts; they arise only -from your ill-health. Believe me, we shall continue -for long, long years to enjoy our present felicity.’ -Ah! me, little did my own feelings coincide with -what I said. ‘Cheer up, dearest, I shall return in -a fortnight or so, and by that time shall be able to -assure you that I shall leave you no more.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“With words like these I attempted to remove -the forebodings of Isabel, but though she smiled -faintly in return, I found that I could not wholly -dispel the melancholy of her thoughts. I dreaded -the parting on the morrow, and accordingly, having -deceived her as to the hour of my setting forth, I -rose at day-break, kissed her as she lay calmly -sleeping, and, tearing myself from her, entered the -mail-stage, and before the hour when we usually -arose, was miles away from our habitation.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I reached the city, and found my fortune, -indeed, trembling on the verge of ruin. For some -days its preservation engaged every faculty of my -mind, and I found time for nothing else, unless it -was to read and answer the letters I daily received -from my sweet wife. The times were critical. -Stocks of every kind—and nearly my whole fortune -was vested in them—were undergoing a fearful -depreciation; and one or two heavy loans which had -been made out of my estate, and which completed -the balance of my wealth, were in a most precarious -situation. I soon found it would not only be impossible -to settle my affairs so as to rejoin Isabel at the -end of the fortnight, but that I must undertake a -journey, personally, to a southern city, which would -delay me at least a month more; and, accordingly, I -penned a hasty note to her on the eve of my setting -out, bidding her look forward, at the expiration of -this new term, to a happy meeting, and informing -her at what post-towns I should look for letters -from her.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I set forth on the ensuing day, but, though I -enquired at the various post-offices along my route, -where I expected letters, yet I did not receive a line -from Isabel; and the first epistle which I obtained -was a letter which I found lying for me, on my -arrival at the port of my destination. It had come -from P——, and was written prior to Isabel’s -knowledge of my second journey. I have it still -by me; every line of it is graven on my heart; my -only prayer is that it may be buried with me, for -alas!—it is the last letter I ever received from -Isabel.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“As day after day rolled by without receiving -any intelligence from her, I grew more and more -uneasy, until, as the term of my absence drew -toward a close, my sensations approached to agony. -A few disappointments I had borne with fortitude, -if not with calmness, for I knew that the mail was -not always regular; but when days grew into -weeks, and weeks had almost grown into months, -without the arrival of a single line from Isabel, -either directly from our residence, or indirectly by -the way of P——, nay fears grew insupportable. I -was like Prometheus chained to a rock, and subject -to a torture from which there was no escape. At -length I could endure it no longer, but hastily -bringing my business to a close, even at a considerable -sacrifice, I set out by rapid journeys toward -my home, without even passing by P——, such -was my eagerness to know what could have been -the cause of Isabel’s silence.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It was on an evening in the latter part of the -month of March, when my jaded horses drew up -before the gate of my dwelling. Hastily alighting, -I entered the little lawn, and was soon at my long-sought-for -threshold. But I started back at the -sight that met my eyes. The windows were dark -and cheerless; the grass was covered with leaves -and broken twigs; the knobs upon the door were -soiled for want of burnishing; and everything -around wore that appearance of loneliness and -desolation which marks an uninhabited house. -With a fainting heart I lifted the knocker. The -sounds echoed with hollow distinctness through the -house; but no one replied to the summons. Again -and again I repeated it; and again and again I was -unsuccessful. With a heart wild with the most -terrible fears I passed to the back part of the house; -but there, too, I found the same silence and desolation. -It was like the house of the dead. Unable -longer to contain myself I rushed back to my carriage, -and with an air that made the coachman -believe me insane, ordered him to drive to a neighboring -farm-house.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Who’s there?’ asked a female voice from -inside of the cottage, in answer to my impetuous -knock.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘I, madam, do you not know me? But where, -in heaven’s name, is Isabel? where is my wife?’ I -exclaimed, seeing by the astonished looks of the -woman, that she, too, believed me out of my senses, -‘what is the matter at my house, that I find it -closed?’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Oh! la,’ answered the woman, curtseying as -she held the candle to my face, ‘you are the gentleman -that lived at the big house nigh to the stage-road, -across the creek. Gracious me! how wild -you look. But, sit down, sir; we ain’t very nice -just now, for baby’s sick, and we can’t afford -help—’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Woman,’ I exclaimed, vehemently interrupting -her, and seizing her fiercely by the arm, ‘in God’s -name tell me all. Answer me at once—is my wife -dead?’ and though my voice grew husky, it trembled -not, as I put the fearful question.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Dead! why indeed I don’t know, sir,’ she -answered, tremblingly, awed by my wild demeanor, -‘for it’s been nigh a month since she left here to -join her husband.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘To join <span class='it'>me</span>!’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Yes, sir. Why didn’t you,’ she asked, perceiving -surprise in every feature of my countenance, -‘write for her? The neighbors all say so, and Dr. -Conway went to see her safe to town; though it’s -queer, now, since I think on’t, that he ain’t got -back agin by this time.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘My God,’ I exclaimed, staggering back, as a -fearful suspicion flashed across my mind, ‘was I -reserved for this? Oh! Isabel, Isabel—’ But I -could say no more. My brain reeled; my temples -throbbed to bursting; a strange, swimming sensation -was in my ears; every thing appeared to whirl -around and around me; and, losing all consciousness, -I fell back, senseless, on the floor.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“When I recovered my recollection, I was leaning -against the bed, and a group, composed of the woman -to whom I had been speaking, her husband, -and a farm boy, stood around me. My cravat was -untied, and my brow was wet with water.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘My good woman,’ I said faintly, ‘I feel better -now. Go on with your story; I can bear to hear -the worst. God help me, though,’ I continued, -placing my hand upon my forehead, ‘it has well -nigh drove me mad.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“She had, however, but little to tell, beyond -what I knew already. But her husband added, that -after my departure, he had noticed that not a day -passed without his seeing the vehicle of Dr. Conway -in front of my house; and that, too, long after the -returning health of my wife rendered professional -visits unnecessary. He had thought, he said, it -singular, but, as he was not given to gossip, he had -kept silence. About a month since, he added, the -house had been shut up, and, under pretence of rejoining -me, Isabel had set out, no one knew whither, -with my old classmate.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Oh! who can tell the feelings that, during this -recital, and for days after, raged in my bosom? -The evidence was unquestionable, irresistible, damning -in its character. And yet I could not—though -every one else did—believe Isabel to be guilty. She -was too pure, too artless, too ardently attached to -me. But, then again, how could I resist the testimony -staring me in the face? The visits of Conway; -his fascinating manners; the false report of my having -written for her; and her flight with the seducer, no -one knew whither, were circumstances which my -reason could not answer, whatever my assurance of -her love might persuade me. Who knows not the -pangs, the torments of uncertainty? And day after -day, while my enquiries of the fugitives were being -pushed in every quarter, did I fluctuate between a -confidence in Isabel’s purity, and the most fearful -suspicions of her faith. It was a terrible struggle, -that one in her favor. But at length, as every successive -informant brought new proofs of her infidelity, -I settled down into the agonising belief of her ruin.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Yet I did not give up my pursuit of the fugitives. -No—my God! how could I forget my -shame? The dearest hopes of my heart had been -overthrown, and she, in whom I had trusted as man -never before trusted, had wantonly deserted me—aye! -even while my own kisses were still, as it -were, warm upon her cheek. I had sacrificed -everything at the shrine of her love; was this the -return my devotedness had met with? What! she -whom I had pressed to my bosom as a wife,—she -whom I had made the incarnation of all ideal -loveliness, to be—oh! that I should have to speak -the word—a mere wanton. God of my fathers! -was this the destiny to which I was condemned?</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I am calmer now. I must hurry on, for my -breath is rapidly failing me. My brow burns: -bathe it—there, that will do. And open the window. -There is something in this gentle, balmy -breeze, fragrant with a thousand odors, which calls -back the memory of happy days, and almost makes -me weep. God grant that none of you may ever -suffer as I have suffered.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I pass by three months, three long and weary -months, during which I received no tidings of the -fugitives. They had never been in P——; even -my epistle announcing my departure to the south -had never been received by Isabel, but had been -sent, with most of the ensuing ones, as a dead -letter to Washington. I traced the fugitives only -for a single stage; there every clue to them was -lost. At length I was about giving over in despair, -when chance revealed what I had so long sought -for in vain.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Did you ever visit an Insane Hospital? You -start. Ah! you know nothing of its horrors unless -you have seen your dearest friend writhing beneath -the keeper’s lash, or chained like a felon by his -infernal fetters. Do you understand me? No! -the truth is too horrible for you to suspect. Well, -then, it was in visiting one of these loathsome -prison-houses that I saw and recognised, in one of -its miserable victims, my own, my lost, my now -suffering Isabel.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“You need not think that I shall grow phrenzied -by this harrowing recital. I have thought of it too -often, and endured subsequent agonies too great, to -suffer myself now to lose my reason in reciting it. -But neither will I dwell upon that awful meeting. -Suffice it to say that all my anger against Isabel -departed when I saw her, who had once lain pure -and trusting on my bosom, confined as a maniac, -in a public hospital. Oh! I would give worlds -could I shut out that horrid sight.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I soon learnt all from the keeper. Isabel had -been placed there nearly <span class='it'>four</span> months before, by a -woman I instantly recognised from his description, -to be the one I had procured at my marriage to wait -upon Isabel. She had stated that the patient was a -half sister, and had left an address where she might -be found.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“As the rules of the establishment precluded all -hope of my removing Isabel, in spite of my protestations -that I was her husband, unless I brought her -pretended relative, to corroborate my account, I was -compelled to rest satisfied with the melancholy pleasure -of knowing, that her disease should receive at -my expense, the attention of the best physicians, -and with the renewed hope of discovering her waiting -woman, and thus removing my wife from what -I felt was worse than death. Guilty as she was, she -was still my wife, and I could not utterly desert her.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I entertained little doubt of discovering this woman, -although as might have been supposed, her -address was fictitious. I had, in fact, a means of -finding her out which I did not scruple to adopt. She -had been an English woman, and had often boasted -of rich relations across the Atlantic, to whom in -her simple vanity, she one day expected to be heiress. -As I knew that, at most, she could only have connived -at my wife’s disgrace, and as I knew also that -money was the touch-stone of every avenue to her -heart, I had no doubt whatever as to the success of -the scheme I intended to put in execution. It was simply -this: I caused an advertisement to be extensively -circulated, describing her and her relationship to her -English cousin, and informing her that if she would -apply at a certain office in P——, she would hear -of something to her advantage. The bait took. -She came in person; I was instantly sent for, and -confronted her. But to come at once to the conclusion -of this part of my story; she owned, upon -my threats, and promises of forgiveness with a large -sum of money if she would confess all, that she could -satisfy every particular as yet unknown to me, of -this melancholy tragedy.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“She stated, in effect, that Conway, from the first -moment he had beheld Isabel, had entertained a -passion for her, which neither the favor he had received -from me, nor her own purity, nor the impassable -barriers against its gratification, had enabled him -to conquer. Indeed it is questionable if he ever -cared to do so. Wilful, headstrong, remorseless, -and careless of every thing but the gratification of -his desires, he was perhaps one of the most hardened -villains that ever cursed mankind; a villain the -more dangerous, because his fascinating manners -enabled him to wear the guise of virtue, and perpetrate -his infamous designs without suspicion. But -in laying himself out to seduce Isabel, he capped -the climax of his villainy. For a long time, however, -he only attempted to gain the good will of Isabel, -and to seduce by large presents, her waiting woman -to his side. As yet he had not ventured to breathe -a word of his unholy passion to its object. But my -departure opened new hopes. Flattered and deceived -by the attentions paid him by Isabel,—attentions -which I now learned with the wildest joy, were -only paid to him because he was my friend,—he -now resolved to make a bold throw in his perilous -game. He knew my writing well. In a word, he -forged a letter purporting to be from me, to Isabel, -requesting her to join me in P——, under his escort; -and by these means he placed my unhappy wife -wholly in his power. As she would not travel without -her waiting woman, he was forced to make her -his confidant, and purchase her secrecy by large -sums of money. But why linger on this awful history? -Demons themselves would shudder at its -relation. I cannot—yes! I must tell it. Repulsed -by Isabel with scorn, when, on the second day, he -ventured to declare his passion, he told her, with the -mockery of a fiend, as he pointed to the lonely inn -where they then were, that resistance was useless. -Yes!—here, hold down your ear, closer, let me -whisper it only; he used force; God of heaven, -there was none to save her from the monster’s fangs!</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“There—there—it is over: unhand me I say. -But forgive me: I am well nigh crazed: I know -not what I do. Some of that drink. Bless you -for fanning my poor, aching brow; I believe sometimes -that I am becoming a child again. Those -tears have relieved me. I am so weak now that -they come involuntarily into my eyes, but time was -when it seemed as if they had been dried up forever -at their fountain, and when, in my unutterable agony, -I would have given worlds to weep.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I forgot to tell you that I felled that hag to -the ground like an ox, when she told me that -fearful tale. I could not help it. A woman! and -stand by merciless! Oh! my God it was too much.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“And Isabel then was innocent. Aye! it had -driven her mad. Oh! I could have crept on my -hands and knees to her feet, for a whole life-time; -if by so doing I could only have won from her -forgiveness, for suspecting for a single moment, -her angel purity. But it was not so to be. It -was my fitting punishment. In the inscrutable -designs of that Providence, before whose bar I -shall so soon appear, it was decreed that I should -never more see Isabel in the possession of her -reason. She died. I had only time to hurry from -that strange recital to behold her last moments. -Never, never shall I forget that sight.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“She was evidently in the last stage of her -malady when I entered the chamber where she -lay; and as she turned her wild, and wasted, but -still beautiful countenance toward me as the door -opened, I burst into a flood of tears, and could -scarcely stagger to a seat at her bedside. I -suffered more—will you believe it?—in that moment -than I had ever done before. Our first -meeting; our early love; our auspicious union; -our days of after felicity; that long to be remembered -night of our separation; and all the hideous -succession of ensuing events whirled through my -brain as if a wild, shadowy phantasmagoria was -revolving, with the swiftness of thought, around -me. But more than all my injustice toward her -smote me to the heart. Could I look upon that -emaciated face, in every line of which was stamped -sufferings the most extreme, and not feel its silent -though unconscious reproaches? I bent over and -kissed her cheek. As I did so a hot tear-drop fell -upon her face.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Who is it weeps?’ faintly said my dying wife, -looking vacantly into my face, ‘ah! I know you -not. You are not him. When will he come, -when will he come?’ she continued, in a plaintive -tone, drawing tears from every eye. She was -dreaming still that she awaited my return at our -far-off-home. Thank heaven! all else was forgot.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“At this moment one of the physicians entered -the room. Noiseless as he was, her quick ear -detected his footstep. She turned quickly around: -a look of disappointment stole over her face. She -shook her head mournfully.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Why don’t he come?’ she murmured, ‘ah! -he has forgotten Isabel. Well,’ she continued, in -a tone that almost broke my heart, ‘he may desert -me, but never can I desert him.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Isabel—Isabel,’ I ejaculated, unable longer -to contain myself, ‘for the love of heaven speak -not so. Isabel, dear Isabel, do you know me? -Oh! you do. Say, only say you do: one word. -Oh! my God, she will never awake to reason.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Did you talk of Isabel?’ she said, looking -inquiringly up into my face, and for an instant I -fancied the light of intellect shone across those -pale, wan features. But alas! if so, it faded like -it came. In another moment her eyes assumed -their former vacant, yet sorrowful and imploring -expression, and turning away she began to sing a -snatch of an old song I had taught her in the days -of our courtship.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It flashed across me that, by singing the following -verse, I might possibly touch a link in her -memory, and recall her to reason. I mentioned it -to the physicians. They implored me to do so. I -obeyed.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Who sang that?’ suddenly exclaimed the -sufferer, starting half up in bed, and looking eagerly -around, ‘it seems, I do believe, as if it was the -voice of George,’ and lifting up her hand to command -silence, she bent her ear down to catch the -sounds.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“There was not a dry eye in the room. My -own tears came fast and thick; and my utterance -became so choked that I could not proceed.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“The hopes we had again entertained by her -sudden question, seemingly so rational, were the -next instant dissipated, by her dropping her hand, -and sinking back upon the pillows, in a state approaching -to insensibility. Need I delay? From -that stupor, gradually becoming deeper and more -profound, she never awoke; or rather awoke only -in that better world where she found relief from -all her sorrows, and where, if earthly suffering, or -earthly purity can avail aught, she is now one of -the brightest of the redeemed.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Ah! you may well shed tears. It were enough -to make angels weep, that death-bed! Night and -day, in illness or health, here or in another continent, -that closing scene of her life has been present -to me, urging me on to avenge her wrongs.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“We buried her. Far away from the spot where -she died, amid the green old hills of her birth, and -in the quiet, little church-yard where her father and -mother slept, we laid her down to her rest; and my -last prayer is that I too may be buried there, side -and side with that sweet suffering angel.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I was from that moment her <span class='sc'>Avenger</span>. I -sought out her waiting woman again, and learning -from her all the information she could give me -respecting the retreat to which Conway had fled, I -set out in his pursuit. But her information was too -scanty to avail me aught. Conway had left her -money enough to bear his victim to P——, and -then, alarmed at the catastrophe, fled she knew not -whither. Once or twice since, however, he had -remitted her small sums of money by mail, enjoining -on her continued secrecy. The letters were post-marked -New York.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Thither I went. But all my enquiries were -useless. After a search of a month I was no -nearer to the attainment of my object, than on the -day when I first set forth in pursuit of Conway.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“But did my zeal abate? How could it when -that death-bed scene was ringing its cry for vengeance -night and day in my ears? No. I had -stood beside the grave of Isabel, and vowed to be -her <span class='sc'>Avenger</span>: I had repeated that vow, night and -morning since; and I would spend the last cent of -my fortune, and go to the uttermost end of the -earth, but what I would yet fulfil the oath.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“At length I obtained a clue to Conway’s retreat. -He had sailed from New York five months before -for London, under an assumed name. I now felt -sure of my prey.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“On my arrival at that vast metropolis, I instituted -a cautious enquiry after his present abode, -which I felt certain would ultimately place him -within my grasp. Meantime I began a course of -daily practice at a neighboring pistol-gallery, and -soon became so proficient that I could split a ball, -at twelve paces, nine times out of ten, upon the -edge of a knife. Nor did I neglect fencing. I -became by constant attention an invincible swordsman.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“But months, aye! years elapsed, and still he -evaded my grasp. He hurried from one land to -another, under a dozen disguises, but though delayed -by my anxiety to be perfectly certain of the road -he had adopted, I was ever like the blood-hound -on his path. Fly where he would, the <span style='font-size:smaller'>AVENGER OF -BLOOD</span> was behind him. Thrice he flew to Paris, -once he hurried to Rome, twice he hid himself in -the Russian capital, four times he visited England -under different names, two several times he crossed -and re-crossed the Atlantic, and once for nearly a -whole year, during which he went on a voyage to -Calcutta, I almost lost sight of him. But I recovered -the clue at his return. Years had only -whetted my appetite for revenge. My determination -was when I met him, to goad him by insult -into an honorable encounter, and if this could not -be done, to shoot him in the street like a dog.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Fortune favored me at length. It was scarcely -a month after his return from the East Indies, when -I learned that three days before he had set out for -Paris. Thither, like the angel of death, I pursued -him.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It was the second night of my arrival at Paris, -when I stepped into a noted gambling-house in the -Rue des ——. The apartment was brilliantly -lighted, and in the ostentatious luxury of its furniture -reminded one of a fairy palace. It was -densely crowded. I sauntered up to a table where -they were playing <span class='it'>vingt et un</span>, and carelessly -threw down a guinea upon the chance. I won. -I was about turning indifferently away, when an -individual approached the table, whom, even under -his disguise, I recognised, in a moment, to be -Conway. He threw down his stake. At that -instant his eye caught mine. Never had I seen -human countenance change so fearfully as his did -during the instant of recognition. It quivered in -every nerve. He turned paler than ashes. I -looked at him, for a moment, sternly and calmly. -His eye fell before mine. In an instant, however, -he recovered, in a measure, his equanimity, and -turning away with an air of affected indifference, -whistled a careless tune. I stepped up to him.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Dr. Conway,’ said I, ‘you are a scoundrel.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Sir, sir,’ stammered the abashed villain in -French, affecting not to know me, ‘you mistake -your man. <span class='it'>I</span> am Monsieur De Rivers, at your -service.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Monsieur De Rivers then, if you please,’ said -I, tauntingly, ‘I congratulate you on understanding -a language which you affect not to be able to -speak.’ The villain crimsoned and was abashed. -‘But think not you shall thus escape. <span class='it'>You are -my man</span>; and without regard to the name under -which at present you choose to go, I pronounce -you again to be a scoundrel.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘I—I,’ stammered Conway, ‘know you not. -The gentleman is mad,’ he said, with a faint smile -of contempt, turning to the crowd which had now -gathered around us. A scornful look was the only -reply. One of them even went so far as to say, -shrugging his shoulders,</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Sacre—why don’t you fight? Can’t you see -the gentleman <span class='it'>means</span> to insult you.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Crazy, did you say, villain?’ I exclaimed, -stepping up to Conway, ‘I am sane enough to see -that you are a coward as well as a scoundrel—do -you understand me now?’ and deliberately taking -him by the nose, I spat in his face.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘By God, sir,’ said he, his face blanched with -rage, making him, for one moment, forget his fears, -‘this is too much. I am at your service. Here is -my card. When shall it be?’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘The sooner the better,’ I hissed in his ear, as -he turned to leave the room. ‘Let it be to-night.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Gentlemen,’ interposed a French officer, whom -I knew casually, approaching us at my beck, ‘this -matter had better be settled at once. Had it not?’ -he continued, turning to Conway, or rather to an -acquaintance of his, whom my enemy had singled -out from the crowd as we left the room.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Yes! let it be at once—here,’ exclaimed -Conway, almost foaming with rage.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘At once then,’ said the two seconds, simultaneously, -‘step this way.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“We followed as they lead; and passing up a -staircase before us, we soon found ourselves in a -small, dimly lighted room, about twelve feet square.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘We shall be free from observation here,’ said -my second, as he closed and double-locked the -door.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“During this brief remark the other officer had -been engaged in an earnest conversation with his -principal; and after a silence of some minutes on -our part, he crossed the room, and addressed a few -words to my second. After the other had ceased -speaking, he continued silent for a few minutes. -At length, however, he said,</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Well, I will make your proposition;’ and -turning to me he continued, ‘I suppose you are -scarcely willing to apologise. The demand comes -from your opponent.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Never,’ said I.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Then the affair must proceed.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Gentlemen,’ said Conway’s second, ‘how do -you fight? As you are the challenged party the -choice is with you!’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘With pistols—at once—in this room,’ answered -my second.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I observed the cheek of Conway blanch at -these words, and his eye became wild and unsettled. -He muttered something about the police, the possibility -of an interruption, and the unseasonableness -of the hour. Even his own second could not restrain -an expression of disgust at his cowardice.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘I can scarcely hold a pistol, much less hit a -mark with one,’ whispered Conway to his second; -but in the death-like silence the remark was heard -distinctly throughout the room.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Sacre,’ muttered the officer addressed, but -checking his anger, he turned around, and asked -our party if we should be put up across the room.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘No,’ said I, ‘Dr. Conway has declared he -knows nothing of the use of the weapon I have -chosen. Villain as he is, I do not wish to take -advantage of him. Let us fire across this table,’ -said I, touching one about four feet wide with my -foot, ‘or if that will not suit him, we will cut for -the highest card, and the loser shall bare his breast -to the pistol of the other.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘My God! do you mean to murder me?’ said -Conway, trembling like an aspen, and scarcely able -to articulate.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Murder you! No, miscreant, though <span class='it'>you</span> have -murdered one dearer to me than life—one, whom -friendship, if not gratitude should have preserved—one -who now lies in her early grave; while you, for -years since her death, have been insulting man and -God by your continued existence.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘What do you choose?’ asked my second -sternly, as soon as I had ceased, ‘it were better for -all that this matter should be closed at once.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘We cut for the chance,’ said Conway’s second.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“The cards were brought, shuffled, and placed -upon the table. I signed to Conway to take one. -He stepped hurriedly up, and with a trembling hand, -drew. It was a king. A smile of sardonic triumph -lighted up every feature of his countenance. -My second looked aghast. Yet, in that moment, -my confidence did not forsake me; not a nerve -quivered, as I advanced proudly to the table and -drew my card. <span class='it'>It was an ace.</span></p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Oh! my God, it is all over,’ almost shrieked -the miserable Conway, flinging his card down in -despair, ‘is there no hope?’ he said, turning wildly -to his second, ‘oh! shew me a chance,’ he continued, -addressing me, ‘for my life. Don’t murder -me in cold blood. Don’t—don’t—don’t,’ and he -fell on his knees before me, raising his hands imploringly -to me, while the big drops of sweat rolled -from his face.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Take your place across the table,’ said I sternly -to him, ‘put a pistol into his hands. Villain as he -is, he is too miserable a coward to be shot down -unresisting—though he would have granted me -no such favor had the chance been his.’</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“They placed him in his position. No words -were spoken. Not many seconds elapsed before the -word was given, and we both fired simultaneously. -I felt a slight, sharp puncture in my side; -and I knew I was wounded. But as the smoke -wreathed away from before me, I beheld Conway -leap toward the ceiling convulsively, and fall, the -next instant, dead across the table. He had been -shot through the heart. Isabel was <span style='font-size:smaller'>AVENGED</span>.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I fled from Paris. I reached here, saw you, -have adjusted my affairs under your supervision, and -am dying of that wound.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Reader, that night he expired.</p> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:right;margin-right:3em;margin-top:0.5em;'>D.</p> - -<div class='blockquote'> - -<p class='pindent'><span style='font-size:smaller'>Philadelphia, December, 1840.</span></p> - -</div> - -<hr class='tbk111'/> - -<div><h1><a id='lang'></a>LANGUAGE OF THE WILD FLOWERS.</h1></div> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p> -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY THOMAS DUNN ENGLISH, M. D.</p> -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p> - -<h2 class='nobreak'><span class='it'>I. Solanum Dulcamara.</span> Deadly Nightshade.</h2> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>             DEATH.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>  I hear thy step afar—</p> -<p class='line0'>    I see the flashing of thy blade</p> -<p class='line0'>  Out-blazing like a meteor star,</p> -<p class='line0'>    Thine eyes are peering from the shade,</p> -<p class='line0'>  Burning with smouldering flame;</p> -<p class='line0'>Thy voice is as a woman’s wail,</p> -<p class='line0'>Thy face is bloodless all and pale,</p> -<p class='line0'>  A mockery to fame.</p> -<p class='line0'>Thou sportest thee a shad’wy robe—</p> -<p class='line0'>Thy fingers grasp an air-built globe—</p> -<p class='line0'>A mighty scorn is on thy lip,</p> -<p class='line0'>        Haught skeleton!</p> -<p class='line0'>Thy wrath is straining on the slip</p> -<p class='line0'>        Unearthly one!</p> -<p class='line0'>Fire leaves thy nostrils—plague thy breath;</p> -<p class='line0'>Fear is thy handmaid—thou art Death!</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>Smile not so grimly—though an hour</p> -<p class='line0'>May find me powerless in thy pow’r,</p> -<p class='line0'>And subject me to thy control,—</p> -<p class='line0'>’Twill be my body—not my soul,</p> -<p class='line0'>        There victor, I defy thee.</p> -<p class='line0'>For though thou mayest seize my form,</p> -<p class='line0'>Devote my body to the worm—</p> -<p class='line0'>And all the grave’s corruption—HE,</p> -<p class='line0'>The maker both of thee and me,</p> -<p class='line0'>        Decreeth to deny thee</p> -<p class='line0'>Presumptuous one! all power to inherit,</p> -<p class='line0'>That portion of his breath which is my spirit.</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<h2 class='nobreak'><span class='it'>II. Sambucus Canadensis.</span> Elder.</h2> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>          BE COMPASSIONATE.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>The wind blows cold—yon poor, old man</p> -<p class='line0'>  Seeks pity for his woe,</p> -<p class='line0'>For naught hath he to bear him on,</p> -<p class='line0'>  Though a long, long way to go,</p> -<p class='line0'>All houseless, homeless, weak and tired,</p> -<p class='line0'>  While friends are far away,</p> -<p class='line0'>His clothes are tattered—locks are white—</p> -<p class='line0'>  Oh! pity him, I pray.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>His wife is dead—his children gone,</p> -<p class='line0'>  He knoweth not where but far;</p> -<p class='line0'>The sun’s bright light he seeth not,</p> -<p class='line0'>  Nor light of moon nor star.</p> -<p class='line0'>For God hath taken sight away,</p> -<p class='line0'>  Hath bent him as you see;</p> -<p class='line0'>And made his limbs as thin and weak</p> -<p class='line0'>  As those of a withered tree.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>A very little from your wealth,</p> -<p class='line0'>  Some coppers more or few’r—</p> -<p class='line0'>Will get him a morsel of bread to eat,</p> -<p class='line0'>  And cannot make you poor.</p> -<p class='line0'>Give alms! the memory will be</p> -<p class='line0'>  A balm unto thy heart,</p> -<p class='line0'>A spring to thy limbs—a sight to thine eye—</p> -<p class='line0'>  And joy to ne’er depart.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>Oh! curl not thy proud lip, nor turn</p> -<p class='line0'>  Thy form away in pride;</p> -<p class='line0'>As <span class='it'>he</span> is, <span class='it'>you</span> may be e’er long,</p> -<p class='line0'>  When woes of life betide.</p> -<p class='line0'>Then as a wearied, blasted man,</p> -<p class='line0'>  From door to door you go—</p> -<p class='line0'>You’ll think with tears of when you scorned</p> -<p class='line0'>  The humble blind man’s woe.</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<h2 class='nobreak'><span class='it'>III. Juniperus Virginiana.</span> Cedar.</h2> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>             WINTER.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>The winter has come, and the skaters are here</p> -<p class='line0'>        With a falchion of steel</p> -<p class='line0'>        On each manly heel,</p> -<p class='line0'>To strike the ice with a stroke of fear;</p> -<p class='line0'>And to make the victim the story tell,</p> -<p class='line0'>With a voice as clear as a tinkling bell.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>The winter has come, and he howls at the door,</p> -<p class='line0'>        And puffing his cheeks,</p> -<p class='line0'>        He whistles and shrieks,—</p> -<p class='line0'>A shriek of ill-will to the suffering poor,</p> -<p class='line0'>That maketh the widow clasp her sons,</p> -<p class='line0'>And huddle together her shiv’ring ones.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>The winter has come, and the sorrow besides,</p> -<p class='line0'>        And the poor man’s breast</p> -<p class='line0'>        Can know of no rest,</p> -<p class='line0'>While his life’s troubled torrent onward glides,</p> -<p class='line0'>But when ’tis exhausted, the poor will share</p> -<p class='line0'>A place with the rich, and no winter is there.</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<div class='blockquote'> - -<p class='pindent'><span style='font-size:smaller'>Philadelphia, December, 1840.</span></p> - -</div> - -<hr class='tbk112'/> - -<div><h1><a id='prog'></a>MY PROGENITORS.</h1></div> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p> -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY S. W. WHELPLEY, A. M.</p> -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Mr. Lowman in his treatise on the civil government -of the Hebrews, remarks, that their careful -attention to genealogy was a distinguishing trait in -their national policy. From considering the Hebrews -who glory in their descent from the most -renowned patriarchs, I was led to reflect on the -probable influence which the same custom would -have upon other nations. Indeed I have often -admired the general indifference of mankind to the -names and history of their ancestors; especially -considering the veneration which all men feel for -every thing that wears the marks of antiquity.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>From a few obvious principles I shall endeavor -to state the benefits which I consider would result -to mankind from the universal prevalence of the -custom of keeping an exact genealogy in families. -It would be a perpetual source of entertainment -and pleasure. Who would not feel gratified to -look back upon the line of his ancestors, and see -their names, characters, occupations, place of residence, -and time when they lived? They would also -open numerous and extensive sources of friendly -attachment, by closing the ancient alliances of interest, -honor, consanguinity and friendship, which -subsisted between our forefathers, who perhaps -fought side by side in battles, ploughed the seas -together, or shared the common danger of exploring -and settling new countries.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Genealogical study would operate as a stimulus -to laudable ambition, and would enkindle a sense -of honor. If a man’s ancestors were mean and -low, he would often be struck with the animating -thought of raising the reputation of his race. If -they were high and honorable, he would, at times, -be jealous of their honor, and feel strongly prompted -to emulate their virtues.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Could every man trace back his line, it would -level many useless distinctions; for it would appear, -that some who are ostentatious of their descent and -blood, have beggars, bandits, and the humblest cottagers -for whole series of links in their chain. That -others who are now low and indigent, could look -back to lords, princes, and monarchs, who dwelt in -“cloud-capt towers and gorgeous palaces.” In -fine, it would appear that the descending line of -generations is ever wavering, now elevated, now -depressed. The grandfathers and grandchildren of -lords may have been porters, footpads, or slaves.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The other evening, while investigating a knotty -point, I prosed myself into a deep sleep, and dreamed -out the sequel. It would be better for many -metaphysicians, moral philosophers, and writers of -all classes, if they did the same.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I thought I was still pondering on the subject -of Genealogy, and considering with what curiosity -and pleasure I could look back on the line of my -ancestors to the grand progenitors of our race, -when suddenly there appeared before me a winged -fantastic figure, answering in some measure to the -description of Iris. Her flowing robes were of -various and varying colors; her eye was penetrating -but never fixed; and her aspect might be compared -to the shade and light wandering over the folds and -margin of a summer cloud. I knew her instantly -to be one of the airy powers that preside over -dreams.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She informed me that she was empowered to -give me a view of <span class='it'>my ancestors</span>, and bade me attend -her. Not knowing whither she intended to -conduct me, or in what form of vision I was to be -enwrapt, a chill of terror and ineffable awe rivetted -me to the spot. Turning eastward she beckoned -me with her hand, and with easy volition, we rose -to the region of the clouds. We continued to -move with inconceivable speed, till the Atlantic -rolled beneath our feet, and we directly alighted -on Plinlimmon in Wales.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I was now a little recovered from my surprise, -and was delighted to see <span class='it'>the venerable seat of my -forefathers</span>. I could evidently discern the meanderings -of the Severn and Dee, although by distance -diminished to a thread. Numberless villages and -flourishing farms lay extended in various directions, -and I looked with great curiosity over the rocky -hills and blue ridges, where a hardy race of men -were once able to resist the impetuous armies of -the Henrys and Edwards.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Here my conductress presented me with a perspective -of most wonderful powers. It would not -only magnify objects to their natural size, but this it -would do even at any assignable distance. Within -the external tube was a sliding barrel, graduated -into sixty circles. My guide informed me that a -circle denoted a century, and that when the barrel -was drawn to the first circle, I might look back -one century; and so of all the rest.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Upon this she drew the barrel to the second -circle, and presented me the instrument, impatient -to try its astonishing powers. Looking through it -I saw a face of things entirely new. James the I. -had just ascended the throne of the United Kingdoms. -I was looking around to observe the appearance -of the country which had flourished long -under the happy reign of Queen Elizabeth. My -guide asked me if I could discern a cottage at the -foot of the mountain. “That,” said she, “is the -dwelling of your ancestors in the male line.” The -moment I espied the cottage, which was low and -poor, an aged man came out. His figure was tall -and erect—his head quite gray—his look was -grave, forbidding, and shaded with melancholy.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>My conductress succinctly told me that he had -long since buried his wife, and all his children, -excepting one son, who was then at sea—that his -father was killed in battle, and that his grandfather -had emigrated when a youth from Germany. -Without further words she took from me the perspective, -and the scene of modern times changed.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>We immediately mounted on the wing, and -again moved eastward. As we passed over London -I was not a little gratified by a transient glance of -that majestic city, the noblest in Europe, and most -commercial in the world. The forest of towers, -the waters, all white with sails, and the country all -covered with villages, by turns caught my eye; but -I travelled too much in the manner of young noblemen, -who take the tour of Europe, to make very -particular remarks; since our route from Plinlimmon -to the banks of the Danube took up but about five -minutes. We now stood on a rising ground, having -on our right the city of Presburgh, and on our left -majestically rolled the Danube. The country appeared -beautiful, but I noticed, with regret, various -vestiges of tyranny and misery in the appearance of -an abject multitude.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The fantastic power now drew out the third -circle, and looking through the perspective I beheld -a scene in the reign of Maximillian the I. The -comparison was truly at the expense of the present -day: a bold and manly race appeared, in general -of larger size and nobler form. Their thoughts -seemed full of freedom, and their general air was -martial and independent. With something that appeared -like the first dawn of modern refinement, -there was a strong tinge of unpolished and simple -manners. While I stood in high expectation every -moment of seeing another of my ancient fathers, -there appeared a royal personage at the head of a -splendid retinue of chariots and horsemen. It was -the emperor Maximillian himself, who, at that time -was at Presburgh, and was on a party of pleasure -that morning on the banks of the Danube. I gazed -at his majesty, who was a man of uncommonly fine -presence, and said, how happy should I be should -he prove to be the man I am in quest of.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>My guide soon dashed my hopes, by desiring me -to observe the coachman of the last carriage,—“That,” -said she, “is the man!” I began to fear -that my blood</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“Had crept thro’ scoundrels</p> -<p class='line0'>    Since the flood.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>I observed that I had always understood my -ancestors <a id='were'></a>were from Germany, but never knew till -now that they were <span class='it'>coachmen</span>—she smiled and -bade me not be disheartened. He was a perfect -Scythian, and seemed to look like one of the vilest -of the human race; there being not discernible in -his features any sentiments of honor or humanity. -“He is,” continued my guide, “the son of a Tartar -by a German mother. His father was one of the -wandering tribes that dwelt, at times, near the Bosphorus -in Circassia, and on the borders of the Caspian -sea.” I wanted no more, but, delivering her -perspective, I stepped back into 1840, and was -more than ever struck with the wide difference -which the flight of three centuries had made in one -of the most warlike nations of the world.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Germany! how art thou fallen? Thy councils -are divided—thy heroic spirit fled—thy warriors -are become women! I consoled myself, however, -that my father was a German coachman in the -fourteenth, and not in the nineteenth century.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>We rose once more, and passed over rivers, solitudes, -morasses, forests, lakes and mountains, and -at length alighted on an eminence near the mouth -of the river Wolga. My guide, not leaving it -optional, drew the glass to the sixth circle. I -shivered in every nerve to think that my forefathers -for such a period of years, had lived in the dreary -regions of mental darkness. But could they have -been tossed less at random, or enjoyed a milder -sky in any of those countries where Rome had -once displayed her eagle?</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The Wolga is one of the largest rivers in the -world. It rises in the Russian empire, and receiving -a multitude of tributary streams, it winds a -course of three thousand miles, and pours an immense -volume into the Caspian sea. Through its -whole course, it is said, there is not a cataract. It -rolls majestically, with gentle current, through extensive, -rich and beautiful plains, diffusing every -where luxuriant vegetation and exhaustless abundance. -Near the sea, it branches and forms a -number of pleasant and beautiful islands.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>On one of these we stood, and, for a moment, -surveyed the romantic scenery. Near us was a -Russian castle and garrison, and the island, which -had been used as a military station since the reign -of Peter the Great, was guarded by strong fortifications, -and enriched with an infinite number of -boats and vessels, and defended by ships of war and -gallies.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I now looked through the glass, which threw me -back six hundred years. How surprising was the -change! One half of the island was a forest. The -other half was occupied by a spacious camp, containing -innumerable wheel carriages of singular -forms. Before me lay a great army marshalled -for parade. I was struck with their uncommon -dress and armor; and presently more so, by a sight -of their council chief, who occupied an elevated -platform, and seemed at that moment engaged in -deep consultation.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>At the head three seats were raised above the -rest, on which sat three personages of the greatest -dignity. The central one, said my guide, is none -other than Genghis Khan, and in him you behold -your ancestor. He is now holding a council of -war, and deliberating on an invasion of China. -But you have little reason to boast of your descent -from one who has destroyed fifty thousand cities. -His tyranny and the perfidy of his queen have -roused a conspiracy, which, though it will not -destroy him, will imbitter his future life. Beneath -a dark brow his fierce and jealous eye seemed to -dart the fires of glory and valor into every surrounding -breast. Yet he looked like one on whose -heart the worm of care unceasingly preys, and who -is inwardly consumed by the fires of ambition.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Leaving him, however, to his fate, my guide gave -the signal of departure. We crossed the Caspian -sea, and the Circassian mountains. The dominions -of the ancient Medes and now of the Persians, -passed beneath us. In a few moments we alighted -on a hill which commanded a view of the fair and -delectable vales of Sheeraz, the most celebrated province -in Persia. Sublime conceptions struck my -fancy as we were travelling the region of the -clouds, when I saw stretched out on one side the -vast ridges of Mount Taurus, and far distant on -the other, the plains where Darius and Alexander -fought. A sigh rose at the remembrance of the -great cities and powerful empires which once flourished -there.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Before me was the vale of Sheeraz, for many -miles in extent. The surrounding mountains were -covered with vines, and widely extended prospects -of rural felicity in that happy region. Innumerable -flocks and herds were scattered over the hills, the -shepherds and shepherdesses looked gay, all nature -was blooming, and the Persians, brave, polite, and -elegant in every age, seemed the happiest people -upon the face of the earth. The sun shone with -peculiar smiles from the cloudless azure, and far remote -the calm billows of the Persian Gulf, drew a -silver line on the horizon.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>On this hill, said my conductress, once dwelt your -ancient fathers. At this she drew the glass to the -twelfth circle, making from the Wolga a transit of -600, and from this of 1200 years. I looked eagerly -through the prospective, and there arose before me -a scene of unspeakable horror and desolation. An -immense horde of barbarians was ravaging and -destroying the whole country. Their faces flashed -with fury. They were swift and fierce as tigers. -The villages and hamlets, as far as could be seen -were in flames; heaven was obscured by smoke; age, -infancy, innocence, and beauty, were mingled in indiscriminate -slaughter; and blood poured in all directions.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>They rushed into a house which stood near me, -dragged forth its inhabitants, and cut them in pieces. -The parents and the children were mangled and -slain together. A little infant only was left, and -that, to all appearance, by accident. It was flung -upon the ground, and lay wallowing in the blood of -its parents, weeping at its fall, although insensible -to its deplorable condition. Behold, said my guide, -<span class='it'>your ancient father</span>. The existence of numerous -generations depends on his preservation, and from -him multitudes shall descend. Astonished at man’s -inexplicable destiny, I gazed, admired, and wept.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>At length a female barbarian came up. She was -black, filthy, deformed, hideously savage, and resembled -a harpy. She spied the weeping infant, and -a sensation of humanity stole upon her heart. -Kind nature, and compassion to man, has implanted -those heavenly sensibilities in the rudest and most -degenerate of her children. She took up the babe, -and seemed to sooth it. She wiped away its tears -and blood, laid it in her bosom and darted out of -sight. The glass dropped from my hand, and I -stood rivetted in silent astonishment.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>That child, resumed my companion, is carried -into the bosom of Scythia; there becomes first a -robber, then a chieftain, afterward a sage. His descendants -dwelt at times in India, in the islands, in -Tonquin, in China, in Tartary; and a last issue, as -you have seen, was the conqueror of Asia. O Providence! -how unsearchable are thy ways! What -beings of light, what fiends of darkness, are among -thy children. O listen to the fervent aspirations of -a worm, and if thine ear is not inexorable, smile on -their destiny.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>As the glass dropped, the modern vale of Sheeraz -returned and as soon vanished. Passing over Palestine, -the Levant, Archipelago, Greece and Italy, -our next stand was on the banks of the Tiber, among -ruined monuments of ancient Rome. The remains -of arches, towers and temples, porticos and palaces, -where the Cæsars and Scipios once lived, lay before -me. A gloomy grandeur covered the scene with -awful solemnity, and filled my soul with sensations -equally sublime and melancholy.</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“There the vile foot of every clown,</p> -<p class='line0'>Tramples the sons of honor down,</p> -<p class='line0'>Beggars with awful ashes sport,</p> -<p class='line0'>And tread the Cæsars to the dirt.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>My airy governess now drew the glass beyond -the eighteenth circle. I looked through it and beheld -Rome at the zenith of her ancient greatness. -A forest of towers covered her seven hills. Never, -even in imagination, had I beheld so grand a scene. -Her temples, domes and structures, rose and expanded -on my view, and at once displayed the glories of -that queen of cities. Noble and beautiful villas -covered as far as the eye could see, the banks of -the Tiber: and the whole prospect appeared as -though the wealth, the arts, sciences and elegance -of the world, were collected to adorn and beautify -the scene.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>In the forum a vast assembly of people were listening -to the address of an orator, who, from his -dignified and commanding manner, I took to be -Cicero. My guide assured me it was none else. -His attitude, his gestures, his whole manner, were -sublime. He was pleading for Milo. The occasion -had drawn together an innumerable throng of spectators. -I admired the elegance of the criminal: his -appearance was firm, heroic, and great. Pompey -was present at the head of a select body of troops.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I have seen no man in modern times who can -bear a comparison with Pompey. He had the qualities -of great men with a dignity peculiar to himself.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>On high glittered the Roman eagle, and the whole -group of objects appeared with a majesty and resplendence -not to be described. The judges, the -criminal, the orator, the general, the nobility of -Rome, the army and the spectators, possessed a -grandeur of countenance which might have induced -one to imagine that all the fine and noble countenances -in the world had been collected together.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>After indulging my curiosity for a moment, my -guide showed me <span class='it'>my ancestor</span>. He was a common -soldier, and stood near the general, appearing to belong -to his life guard. He listened with deep attention -to the orator; and at times, roused by the powerful -flights of unrivalled eloquence, seemed to lay his -hand upon his sword, ready to draw it in defence of -innocence.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>His descendants, continued my conductress, accompany -Trajan in his expedition into Asia, -where, after various turns of fortune, some of -them, as you have seen, settled in the vale of Sheeraz. -Here, I must remark, that I was more interested -than I had been before, for, upon noticing him -more particularly, I found him perfectly to resemble -my father in stature, proportions, and countenance.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The next field of discovery carried me back to -the Trojan war. The celebrated city of Troy, and -the Phrygian shores, the fleet and army of Greece, -now engaged my whole attention. I was not a little -gratified to have a glance at a scene which has -filled the world with noise, and been so famous in -poetry. Yet I must confess my expectations were -not fully answered. The Grecian chiefs appeared -with far less splendor than they are made to exhibit -under the glowing pen of Homer. I liked Ulysses -the best of any of them. He was a sturdy old fellow, -and although in appearance somewhat of a -barbarian, yet he was strong, manly, and sagacious, -equally able to ward off as to meet danger. I -hoped now my ambition would be crowned by finding -Ulysses among my progenitors. My guide, however, -directly pointed out to me <span class='it'>Thersites</span>, assuring -me that he was the very man. To save time, I -will give a description of him, as we find it in Pope’s -translation of Homer:</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>Thersites clamored in the throng,</p> -<p class='line0'>Loquacious, loud and turbulent of tongue,</p> -<p class='line0'>Awed by no shame, by no respect controlled,</p> -<p class='line0'>In scandal busy, in reproaches bold:</p> -<p class='line0'>His figure such as might his soul proclaim,</p> -<p class='line0'>One eye was blinking, and one leg was lame,</p> -<p class='line0'>His mounting shoulders half his breast o’erspread,</p> -<p class='line0'>Thin hair bestrewed his long mishapen head,</p> -<p class='line0'>Spleen to mankind his envious heart possessed,</p> -<p class='line0'>And much he hated <span class='it'>all</span> but <span class='it'>most</span> the <span class='it'>best</span>.</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>Ugly as Thersites was, I thought it, however, no -small honor to be descended from one of the conquerors -of Troy, and I intend at a convenient time, -to consult the ancient critics, to see whether Homer -has not been guilty of detraction in stating the character -of Thersites.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>From Troy the genii lead me directly to Mesopotamia, -and we halted in the midst of an extensive -morass, a wild and trackless wilderness, inhabited -by noxious reptiles and wild beasts. Presenting -me the glass, she told me to make the best of -it as this would be the last opportunity. Under the -eye of the perspective the scene presently kindled -with glowing colors and magnificent prospects. In -the midst wandered a spacious river, the circumjacent -grounds, although reclaimed from their native -state, afforded those rural wild and romantic scenes -indicative of the <span class='it'>morning of improvement</span> and invention. -Thousands of people appeared busy in -building various structures. Many were leisurely -roving in the gardens and groves along the river -banks. Contentment and tranquility smiled, labor -went on with cheerfulness, and the orders of superiors -were obeyed with a rude but lofty air of conscious -freedom.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>My conductress asked me whether I had yet noticed -the <span class='it'>Tower of Babel</span>? On which, turning to -my right, I saw, not far off, that massive structure. -Its elevated summit rising toward the clouds, seemed -indeed to threaten heaven. I could not but remark -how much I had the advantage of Herodotus and -some of the other Greek Philosophers, who viewed -that Tower in a state of decay, and yet gave a most -wonderful account of its greatness. I was now -fully sensible that this was the seat of the first of -empires, and was beginning to observe more attentively -several things, when the appearance of some -personages, at the head of a troop of horse, attracted -my notice. Two personages of majestic port, followed -by a numerous train, now drew near. Before -them the statue of Apollo Belvidere would have -appeared diminutive.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>You see, said my guide, Nimrod and Ham. The -former was in the bloom and vigor of manhood. -In his eye the fire of ambition burned, and all his -actions bespoke haughtiness, ostentation and authority. -He was the true and original founder of the -science of war and despotism.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>In the appearance of Ham there was something -almost more than mortal. His deportment was -grave, thoughtful, and gloomy. His snowy locks -fell over his shoulders which the flight of centuries -had not bowed, and his venerable beard swept a -breast where the secrets of wisdom seemed deposited. -But yet his eye was fierce and cruel, and gave sign -of his inward depravity.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Whilst I was scrutinising to discover marks of -consanguinity, my guide pointed me to a little fellow -just by me who was <span class='it'>making brick</span>. There, -says he, is <span class='it'>your progenitor</span>. His face was an isosceles -triangle; and a long sharp nose and chin -gave him the air of complete originality. He is, -continued she, a true and legitimate offspring of Japhet. -And now, having favored you more than I -ever did any other mortal, to give you complete satisfaction, -know, that from Noah to yourself there -have been one hundred generations; and in your -line there have been one King, five Princes, seven -Butchers, eight Sages, five Commanders, ten Magicians, -six Pilgrims, fourteen Soldiers, twenty Husbandmen, -seventeen Mechanics, fourteen Sailors, -thirteen Shepherds, eleven Beggars, eight Philosophers, -twelve Robbers, ten Hermits, nine Warriors, -and one Author.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Moreover, some of this illustrious line were present -at the confusion of Babel, at the sack of Troy, -the battle of Pharsalia, the destruction of Palmyra, -the burning of fifty thousand cities in India and -China, the defeat of Bajaret, the assassination of -Henry the Fourth of France, the Powder Plot, and -many other great events. Here I awoke, and behold! -it was a dream.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And now the information I would make of the -knowledge derived front my dream, is to publish -forthwith an address to all the sons of Adam, demonstrating -the importance of keeping an exact -genealogy. The plan of which address is developed -in the following articles.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I.—The seven subsequent years must be employed -in exploring the generations that are past; and as <span class='it'>I</span> -should be obliged to go to Wales and Germany, -most of us to Europe and perhaps some to Asia, if -not to Africa, I believe there had better be an armistice; -for this business cannot be accomplished -without an universal peace.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>II.—The scheme of Leibnitz of an universal language, -might also in that time or a little more, be -matured. For in order to know the fair Asiatics -and Africans, we must certainly have a common language.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>III.—When the scheme is effected, men will see -more and more the importance of improving their -race. Upon this discovery a Science will arise of -infinitely greater glory and utility than that of War. -Nations will cross their breed as much as possible; -and a wife from India or the South Sea, will be -prized more than a ship-load of silks.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>IV.—Every man who dies without an issue is the -<span class='it'>end of a line</span>. He is like a thread cut from a weaver’s -web, and never joined again, or like a river -that perishes in the sands of Africa, and never -reaches the ocean. The plan contemplated, therefore, -will excite in men a universal desire to propagate -their species. Every man will see the folly and -criminality of remaining single, and the horrid impiety -of exposing his life in war before he has tied -himself to some future generations. He will view -it as risking the extermination of an endless chain -of beings equally important with himself. And -when he has become a parent, he will view it still -more impious to hazard his life in any way, now -become necessary for the preservation and care of -his children.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>V.—Thus the <span class='it'>art of killing</span>, which has been the main -business of nations, will be superceded by that of communicating, -preserving and improving life. And in -future generations the names of heroes and conquerors -will be eternized only by their infamy, as -crimes are recorded in law Books, preceded by prohibition -and followed by penalty. The ages of war -will be regarded as the period of universal destruction, -or rather as the <span class='it'>period in which the human -race had not yet acquired the use of reason</span>. Then -Philosophers and Philanthropists will be celebrated, -and a man will only be considered as great as he is -known to be <span class='it'>good</span>.</p> - -<div class='blockquote'> - -<p class='pindent'><span style='font-size:smaller'>December, 1840.</span></p> - -</div> - -<hr class='tbk113'/> - -<div><h1><a id='sold'></a>A SOLDIER’S THE LAD FOR ME.</h1></div> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p> -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY A. M‘MAKIN.</p> -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>          There’s a charm in the fame</p> -<p class='line0'>          Of a soldier’s name,</p> -<p class='line0'>With his colors so gay, and his spirits so light;</p> -<p class='line0'>          At his bold command,</p> -<p class='line0'>          No lass in the land,</p> -<p class='line0'>Can withhold from his prowess her smile so bright,—</p> -<p class='line0'>With his nodding plume, and his manners so free,</p> -<p class='line0'>A soldier—a soldier’s the lad for me.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>          At fete or at ball</p> -<p class='line0'>          He is courted by all;</p> -<p class='line0'>His step is the lightest that trips in the dance,</p> -<p class='line0'>          With his sword on his thigh,</p> -<p class='line0'>          And a smile in his eye,</p> -<p class='line0'>Each belle doth acknowledge his bow and his glance,</p> -<p class='line0'>With his nodding plume, and his manners so free,</p> -<p class='line0'>A soldier—a soldier’s the lad for me.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>          When there’s mischief to pay,</p> -<p class='line0'>          He is first in the fray,</p> -<p class='line0'>Nor blanches when death-shots are falling around,</p> -<p class='line0'>          With a tear for the foe</p> -<p class='line0'>          In the battle laid low,</p> -<p class='line0'>He sheds not till victory his valor hath crown’d;</p> -<p class='line0'>With his nodding plume, and his manners so free,</p> -<p class='line0'>A soldier—a soldier’s the lad for me.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>          In his wild bivouac,</p> -<p class='line0'>          With his cup and his sack,</p> -<p class='line0'>His sweetheart remember’d with heart, and with soul;</p> -<p class='line0'>          To beauty a fill,</p> -<p class='line0'>          And a cheer with a will,</p> -<p class='line0'>While each comrade to friendship is passing the bowl.</p> -<p class='line0'>With his nodding plume, and his manners so free,</p> -<p class='line0'>A soldier—a soldier’s the lad for me.</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<div class='blockquote'> - -<p class='pindent'><span style='font-size:smaller'>Philadelphia, December 20, 1840.</span></p> - -</div> - -<hr class='tbk114'/> - -<div><h1><a id='blind'></a>THE BLIND GIRL.</h1></div> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p> -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY MRS. C. DURANG.</p> -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Can nothing induce you to give up the idea of -going to the ball to-night, my dear Maria?” said -the anxious Mr. Worthington, “our dear little -one seems quite unwell, and surely the loss, or -rather the exchange of one pleasure for another, -can not be so distressing, particularly when the -one is of so evanescent a nature as a rout.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“What good could I possibly do the infant?” -was the reply to this kind expostulation of her -doting husband; “you know Sarah is quite accustomed -to her, and really I think it ridiculous that -you should wish me to stay home; but lately you -seem to rack your brains to contrive what means -you can devise to thwart my wishes: if I ask for -anything that will cost the slightest extra expense, -the reply is: ‘we can’t afford it.’ Pray how do -other people afford to live in more style than we -do, with less income than ours?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Unfortunately, they <span class='it'>cannot</span> afford it,” said Mr. -Worthington; “and we see the consequences daily. -Many of the enormous failures that have lately -occurred, might have been prevented, but for the -spirit of rivalry that fashion has instilled into the -families of many of our merchants and citizens.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“So,” said Mrs. Worthington, “because people -fail, I am to be deprived of everything I wish for, -and kept at home to see whether the child is <span class='it'>going</span> -to be sick. I am sure I have taken every precaution -to prevent its crying after me, for I have -carefully covered its eyes every time I have nursed -it since its birth. Nay, I do not let it come into -the room where I am without something thrown -over its face, that it may not know me; so that if -I was to remain home to watch it, it would neither -be better nor wiser; nay, it might frighten her to -see a strange face.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Mr. Worthington paused for some time, confounded -by his wife’s unnatural exultation, and -want of affection for her infant, at last he exclaimed, -with considerable sharpness,—“<span class='it'>Have you a -heart?</span>”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I <span class='it'>once</span> did, and <span class='it'>do still</span>, possess such an article, -notwithstanding I presume you consider yourself -the proprietor.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It must be small indeed,” said Mr. Worthington -with a sigh.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Large enough for it to admit the whole circle -of my friends,” added the lady.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I fear it will soon be untenanted, then,” uttered -Mr. Worthington as he left the room, finding it -was impossible to dissuade her from her purpose, -and discovering, too late, the misery of being -united to one whose education had unfitted her for -a wife.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Maria Wilson was an only child. At an early -age she was left to the direction of a mother, -whose partiality for her daughter blinded her to all -her errors. The best affections of her heart had -been neglected, their place had been allowed to be -usurped by pride, arrogance, and self-sufficiency. -Their means were circumscribed and insufficient to -enable her to shine in the gay world, although her -beauty was well calculated to attract the admiration -of those who moved in it, and her sole ambition -seemed to be to gain pre-eminence there, so -that when Mr. Worthington, young, handsome, and -rich, offered his hand, it was not rejected:—he -viewed her faults with the fondness of a lover, and -deceived himself into the belief that, once his, he -could mould her disposition to whatever he wished -it to be; but, after marriage, she launched into the -vortex of fashionable life with enthusiasm, regardless -of consequences; she was courted and caressed; -in vain he entreated, in vain he expostulated; the -wish of her heart was gratified; the goblet of happiness, -as she thought, was at her lips, and she -was determined to quaff it to the dregs; misfortune -had not yet taught him to despair, and hope still -upheld him; he looked forward to the time when -she would become a mother, when the bonds of -nature would form a fresh tie with those of affection. -But, alas! he was doomed to be disappointed; -the little stranger was viewed as an intruder, whose -smile was not allowed to meet the mother’s eyes; -she mourned that the <span class='it'>fashion was past</span> for children -to be put out to nurse, and never suffered it to be -brought <span class='it'>to her without its face being covered</span>, that it -would not fret for her absence. Every request -from her husband to avoid unnecessary expenses, -were recorded as evidences of his want of love, or -as proofs of a contracted and narrow disposition.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She went to the ball,—and, when she returned, -her little infant, Adela, lay at the point of death. -For the first time, a pang of regret and remorse -stung her bosom; repentance caused her tears to -flow, as she became a voluntary watcher of its sick -bed. Oh! how anxiously did she endeavor to behold -one look from those eyes she had so often -concealed from hers; she feared they were closed -never to be opened again. She sat in silence and -despair, endeavoring to catch the sound of that -voice whose plaintive wail she had so often despised, -but for two days its heavy breathing alone -reached her ear.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Providence ordained that it should recover. On -the third day it opened its eyes, those eyes which, -for the first time, met those of its mother, and as -she beheld it smile, a beam of newly-kindled affection -woke in her breast; she caressed her child, -but it turned from her, and sought the face it had -been accustomed to behold; she endeavored in vain -to gain the affection of the slighted child; it clung -to its nurse, Sarah, who loved her with a mother’s -fondness. After many fruitless efforts to regain -the treasure she had lost in her infant’s smiles and -love, she abandoned the attempt, and with the -child’s return to health, she returned to her old -routine of levity and frivolity. Unthinking woman! -how little did she reflect what labor of mind, and -sacrifice of personal comfort her husband daily -endured. Of what utility was his splendidly furnished -house to him? Surely he merited at least her gratitude, -when it was for her gratification that his -hours were passed in his homely counting-house, -where dreariness was banished by the excitement -of business. The wooden chairs, the maps on the -wall, the perpetual almanac, table of interest and -foreign exchange, pasted in formal array, formed a -strong contrast to the splendid rooms where the -draperied windows admitted the softened light, -which reflected on gilded mirrors, and carpets, -where mingled the colors of the rainbow, to blaze -in beauty; while the rich vases, filled with flowers, -rivalling in beauty the choicest exotics in their -hues, would tempt the looker on to believe it was a -paradise. And such it would have been to him in -his hours of relaxation, could he but have secured -the affections of his Maria there; but fashion was -the forbidden fruit, and vanity the serpent; they -both proved irresistible; her beauty was the theme -of universal admiration; it was that which first -attracted him, when he sought her heart and hand. -But the movements of the heart are imperceptible, -its pulsations are uncontrollable, and it will sometimes -appear to vibrate on slight occasions. Alas! -he too late discovered that with hers it was but the -echo of ambition, pride, or vanity that had touched -its chords; love had never been awakened in her -bosom.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>As Adela advanced in years, the subject of her -education engrossed much of her father’s thoughts; -it was there he felt most severely his wife’s deficiency -of duty. A mother’s watchful care is necessary -for her daughter’s welfare. No one but her -can guard the mind, and guide it through that ideal -world, which the youthful imagination creates, and -wherein it wanders, bewildered by false hopes and -illusive joys.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>There is no country whose system of female -education is free from error. The elite of England -and America select the fashionable boarding schools -for their daughters to finish their studies in; where, -unfortunately, the adornment of the person, and -flippancy of manner, often supercede the adornment -of the mind. Can parents reflect that the conclusion -of a female’s education requires <span class='it'>their</span> care the -<span class='it'>most</span>, and that the dashing boldness of manners, too -often learned at a fashionable school, is but the -mask which covers ignorance, and bravados out the -want of merit? How much less estimable is the -character of such a female than the modest, timid, -but firm being who has received and finished her -education under the watchful guidance of that mother’s -eye, whose anxious glance searches unto the -soul of her charge, guarding it from evils that -threaten and too often besiege the senses, till confusion -and desolation leave the fair fabric a monument -of ruins for parental fondness to mourn over.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>In France the convent is selected, in a measure -secluded from the influence of fashion: there the -mind is more unfettered by folly, and becomes prepared -to receive necessary instruction. Hence they -are more capable of encountering the vicissitudes of -life, and prepared for that intercourse which French -women are allowed in society. Thus their minds -become strengthened; no nation has produced so -many celebrated women as France.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>An English husband condemned for treason will -be allowed to linger in prison, unless the entreaties -and petitions of his wife and friends have sufficient -influence to procure his release; if they fail, she -sinks beneath the weight of her misfortunes, and -an early grave yields repose to the bruised spirit: -not so with the French woman; it awakens all the -energies of her soul; every effort is made; every -stratagem is resorted to; the prison doors though -barred, are still accessible to love, artifice, and ingenuity, -these combined, generally contrive to elude -the vigilance of the keepers; thus Madame Lavalette, -Roland, and several others, have given bright -examples of what fortitude, education, and energy -may achieve; thus the Bastille’s dungeons have been -insufficient barriers to the influence of the French -women.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>As time passed on, the aspect of Mr. Worthington’s -affairs seemed to become less prosperous; day -after day losses occurred, until at last his bankruptcy -served to convince his wife that his admonitions -had not been needless; remorse again visited -the unhappy woman; she felt that her husband’s -forbearance had been great; and determined that -the neglect of her first born infant should be amply -atoned for, by double attention to the second, whose -birth was now at hand.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>After Mr. Worthington’s bankruptcy, it became -necessary that he should leave his native place, and -enter into business where it might prove more successful; -he settled his wife in a small house till he -should be enabled to send for her, and for a short -time enjoyed more comfort than when splendor -shone around them; they looked forward with hope -and joy to the time when they would behold a child -that would be mutually attached to each.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The infant was born; a lovely girl, but alas! its -eyes were denied to see the blessed light of heaven! -<span class='it'>It was blind!</span></p> - -<p class='pindent'>The wretched, self-convicted, soul-struck woman -dared not complain; conviction of her errors bowed -her spirit to the earth; what would she not now -have given to recall some years of her past life? -But it was too late, and the only resource now left -her, was to submit with resignation to her fate.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>After Mr. Worthington had departed for the -Island of Martinque, his wife had to struggle for -the maintenance of her children till he should be -enabled to establish himself in business; she proposed -opening a seminary, and called on some of -those friends whose presence had often enlivened -her assemblies, and who had partaken of her hospitality. -One had just sent her children to Mrs. ——, -who was all the ton. Another thought it would be -better style to have a governess in the house; and -if she thought she could take the entire charge of -the children, she would have no objection to give -her the preference, if she could make the terms very -low; others were “not at home” when she called—while -some more candid than the rest—at once -informed her, that any other occupation would be -more suitable to her as her former dislike to children -could not be so easily overcome; among -them were those, who with sneers, regretted the -change in her circumstances.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Thus it is to live in the world without studying -human nature. We will be sure to find nought but -disappointments, if we trust to those we meet in -the giddy throng of fashionable assemblies; they -are like the fleecy vapors that float over the blue -expanse, their brightness is only the reflection of -the light by which they are surrounded, and their -aspect is as changing. The human family taken in -the mass collectively, are cold and senseless, the -philanthropic sensations of the heart are extinct, -and an apathetic illusion usurps the place of the -genuine effusions of benevolence, with which the -refined soul overflows when in its unsophisticated -state; it is in the domestic circles that friendship is -found, given, and reciprocated, it is there that the -best human feelings reign monarchs; but in the -busy scenes of life, coldness, and contempt are -the answers to an appeal for compassion and humanity.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>With a mind forlorn and desolate, Mrs. Worthington -sought consolation from her children. The -cherub smiles of one yielded it; but the early affections -of the other had been blighted by its mother’s -neglect, and it sheltered itself among strangers. It -was no longer swayed by the same gentle passions, -but fierce and uncontrolled, they became an ocean -of contending emotions.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Adela, at the age of sixteen, eloped with a -young man, whose worthless character precluded -any chance of felicity for the unhappy girl, and -added to the tortures of the miserable parents: but -the winning softness, and amiable disposition of the -sightless Isabella, made ample amendment for all -her mother’s misfortunes. With calmness and -cheerfulness she bore her calamity: “What,” said -she, “though darkness is over those veiled orbs; -my <span class='it'>mind’s</span> vision sees beyond this world, the mental -light that flashes through the long vista of existence, -gleams with brilliance to direct my course. -Why should I sigh to <span class='it'>behold</span> this world? Do I -not enjoy the delightful fragrance of the earth’s -flowers, and am I not nourished by its fruits? Do -I not possess the affections of those I love, and -has not the philanthropy of man instructed (us -children whose existence is one still night of calm,) -in reading, working, and employing ourselves usefully, -so that we feel not that the light of day is -darkened from our view?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>And truly might it be called useful, for by her -efforts she had supported her mother during a long -sickness. The physician, Dr. Morris, that attended -Mrs. Worthington, beheld the beauty of Isabella; -respect and humanity first guided him to the assistance -of a lovely, interesting creature, who deprived -of one of the most essential faculties of our nature, -exerted those she still possessed for the support of -her mother. Her progress in music had been so -rapid that before she had been two years under the -instruction of one of the directors of the institution -for the Relief of the Blind, she was even enabled to -fill the situation of principal chorister in a church. -<span class='it'>That</span> respect soon ripened into love, and she only -waited the return of Mr. Worthington to bestow -her hand on one altogether worthy of the amiable -girl.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The many years that passed with Mr. Worthington, -wherein all his efforts proved unsuccessful, -finally broke his spirits. Every prospect of raising -his family to their former splendor proved unavailing; -the separation from his wife had not been -felt by him as severely as it would have been, had -not her conduct, during the early period of their -marriage, alienated his affections; thus those -disappointments, which at the time he deplored, -proved to be mercies, that in the end were as -beneficent as the morning and evening dew which -temporises the soil for the fruits it is hereafter to -produce.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The final blow was yet to come. He had determined -on returning to his native land, and settling -in some humble manner of life—when a letter -arrived, informing him that his daughter Adela was -not expected to live. He immediately arranged his -affairs, and departed for those shores which blighted -hopes had driven him from in despair.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The sun was about to set, as Dr. Morris sat by -the bedside of the dying Mrs. Worthington. Isabella -knelt by the side of her mother, and breathed -a secret prayer, that the spirit of her parent might -be permitted to remain on this earth till the return -of her father. Every knock at the door for the -last three weeks, had awakened in her bosom a -throb of expectation, hoping it might be him. An -awful pause ensued, as her last wish and prayer -ascended to heaven; it was interrupted by the heavy -breathing of the sufferer; when a step was heard -approaching the door, it opened, and her father -stood there. A shriek from her mother acquainted -her, whose eyes were denied the sight of him, that -it was him to whom she owed her being, that had -come.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“My prayer is heard,” said she, “father let your -daughter receive a second blessing, He who is in -heaven, ‘the Father of all,’ has already blessed me, -by your presence. Mother rejoice, our prayers are -heard; and if it is His will that you should soon -return to your heavenly home, you can bear with -you the last embrace of him you so wished to see, -to be assured you die with his blessing on your -head.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Bless you, my child! bless you, my wife! but -there is <span class='it'>one</span> that craves <span class='it'>your</span> blessing, Maria, if you -have yet the strength: it is indeed, needed.” He -waited not for a reply, but left the room, to which -in a few moments he returned, bearing in his arms -the wasted and almost inanimate form of Adela; -the last effort of nature gave almost supernatural -strength to the mother; she caught her child in her -arms, they were folded in one long embrace: the -spirits of both departed together. Heaven! in -mercy, veiled the sight of so much misery from -Isabella; she felt that a solemn scene had passed in -her presence, but she knew not the full extent of -its horrors.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It was the last trial Mr. Worthington had to -endure. The union of Isabella with Dr. Morris -banished every solicitude; and taught him that the -goodness of God is shown most conspicuous, when -by granting those wishes that seem opposed to -<span class='it'>His</span>, our <span class='it'>folly</span>, and His <span class='it'>wisdom</span> is manifested.</p> - -<div class='blockquote'> - -<p class='pindent'><span style='font-size:smaller'>December, 1840.</span></p> - -</div> - -<hr class='tbk115'/> - -<div><h1><a id='pine'></a>TO THE PINE ON THE MOUNTAIN.</h1></div> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p> -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY LYDIA JANE PIERSON.</p> -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p> - -<div class='dramastart'><!----></div> - -<p class='dramaline-cont'>Thou giant Pine of patriarchal years,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>O’er the rock helm of the stern mountain bending,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  As watching yon glad river, which appears</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Like a bright dream through bowers of beauty wending.</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  Mocking thy bleak and solitary pride</p> -<p class='dramaline'>With warm and flowery scenes, and soft wings gleaming,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  Bright fountains laughing on the mountain’s side,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>’Neath bow’rs of blossom’d vines, profusely streaming.</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  And sigh’st thou o’er those visions of delight,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>As my lone bosom o’er the glowing treasures</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  Which live in fancy’s realm before my sight,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Mocking my spirit with ideal pleasures?</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  Or art thou holding converse with the wind,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Waving majestic assent to some story</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  Of mournful interest, how thy stately kind</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Have perish’d from the places of their glory?</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  Or are ye talking of the noble race</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Stately as thou, with the wind’s freedom roaming;</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  Who o’er these mountains once pursued the chace,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Or stem’d the river at its spring tide foaming?</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  Oh knew I all the legends of the past!</p> -<p class='dramaline'>With life and love, and death and sorrow teeming,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  On which thou hast looked down, since first the blast</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Play’d with thy plumes, in morning sunlight gleaming.</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  Thou’st seen the free born hunters of the wild,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Chasing the fleet deer in his antler’d glory;</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  Or with his chosen maid, rich nature’s child,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Breathing in whispers love’s ungarnish’d story.</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  And thou hast seen him on the mountain path,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Victor and vanquish’d, fleeing and pursuing,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  Conquer’d and writhing with vindictive wrath,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Or agonising o’er his nation’s ruin.</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  While the fierce conqueror gaz’d with gloating eye</p> -<p class='dramaline'>On mangled forms, in mortal anguish lying;</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  Or where the wigwam’s flame was wreathing high,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Showing its inmates, wild with terror flying.</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  Seemed he not king-like, with his plumy crown,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>And like a tiger, streak’d with hideous painting!</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  With hand that sought no treasure but renown,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>And heart that knew no fear, and felt no fainting.</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  Full many a time, perchance beneath thy shade,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>The youthful sachem stood with pride surveying</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  His wide domains, and the soft valley’s shade,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Where through the bowers his dark-eyed love was straying.</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  Yet sometimes still there comes a wasted form,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>With locks like thine, by many winters faded;</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  Well has he brav’d the battle, and the storm,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>The sachem whom thy youthful branches shaded.</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  Ye are a noble pair, ye stand the last,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Each of a noble race; and ye are staying</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  Magnificent mementoes of the past,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Glorious and wonderful in your decaying.</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  And thou dost toss thy branches to the wind,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>And sigh sad dirges of thy perished glory;</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  And he is brooding, with a saddened mind,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Over a perish’d nation’s wrongful story.</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  A few more years, and the wild eagle’s wing</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Shall seek his long-lov’d rest with mournful screaming;</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  A few more years, and no dark form shall cling</p> -<p class='dramaline'>To this stern height of perish’d glory dreaming.</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  And who will mourn when thou art lying low,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>And o’er thy shattered limbs green mosses creeping;</p> -<p class='dramaline'>  What noble heart will melt with generous woe,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>When the last warrior of his race is sleeping?</p> - -<div class='blockquote'> - -<p class='pindent'><span style='font-size:smaller'>Liberty, December, 1840.</span></p> - -</div> - -<hr class='tbk116'/> - -<div><h1><a id='reefer'></a>THE REEFER OF ’76.</h1></div> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p> -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY THE AUTHOR OF “CRUIZING IN THE LAST WAR.”</p> -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1em;font-weight:bold;'>THE RESCUE.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“God bless you!” said my old schoolmate, -Harry St. Clair, to me, on a bright morning in -April, 1776, as I shook his hand for the last time, -and leaping into the stern-sheets of the boat, waved -my hand in adieu, and bade the crew, with a husky -voice, give way. I could scarcely trust myself to -look again at the group of old classmates crowding -the battery, for a thousand memories of the past -came crowding on me as I gazed. The tears, -despite myself, welled into my eyes. Determined -that no one should witness my emotions, I turned -my face away from the crew, affecting to be engaged -in scanning the appearance of the brigantine -destined to be my future home, the <span class='sc'>Fire-Fly</span>.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>She was as beautiful a craft as ever sat the -water. Her hull was long and low, of a mould -then but lately introduced. There was no poop -upon her quarter deck, nor was she disfigured by -the unsightly forecastle then in use. Never had -I seen a more exquisite run than that which her -glossy hull developed; while her tall, rakish spars, -tapering away into needles, and surrounded by -their cobweb tracery of ropes, finished the picture. -She was, indeed, all a sailor’s heart could desire. -When I stepped upon her decks my admiration -increased to a ten-fold degree. She had seemed -from the water to be a craft of not more than a -hundred tons burthen; but the illusion vanished on -ascending her side, when you found yourself on -board of a brigantine of not less than thrice that -size. Her well-scraped decks; her bright burnished -binnacle; the boarding-pikes lashed to the main-boom; -the muskets placed in stands abaft the -main-mast; the nicety with which even the smallest -rope was coiled down in its place; the guns ranged -along on either side under her bulwarks, and especially -the air of neatness, finish, and high discipline -perceptible about her, convinced me that I was -embarking on board a man-of-war of the highest -professional character. In fact I knew Captain -Stuart’s reputation to be that of a rigid disciplinarian.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Mr. Parker—glad to see you,” said my superior, -as I touched the deck and raised my hat, -“you are punctual, but allow me,” said he, turning -to an officer on his right hand, whom I knew to -be his lieutenant, “to present you to Mr. Lennox—Mr. -Lennox, Mr. Parker.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The usual salutations were exchanged; the boat -was hoisted in; and I dove down into the mess-room -to stow away my traps. It was full of -officers. The second lieutenant, the purser, and -my three fellow reefers greeted me heartily, as they -rose from a long, narrow table, on which was a -formidable display of salt junk and old Jamaica.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Just in time, Parker,” sang out my old -crony, Westbrook, “we’re stiffening ourselves to -keep up against the fog outside. Push the bottle, -Jack—a cut of the junk for Parker—and as -there’s nothing like beginning right, here’s a -jolly voyage to us.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The toast had just been drunk, amid a whirlwind -of huzzas, when the shrill whistle of the boatswain -shrieked through the ship, followed by the hoarse -cry, “all hands on deck, ahoy!”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>In an instant the gun-room was deserted, and -we were at our several posts; while the gallant -brigantine echoed with the tramp of the crew, the -orders of the first lieutenant, and the monotonous -creaking of the windlass, as the anchor was being -hove up to the bows.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>By the time the anchor was catted the morning -sun was just beginning to struggle over the heights -of Long Island; and as the mists upon the water -curled upward in fantastic wreaths beneath his rays, -the head of our brigantine began slowly to incline -from the breeze. In another instant, as her sails -filled, the water could be heard rippling under the -cut-water. Then as a sudden puff of wind pressed -her down toward her bearings, and we shot rapidly -ahead, the bubbles went whizzing along her sides, -and eddying around her rudder, swept away astern -in a long and glittering wake.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>I stood, after the bustle of making sail was over, -gazing on the scenery around me, with feelings such -as I had never experienced before. It was to be -my first voyage in a man-of-war: I would soon, -doubtless, imbrue my hands in the blood of my -fellow men; and I myself might never return alive -from my cruize. I could not help, therefore, being -filled with strange and new emotions, as I leaned -over the taffrail, gazing on the now fast-receding -town, and recurring, again and again, to the many -happy days I had spent in my native city, and to -the dear faces there which I might never see again. -But gradually these feelings were lost in the admiration -enkindled in my bosom by the beauty of the -surrounding scenery.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It was indeed a glorious sight which opened -around me. Right in the wake of the brigantine -lay the city, still partly shrouded in the morning -mists; while the back-ground was filled up by a -range of uplands, through which a narrow opening -disclosed where the Hudson rolled his arrowy -course. To the right lay Governor’s Island, the -East River, with its shipping, and the verdant -shores of Long Island; while on the left rose up -the bluff highlands of Staten Island, emerging, as -it were, from a cloud of mist, and crowned with -antique farm-houses, rich fields of verdant grass, -and here and there a strip of woodland, as yet -sparsely decked with its new-found leaves. Directly -ahead were the Narrows, with the frowning heights -on either hand; while a white, glittering line on -the horizon without, and the long, undulating swell, -heaving in through the streight, betokened our near -approach to the ocean. A few sails flashed in the -distance. All was still, beautiful, and serene. Occasionally, -however, the measured sound of oars -would give token of a passing fishing boat, or a -snatch of a drinking song would float from some -craft idly anchored in the stream. A few gulls -screamed overhead. A flock of smaller water-fowl -wheeled and settled on a strip of white, sandy beach -just outside the Narrows. The surf broke with a -hollow roar, in a long line of foam, along the -neighboring coast; while out on the sea-board hung -a dim haze, undulating slowly beneath the sun’s -rays as he rose, blood-red, in the eastern horizon.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“A fine breeze for our first day’s cruize,” said -Westbrook, “and, faith, a deuce of a one it will be, -if we should happen to be caught by one of King -George’s frigates, and either be strung up for rebels -at the yard arm, or stifled to death in one of his -cursed prison hulks. What think you of the prospect, -comrades, isn’t it pleasant?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Pleasant do ye call it?” said Patrick O’Shaughnessy, -a reefer of about my own age, who was -a dangerously late emigrant to the colony, “shure, -and it is rayther at my father’s hearth I would be, -in dear, ould Ireland, afther all, if we’re to be -thrated as rebels the day.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Your father’s hearth, Pat,” said Westbrook, -“and do you really mean to say that they have -such things in Galway, or wherever else it was that -you were suffered to eat potatoes in ignorance, -until your guardians brought you out here on a -speculation.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“By St. Patrick, your head must be hard,” -said the irritated reefer, “and it’s well that my -shillelah isn’t on the wrist—”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Pshaw! now you’re not angry, comrade mine,” -said Westbrook, laughing good-humoredly, but repenting -already of his reckless speech, “come, -we’ve got a long cruize before us, and we shall -have enough of quarrels with those rascally British, -without getting up any among ourselves,” and he -frankly extended his hand.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Shure, and it’s a gentleman ye are, Misther -Westbrook, and I’d like to see the spalpeen that -says ye aint,” said O’Shaughnessy, grasping the -proffered hand, and shaking it heartily.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Yonder are the white caps of the Atlantic, -rolling ahead,” said I, as we stretched past Sandy -Hook, and beheld the broad ocean opening in all -its vastness and sublimity before us.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>We were now fairly afloat. At that time the -enterprise in which we had embarked was one of -the greatest danger, for not only were we liable to -the usual dangers of nautical warfare, but we were, -as yet, uncertain in what manner we should be -treated in case of a capture. But we were all confident -in the justness of our country’s cause, and -being such, we were prepared for either fortune.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Nearly a week elapsed without anything occurring -to dissipate the monotony of our voyage, -excepting a momentary alarm at the appearance of -a frigate, which we at first took to be an English -one, but which subsequently turned out to be a -Frenchman. Meanwhile, we were not without -many a merry bout in the gun-room, and over our -salt junk and Jamaica, we enjoyed ourselves as -hilariously as many an epicure would over his Burgundy -and turtle-soup. The jest went round; the -song was gaily trolled; many a merry story was -rehearsed, and anticipations of a successful cruize -were mingled with determinations to bear the worst, -if fortune should so will it. Under the broad flag -of New York, we were resolved “to do or die,” -against the prouder ensign of an unjust, and tyrannical -king.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>We had run down well nigh to the Windward -islands, and were beating up against a head wind, -when we spoke a French merchantman, who informed -us that he had passed a rich Indiaman, but -the day before, bound from London to Jamaica. -After enquiring the course of the Englishman, our -skipper hauled his wind, and bidding the friendly -Gaul, “<span class='it'>un bon voyage</span>,” we steered away in pursuit -of our prize. Night settled down upon us before -we caught sight of her; but still crowding on all sail -we kept on in our way.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It was about eight bells in the middle watch, and -I was on the point of preparing to go below, after -the relief should have been called, when I thought -I heard a rattling of cordage down in the thick -bank of fog to leeward. I listened attentively, and -again heard the sound distinctly, but this time it was -like the rollicking of oars.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Hist! Benson,” said I to the boatswain, who -was standing near me at the moment, “hist! lay -your ear close to the water here, and listen if you -do not hear the sound of oars.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The old fellow got into the main chains, and -holding on with one hand to them, cautiously leaned -over and listened for several minutes.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I hear nothing, sir,” said he in a whisper, “it’s -as still as death down in yonder fog-bank. But -I’ll keep a sharp look-out, for it may be there’s a -sail close on to us, without our knowing it, in this -mist.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The night had been intensely dark, but was now -breaking away overhead, where a few stars could -be seen twinkling on the patches of half-hid azure -sky. All round the horizon, however, but especially -to leeward, hung a dark, massy curtain of mist, -shrouding everything on the sea-board in impenetrable -obscurity, and, like piled up fleeces, laying thick -and palpable upon the immediate surface of the -ocean, but gradually becoming thinner and lighter -as it ascended upwards, until it finally terminated in -a thin, gauze-like haze, almost obscuring the stars -on the mid heaven above. So dense was the mist -in our immediate vicinity, that the man at the helm -could not discern the end of the bowsprit; while -the upper yards of the brigantine looked like shadowy -lines in the gloom. Occasionally, the light -breeze would undulate the fog, lifting it for a moment -from the water, and disclosing to our sight a -few fathoms of the unruffled sea around us; but -before a minute had passed the vapors would again -settle in fantastic wreaths upon the face of the deep, -wrapping us once more in the profoundest obscurity. -Not a sound was heard except the occasional rubbing -of the boom, the sullen flap of a sail, or the -low ripple of the swell under our cut-water, as we -stole noiselessly along in the impenetrable gloom. -The tread of one of the watch, or the sudden -thrashing of a reef-point against the sail, broke on -the ear with startling distinctness. Suddenly I -heard a noise as of a stifled cry coming up out of -the thick fog to leeward, from a spot apparently a -few points more on our quarter than the last sound. -The boatswain heard it also, and turning quickly -to me, he said—</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“There’s something wrong there, Mr. Parker, -or my name isn’t Jack Benson. And look—don’t -you see a ship’s royal through the fog there—just -over that gun—that shadowy object, like a whiff -of tobacco-smoke, down here to the right, is what -I mean.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“By heavens! you are right—and—see!—yonder -comes her fore-top-mast, rising above the undulating -mist.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Ship ahoy!” hailed the second lieutenant, at -that moment appearing on deck, and listening to -my report, “what craft is that?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The hoarse summons sailed down to leeward, -like the wailing of some melancholy spirit, but no -answer was returned. A couple of minutes -elapsed.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Ship ah—o—o—y!” sung out the officer -again, “answer, or I’ll fire into you—this is the -Fire-Fly, an armed vessel of the free state of New -York.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“We are a merchantman, belonging to Philadelphia,” -answered a gruff voice in reply.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Send your boat on board.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“We can’t,” answered the same voice, “for -one of them was washed overboard, three days ago, -in a gale, and the other one was swamped.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>At this instant, one of those sudden puffs of -wind, to which I have already alluded, momentarily -swept away the fog from around the approaching -ship, and we beheld, to our astonishment, that her -sails had been backed, and that she was slowly -falling astern of us, as if with the intention of -slipping across our wake, and going off to windward.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Fill away again, there,” thundered the lieutenant, -perceiving their manœuvre, “or I’ll fire on -you—fill away, I say.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“By the holy aposthles,” said O’Shaughnessy at -this moment, “isn’t there a schooner’s mast, on -the lee-quarter of the fellow—yes—there it is—see?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Every eye was instantly turned in the direction -to which he had pointed. A single glance established -the keenness of his vision. Right under the -weather quarter of the merchantman, might be seen -the mast of apparently a small schooner. The -sails were down, and only the bare stick could be -discerned; but the whole truth flashed upon us as -if with the rapidity of lightning.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“The ship is in the hands of pirates,” I exclaimed -involuntarily, “God help the poor wretches who -compose her crew.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Boarders ahoy!” sung out the voice of the -captain, breaking, like a trumpet-call, upon the momentary -silence of the horror-struck crew, “muster -on the forecastle, all—up with the helm, quarter-master—ready -to grapple there—heave,” and the -huge irons, as we bore down upon the ship, went -crashing among her hamper.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The instant that discovered the true nature of -our position, worked a change in the whole appearance -of the merchantman. Her deserted decks -swarmed with men; her silence gave place to -shouts, oaths, and the clashing of arms; and after a -momentary confusion, we saw, in the obscurity, a -dark group of ruffians clustered on the forecastle, -awaiting our attack.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Boarders ahoy!” again shouted Captain Stuart, -brandishing his sword on high, “follow me,” and -springing into the fore-rigging of the merchantman, -he levelled a pistol at the first pirate attempting -to oppose him, and followed by a score, and more, -of hardy tars, rushed, the next instant, down upon -her decks.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Stand to your posts, my men,” thundered the -pirate captain, as he stood by the main-mast, surrounded -by his swarthy followers, “stand to your -posts, and remember, you fight for your lives—come -on,” and drawing a pistol from his belt, he levelled -it at the first lieutenant, who, pressing on, aside of -Captain Stuart, received the ball in his side, and fell, -apparently, lifeless on the deck.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Revenge! Revenge!” thundered the Captain, -turning to cheer on his men, “sweep the miscreants -from the deck, on—on,” and waving his sword -aloft, he dashed into the fray. The men answered -by a cheer, and bore down upon the pirates with an -impetuosity, doubly more vehement from their desire -to avenge the fallen lieutenant.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>For full five minutes the contest was terrific. -Desperation lent additional vigor to the freebooters’ -muscles, while our own men were inflamed to madness -by the fall of Lennox. I had never been in a -conflict of any kind whatever before, and for the -first few moments—I will not hesitate to own it—a -strange whirling sensation, akin to fear, swept -through my brain. But a half a minute had not -passed before it had vanished; and I felt a wild -tumultuous excitement which seemed to endow me -with the strength of a Hercules. I lost all sight of -the turmoil around me. I could only see that it -had become a general <span class='it'>mêleé</span>, in which personal -prowess was of more importance than discipline. I -heard a wild mingling of oaths, shouts, cries for -mercy, the clashing of arms, the explosion of pistols, -the shrieks of the wounded, and the fierce tramping -of men struggling together in the last stage of -mortal combat. But I had no time for more detailed -observations. A giant ruffian singling me -out from the crowd, rushed upon me with uplifted -cutlass, and the next instant I would have been -clove in twain, had I not caught the blow upon my -blade. But so tremendous was its force that it -splintered my trusty steel to fragments, and sent a -shock through every nerve of my system. I staggered. -But not a moment was to be lost. Already -the gigantic arm of the pirate was raised on high. -Happily my pistols were both as yet untouched. -Springing back a step or two I jerked one from my -belt, levelled it at his brain, and fired. He whirled -around as if intoxicated, staggered, would have -caught at the mast for support, and fell over dead -upon the deck.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>But I had no leisure to regard my fallen foe. -The contest still raged around me fiercer than ever. -On our side of the ship, however, the pirates had -broken, and were retreating slowly and doggedly -toward the stern. We pressed on hotly in pursuit, -while shouts, curses, and huzzas, the groans of the -dying, and the fierce rattling of cutlasses, formed a -tumult around us of stirring excitement; but just as -I rushed past the gangway, followed by a few of -the bravest of our crew, a wild, long, thrilling -scream from the cabin below, rose up over all the -uproar of the conflict. It could come from no one -but a woman—that prolonged cry of mortal agony! -In an instant the retreating pirates were forgotten; -I thought only of the danger of the sufferer below. -Dashing aside, with the power of a giant, a brawny -ruffian who would have impeded my progress, I -sprang, at one leap, half way down the gangway, -and with another stride found myself in the cabin -of the ship.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Never shall I forget the scene that there met my -eyes.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The apartment in which I stood was elegantly, -even luxuriously furnished, presenting the appearance -rather of a sumptuous drawing-room, than of -a merchantman’s cabin. The state-rooms were of -mahogany, elegantly inlaid with ebony. A service -of silver and rich cut glass was ranged in the beaufut -around the mast. Silken ottomans stretched -along the sides of the room; a silver lamp of exquisite -workmanship, depended from the ceiling; -and a carpet of gorgeous pattern, and of the finest -quality, covered the floor. But not a solitary individual -was to be seen. A lady’s guitar, however, -lay carelessly on one of the ottomans, and a few -books were scattered around it in easy negligence. -Could I be deceived with this corroborative testimony? -Yet where was the owner of these little -trifles? These reflections did not, however, occupy -an instant; for I had scarcely finished a rapid survey -of the cabin before another, and another shriek, -ringing out just before me, roused every emotion of -my heart to an uncontrollable fury. Catching sight -of an undulating curtain at the farther end of the -apartment, which I had imagined was only the -drapery of the windows, I darted forward, and -lifting up the damask, started back in horror at the -sight that met my eyes.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>This after cabin was smaller, and even more -luxuriously fitted up than the other. But I did not -remark this, at the time, for such a scene as I then -witnessed, God grant I may never be called to look -upon again.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>As I pushed aside the curtain, three swarthy, -olive-complexioned ruffians, dressed with more elaboration -than any of their comrades I had yet -seen, turned hastily around as if interrupted in -some infamous deed, scowling upon me with the -looks of demons. It needed but a glance to detect -their fiendish work. A well dressed elderly man was -extended at their feet, weltering in his blood. On -an ottoman before them half lying, half sitting, was -one of the fairest beings I had ever seen, her night -dress disordered, her frame trembling, and her -hair, wild and dishevelled, hanging in loose tresses -from her shoulders. Her hands were covered in -one or two places with blood; her eyes were wild; -her face was flushed; and she panted as one does -whose strength has been nearly overtasked in a -desperate struggle. Never shall I forget the unutterable -agony depicted on that countenance when I -first entered; never shall I forget the lightning-like -change which came over it as her eye fell upon me. -Rushing frantically forward, while joy beamed in -every feature of her face, she flung herself into my -arms, shrieking hysterically,</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Oh! save me—save me—for the love of your -mother, save me.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>My sudden appearance had startled the three -ruffians, and for a moment they stood idle, suffering -her to dart between them; but at the sound of her -voice, they rushed as one man upon me. The odds -were fearful, but I felt, at that instant, as if I could -have dared heaven and earth in behalf of that suffering -maiden. Clasping my arm around her waist, -and retreating hastily into the other cabin, I shouted -aloud for aid, parrying, with a cutlass I picked up -at random, the attack of the miscreants. But the -attempt was desperation itself. Already I had received -two cuts across my arm, and I could scarcely -hold my weapon in it, when the foremost ruffian, -leaving my death, as he thought, to his comrades, -laid his unholy hand once more upon the maiden. -Good God! I thought my heart would have burst -at this new insult. My determination was quicker -than the electric spark of heaven. Hastily releasing -the lovely burden from my hold, I seized my -remaining pistol with the disengaged hand, and -before the villain could perceive my purpose planted -it against his face and fired. The brains spattered -the ceiling, and even fell upon my own face and -arm. But the miscreant was dead. Oh, the joy, -the rapture of that moment! I heard, too, as the -report subsided, the death-groan of another of the -ruffians falling beneath the avenging cutlass of our -men, who now, victorious on deck, came pouring -down the hatchway. In another instant, as a -shout of victory rang through the cabin, I had -raised the almost senseless girl from the floor. -She looked eagerly into my face, gazed wildly -around, uttered a cry of joy, and convulsively -clinging to me, as if for shelter, buried her head -upon my bosom, and burst into a passion of hysteric -tears.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The emotions of that moment were such as I -had never deemed mortal being capable of experiencing. -Feelings I cannot even now describe -whirled through me, until my brain seemed almost -to spin around in a delirium of joy. Yet there -was a holiness in my emotions, far, far different -from the common sensations of pleasure. I felt—I -knew not how—a sudden interest in the fair being, -sobbing convulsively upon my shoulder, which made -her already seem dearer to me than life itself. I -pressed her involuntarily to me; but a mother -could not have done so with more purity to a -new-born infant. Her sobs melted me so that I -could scarcely keep my own eyes dry.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“God bless you, my poor, sweet girl,” I said in -a husky voice, “you are among friends now.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The tone, the words went to her very heart; -she clasped me convulsively again, and burst into -a fresh flood of tears. Poor dove! she had just -escaped from the hands of the spoiler, and fluttered, -as yet, involuntarily on her rescuer’s bosom.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“God—in—hea—ven—bless you,” she murmured, -betwixt her sobs, after a while, raising her -tearful countenance from my shoulder, and looking -upon me with eyes, whose depth, and whose gratitude -I had never seen equalled—“God—bless—you, -sir, for this act. Oh! if a life of prayers for -your welfare can repay you,” she continued, with -uplifted hands, and a countenance, which, in despite -of its earnestness, was crimsoned with blushes, “it -shall be freely given by me. But my uncle! my -poor uncle! alas! they have murdered him,” and -she covered her eyes with her hands, as if to shut -out the fearful sight.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Say nothing, my dear girl,” said I, the tears -standing in my own eyes, “all are friends around -you now. The ship has been rescued—the pirates -are no more. Compose yourself—none here will -harm you—your slightest wish shall be attended to, -and you shall be served with the purity with which -we serve a saint. Do not thus give way to grief—let -me insist on your retiring—here is your maid,” -said I, as the trembling creature emerged from a -state-room, in which she had locked herself when -her mistress was in danger, “a little rest will compose -you.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Oh! my uncle, my more than parent—heaven -bless you,” sobbed the beautiful, but still agitated -girl, as she suffered herself to be led away by her -little less agitated maid.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The prize turned out to be the British West-Indiaman, -which had been surprised by pirates -about a quarter of an hour before we hailed her. -The beautiful being and her uncle were the only -passengers. It is needless to say that very few of -the ruffians survived the conflict, and that those -who did were tried summarily by a court-martial -the next day, and hung at the ship’s yard-arm. -Their little schooner, or rather oyster-boat, was -scuttled and sunk.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The wounds in my arm proved serious, though -not dangerous, but they did not disable me from -continuing on duty. I would willingly have lost -the limb in such a holy cause.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The first appearance on deck of Beatrice Derwent—for -such was the name of her I rescued—was -at the burial of her uncle on the evening -succeeding the re-capture of the ship. She appeared, -leaning on the arm of her maid, and as her eye, -just lifted for one moment from the deck, happened -to catch mine, her face became suffused with crimson, -and such a look of gratitude toward the living, -combined with grief for the dead, flashed over her -countenance as I never saw equalled. But in another -moment her eyes dropped once more on the -corpse, and I saw, by the convulsive heaving of -her bosom, how fearful was her grief. When the -corpse was launched into the deep, her sorrow -broke all the restraint of custom, and she sobbed -aloud. Directly, however, they subsided partially; -and as she turned to re-enter the cabin, the last -rays of the setting sun, gilding the mast-head with -a crown of glory, and glittering along the surface -of the deep, lingered a moment on her sunny hair, -like the smile of the departed spirit.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The prize meantime, proving to be richly laden, -was allotted to me to conduct into port, as the first -lieutenant’s wound prevented him from assuming -the command, and the second lieutenant chose -rather to remain with the brigantine. Beatrice -Derwent was, as a matter of course, to continue on -board the merchantman. Thus did destiny again -link my fate with this lovely creature, and by one -of those simple accidents which so often occur, -open for me a train of events, whose transaction it -is my purpose to detail in the following crude autobiography.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The sensations with which I watched the receding -brigantine, after assuming my new command, -and hauling up on our course, may well be imagined. -Scarcely a fortnight had elapsed since I first launched -on the deep, a nameless, unknown, irresponsible -midshipman; and now, by one of fortune’s wildest -freaks, I was commanding a prize of untold value, -and become the protector of the loveliest of her -sex.</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“There’s a divinity that shapes our fortunes,</p> -<p class='line0'> Rough hew them as we will.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>It was not till the third day after parting company -with the brigantine, that Miss Derwent, with -her maid, appeared once more upon the deck. The -shock of her uncle’s death had brought on an illness, -which confined her during that time to the -cabin; and even now, there was a languor in her -fine countenance, and a melancholy in her dark -eye, which, though they added to the interest of her -appearance, betokened the acuteness of her grief. -She was attired in a dark silken dress; her hair -was plainly braided back, and she wore no ornaments -of any kind whatever. Rarely had I beheld -a vision of such surpassing loveliness. I stepped -forward to assist her to a seat. She smiled faintly, -her eyes sparkled a moment, and then a deep -blush shot across her saddened features. But I -will not detail the scene that ensued. Suffice it -to say that, from that moment I loved Beatrice; -and that though she had not bid me hope, there -was nothing in her conduct to bid me despair.</p> - -<hr class='tbk117'/> - -<div><h1><a id='sbell'></a>SABBATH BELLS.—IMPROMPTU.</h1></div> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p> -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY WILLIS G. CLARK.</p> -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>Sweet Sabbath! to my ear,</p> -<p class='line0'>  Thy bells, with mingling tone,</p> -<p class='line0'>Tell of the distant and the dear</p> -<p class='line0'>  In yon far blue unknown.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>Of happier days they tell,</p> -<p class='line0'>  When o’er the vernal ground,</p> -<p class='line0'>Fairer than Ocean’s richest shell,</p> -<p class='line0'>  Young Nature breathed around:</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>When Hope, as at a shrine,</p> -<p class='line0'>  To Fancy poured her lay,</p> -<p class='line0'>And hues, inspiring and divine,</p> -<p class='line0'>  Painted the live-long day.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>Sweet bells! They have a voice,</p> -<p class='line0'>  Lost to the usual air,</p> -<p class='line0'>Which bids the sorrowing heart rejoice,</p> -<p class='line0'>  Though life no more be fair.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>Though dust to dust has gone,</p> -<p class='line0'>  They speak of brighter hours,</p> -<p class='line0'>When Memory, as from a throne,</p> -<p class='line0'>  Surveyed her paths of flowers.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>Of sunny spots, where Love</p> -<p class='line0'>  Unfurled his purple wings,</p> -<p class='line0'>And filled the spirit and the grove</p> -<p class='line0'>  With glorious offerings!</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<hr class='tbk118'/> - -<div><h1><a id='asea'></a>A SEA SCENE.</h1></div> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p> -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY ROBERT MORRIS.</p> -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p> - -<div class='dramastart'><!----></div> - -<p class='dramaline-cont'>  The world is hushed and still, save where the sea</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Against the rock-bound shore, in monster glee</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Rushes and roars, and far along the coast,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>In solemn thunders o’er the loved and lost</p> -<p class='dramaline'>A constant requiem pours. Above—beyond—</p> -<p class='dramaline'>No glimmering light is seen! No cheerful sound</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Steals from the distance. Not a lonely star</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Gleams from the dim, mysterious depths afar,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>To win the eye, and, like a spirit chart,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>To chase the sadness from the sea-boy’s heart.</p> -<p class='dramaline'>His craft is small and frail—the waves are high—</p> -<p class='dramaline'>And fresh and chill the wild breeze whistles by!</p> -<p class='dramaline'>On, madly, blindly, rushes his slight sail,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>An arrow winged before the maddened gale.</p> -<p class='dramaline'>His heart is stout and firm; his messmates true,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Will, at his call, their hopeless toil renew!</p> -<p class='dramaline'>But hark! that peal! Old ocean reels and rings,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>While wilder still, the poor craft bends and springs;</p> -<p class='dramaline'>And see yon flash—like lava from the sky</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Poured rashly out by some dread hand on High,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>And dealing death to those unfit to die!</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Again—again! And mingling with the sea</p> -<p class='dramaline'>The frail thing sinks and mounts. Eternity</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Now yawns at every plunge, and each strong wave</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Seems hurrying on to some cold ocean grave!</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Now lost to view—now soaring with the swell—</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Ah! who the thoughts of that pale crew may tell!</p> -<p class='dramaline'>How radiant, Home, must seem thy beauties now!</p> -<p class='dramaline'>How far thy low roof from that vessel’s prow!</p> -<p class='dramaline'>How angel-like fond features, sunny eyes,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Rise o’er the waves in memory’s paradise!</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Sweet gentle words are heard amid the storm,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>And hands are clasped, whose blood flows fast and warm.</p> -<p class='dramaline'>The future breaks upon the mental sight,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>And Hope’s eternal watch-fire gives it light!</p> -<p class='dramaline'>The soul again is nerved—the storm rolls on—</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Morn breaks, and with it comes the welcome sun,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>And though, as yet, no land salutes the eye,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Some tropic bird comes wheeling gaily by;</p> -<p class='dramaline'>The air seems sweeter, and the ocean’s foam</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Looks fresher, brighter, and reminds of home!</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Oh! who may paint the rapture of that hour—</p> -<p class='dramaline'>The peril past, the breeze, with fresh’ning power,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Filling the out-spread canvass! Who may tell</p> -<p class='dramaline'>The wild emotions that each bosom swell,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>As the glad morrow dawns upon the soul;</p> -<p class='dramaline'>And feeling’s fountain bursts beyond control—</p> -<p class='dramaline'>As welcome voices greet, or lip to lip,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>In speechless joy, the heart’s companionship—</p> -<p class='dramaline'>Is mutely told—or, as in some fair face</p> -<p class='dramaline'>A gentler, deeper, thought of love we trace,</p> -<p class='dramaline'>And mark with joy the chosen one’s embrace!</p> - -<hr class='tbk119'/> - -<div><h1><a id='syr'></a>THE SYRIAN LETTERS.</h1></div> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1em;font-weight:bold;'>WRITTEN FROM DAMASCUS, BY SERVILIUS PRISCUS OF CONSTANTINOPLE, TO HIS KINSMAN, CORNELIUS DRUSUS, RESIDING AT ATHENS, AND BUT NOW TRANSLATED.</p> - -<h2 class='nobreak'>LETTER I.</h2> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:right;margin-right:2em;margin-bottom:0.5em;'>Damascus.</p> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:left;margin-left:2em;margin-bottom:0.5em;'><span class='sc'>Servilius to Cornelius—Greeting</span>:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>How cheering it is, my dear Cornelius, after a -long and perilous voyage, and the fearful pitchings -of a frail vessel, to feel your accustomed security -of footstep, and trace in the wide plains and lofty -mountains the varying forms of nature’s loveliness, -doubly enchanting after a temporary separation. -Such were my emotions after landing on the shore -of Berytus, heightened by the delightful and unexpected -surprise of meeting an old friend in a strange -land.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Sulpicius behaved toward us in the most elegant -and hospitable manner, and so swiftly did the interval -between arrival and departure fly, that the -scene of parting salutation was in sad contrast with -the joy of our first greeting. But as I have revived -these recollections, let me give a hasty sketch of -what passed on the second evening of our landing. -Having gathered around the tables to the evening -repast, cheerfulness reigned triumphant. Tossed for -days upon the whirling waters, we were now in -conscious security gaily, assembled in the harmonious -circle, with not a care to distract, and every -reasonable pleasure to elevate. The music ceasing, -Lactantius observed he was sure he had heard that -strain before, he thought, when off the coast of -Cyprus.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” I replied, with a smile, “Lactantius you -are right, I also heard it.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Ah!” said he, “I believed every eye had been -closed in sleep. It was my custom at the dead -hour of night, that time so fruitful of meditation -and of better thoughts—when silence reigns and -unarmed repose throws her soft mantle over every -living thing; and the air robbed of its noon day -heat grows cool and balmy, to order before me the -events of the day, and mark wherein I had done -amiss. Pardon me, Lactantius, this was not all, -have I not heard you, on more than one occasion, -breathe passages not of poetry only, but of bright -description and solid thought? Come, I call upon -you, in the name of those around, should you approve, -to narrate the story of our voyage.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Yes! a good thought,” they cried. “And -interweave,” says Marcus, “as much poetry in the -narration as you are wont.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Stay,” cries Sulpicius, “if you mean by poetry, -play of fancy, at the expense of geography, I should -heartily prefer the unpainted narrative, for how is it -that travellers love the wonderful so much, and -delight to make the storms more dangerous, the -mountains higher, and the valleys greener than -nature ever made them?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Such Sulpicius, is not my meaning,” rejoined -Marcus, “but only that one so competent to color -nature as she should be colored, should perform the -task, and who, if he but wave the gay wand of -fancy, may bring before you every hill in its greenness, -and temple in its sculptured whiteness, so that -you might almost believe you saw them on the -painter’s easel, or starting up in beautiful reality at -your feet.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Stop Marcus, the subject of this undeserved -eulogy is present, and if you say another word I -shall hesitate whether to begin, since our friends -may form expectations which cannot be realised.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>With this he described the whole course of our -voyage, from our embarkation at Constantinople -to our landing at Berytus, its perils and its pleasures: -the countries we saw, the cities we visited, -in that full and flowing style for which he is so -celebrated. At one moment he would bring so -faithfully to our eye, the terrors of that night on -which we were so near engulphed, that the shudder -of fancied danger shot through our veins, and the -billows almost seemed to toss us, so vividly can a -master’s hand summon up an image of those horrors -one has but lately passed through. Indeed at -one part of the recital, Fortunatus who was present, -uttered a smothered cry to the sailors, as if he was -again acting the part of a commander upon his ship. -At this strange ejaculation, notwithstanding the exciting -story, we could not repress our laughter; -Lactantius himself joining in the general merriment. -When he began to describe the different cities we -had entered, he used considerable action, and so -clearly did he bring the representation to our view -that in pointing, as if to the real object, we instinctively -followed with our eyes the motion of his -fingers, as it were, in expectation that the rising -walls of some palace, or the rich scenery of some -wooded valley, would meet our gaze. Such is that -silent homage which we unknowingly pay to eloquent -genius.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>When he had finished, some expression of pleasure -or admiration burst from every tongue, and -Sulpicius ordered us to fill our glasses to Lactantius, -accompanying this token of friendship with other -marks of high wrought satisfaction, such as he displays -only on those occasions, when his feelings are -strongly enlisted in the object of them.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Lactantius,” he remarked, “having always at -my elbow a ready scribe, who, committing to -parchment with the most wonderful facility all that -falls from the lips of those distinguished men from -Rome, Constantinople, or other great cities, who in -their travels may chance to honor me with a visit, -I have been enabled to accumulate a rich collection, -over which, whether as memorials of genius or of -friendship, I linger, whenever I peruse them, with -fresh delight. This day’s conversation, as it fell -from your lips, is already deposited on the precious -pile.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Here I perceived an uneasy play upon the features -of my friend; as I quickly traced the cause, -for it was none other than his retiring diffidence, I -felt anxious to change the topic of our conversation. -The announcement of a stranger’s name, repeated, -however, in so low a tone that I did not hear it, -diverted the attention of the company. Entering, -he walked toward the couch of Sulpicius, and we -were all struck, at the first glance, with his commanding -air and dignified deportment. An ample -forehead, dark and piercing eye, and venerable -beard, that sported with by a passing wind, carelessly -floated about the graceful folds of his tunic, -elicited instantaneous respect.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I come,” he said, addressing himself to Sulpicius, -“to seek the great Lactantius, and understanding -he was present, took the liberty of entering -without ceremony.” Sulpicius with this, rose, kindly -welcomed and invited him to join us at the tables, -but politely refusing, he continued,—“I come to -consult him upon a subject which I hold to be entitled -to the friendly countenance of every lover of -generosity and toleration, be he of whatever faith.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>With this Lactantius arose and joined him, and -as he clasped his hand, there seemed so much -Christian sincerity in his manner, that a tear sparkled -in the eye of the stranger, but it passed away, -and his settled demeanor was resumed. When they -had left, a hundred conjectures sprang up, as to what -might be the object of this interview. But Sulpicius -informed us he was an eminent citizen of Berytus, -that he had held a responsible office under one of -the last Emperors, embracing, however, the creed of -that new sect called Christians, he fell into disgrace, -and stood in jeopardy of his life, but was saved -through the earnest intercession of an influential -friend residing at Baalbec, and a solemn promise to -retire into distant and perpetual banishment. Upon -the death of the Emperor he returned from exile, and -would have been re-instated in all his former dignities, -but tiring of the turmoil of public life he preferred -the quiet of retirement, and the peaceful enjoyment -of domestic bliss. But you have not given us, -observed Valerius, your conjecture of the object of -his visit, nor the name of that worthy citizen whose -intervention was so happy in its results. The object -of the interview is doubtless to arouse the feelings, or -invoke the powerful aid of Lactantius in the establishment -of a Christian Colony, or perhaps in the building -of some Christian temple, since Constantine has -proved so munificent in the erection of the most -gorgeous edifices to the Christian’s God. The name -of the citizen whose good offices were so fortunate, -was Æmelianus of Heliopolis. When this name was -mentioned, I noticed that the countenance of Lucretia -became pale, and her lip was compressed, as if in -the suppression of some hidden emotion, but its cause -I was not able to divine.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The sun upon the following day shining through -the windows’ tapestry, awoke me by his reddening -beams, and warned me to rise and behold the grandeur -at my feet. Throwing the lattice open, I beheld -a panorama unequalled in sublimity and beauty -by any thing I had ever seen. Berytus stretched -away below me, sparkling with shining domes, glistening -house tops, and here and there arose some -marble monumental pillar, or an obelisk, commemorative -of some signal event, which, peeping from -their encircling grove, appeared to rest upon its summit -like flakes of freshly fallen snow. Beyond the -city lay the ocean, with many a sail, but dimly visible -upon its heaving bosom; behind me rose, towering -and precipitous, eternal Lebanon, bathed in a flood -of various lights, like a vestment <a id='dye'></a>dyed with many -colors, and the pines which crown its heights, spreading -their fringy leaves against the clouds, borrowed -all their hues.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>With nature clothed in gladness, and the scented -freshness of the morning air, filled with the warbling -of birds, you may entertain surprise when I tell you, -that my feelings were those of sadness, for I reflected -that this great city must, in its turn, as other cities -have, either sink into insignificance, or become much -diminished in splendor, and its thousands of busy -people, with the unerring certainty of the rising sun, -be gathered generation after generation, to their fathers, -while the hoary mountain at whose base it lay, -would through all time raise its head in haughty -glory. How vain to boast of immortality, how vain -to live solely for ambition’s sake, when the fame of -the hero rests upon the mercy of a parchment, or -the treacherous reliance of tradition. A convulsion -of the earth may overthrow a temple, the pride of -centuries, the boast of a nation—a spark consume -a city, and time’s wasting finger in the interval of -but a few years, destroy the golden record of genius, -however perpetuated, so that the celebrity of the orator, -and the works of the poet, shall have but a -flickering existence, and finally shall perish from the -recollection of their countrymen.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The morning of our departure being now at hand, -we began our journey from Berytus, through Baalbec -to Damascus, and as it lay through a rocky region, -we knew it would be rough and wearisome, -but when we remembered the grandeur of nature, -the mountains, valleys, forests, temples, palaces, we -should behold, we trusted we would be able to drive -away fatigue.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Among those who performed the journey with us, -were Lactantius, Marcus, and Valerius; also Cornelia, -and Placidia, the daughter of Lucius Sergius, and -their kinswoman Lucretia.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Lucius having purchased a chariot, the ladies accompanied -him by another route, the rest of us having -bought chargers at the market place of Berytus, -well accustomed to the rocky pathway, determined -to travel by the <span class='it'>via Antoniana</span>, cut at some spots into -the solid rock, through the liberality of Antoninus, -who has left in this country endless works of art, -which I hope may remain imperishable monuments -to his genius, generosity, and enterprise. The journey -from Berytus to Baalbec by this route is of more -than a day—arduous and perilous—but as I said, the -traveller finds an ample return for all his toil, in the -awful sublimity of countless rocky peaks, which cap -these hoary mountains with an imperishable crown. -Rising into the clouds, they seem to bear the fleecy -vapors upon their broad summits, while their terrible -height obscures the morning sun, and for the while -hides their base in impenetrable darkness, and even -throws a gloom upon the troubled bosom of the ocean, -which occasionally lashes their everlasting foundations -in its fury. Ocean always in motion, mountains -ever at rest, both as thou wert a thousand -years ago—unchangeable! what a fruitful comment -upon the perishable creations of man’s feeble arm.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Crossing the river Lycus, which having its birth -among the purest fountains, and finding its channel -in the hollow of a deep cleft of the mountains, shoots -beneath your feet with impetuous dashings, we after -a space arrived at the banks of the purple Adonis. -You may remember it was near this river, that he, -from whom it derives its name, came to his end. -Many temples have been dedicated in these wild regions -to the memory of Adonis, and to her who the -poets tell us mourned so bitterly for his loss. Having -passed over Lebanon, we fell upon luxuriant -gardens; endless groves of olive trees; purpled -vineyards; hill sides clad with trees laden with ripe -fruit, that shining from their dark surrounding foliage, -were bright with every tint of heaven, from the -richest golden to the deeply blushing red. Such -was this enchanting prospect, heightening in its -beauty at each succeeding step, and when at last we -came in full view of the great Baalbec, or as some -call Heliopolis of Phenicia or of Assyria, built upon -the level of a broad and verdant plain, and starting -from among deep embosoming thickets, our admiration -was irrepressible. High and conspicuous above -the city walls rose that greatest temple of the world, -the Temple of the Sun, now lit with his departing -beams; and we could plainly trace its portico, its -courts, and surrounding temples. In one spot a -monument or an obelisk upreared itself, or the gilded -dome of some Palace, shining like a Pharos -above the dark enshrouding groves.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Having approached the northern gate of the city, -we were obliged to pass through established ceremonies -ere we secured an entrance. This enabled -me to examine the beautiful architecture of this noble -portal. Four Corinthian pillars upon an elevated -basement, supported a heavy architrave, with niches -between their intercolumniations, filled with two -statues, one representing the founder of the city, -King Solomon in royal robes, the other Sheba. In -the centre hung a lofty brazen gate, covered with -massive mouldings cast in brass, one I recollect -much resembling that upon the great shield in the -temple of Mars at Constantinople. So weighty was -this structure, that it must have proved a labor of -years to construct it, as it surely would one almost -of months to batter it down. It looked impenetrable. -On beholding this gate, I could not but fancy -it opened into some new region, that when drawn -aside, I should be presented with a scene novel and -wonderful. Directly the immense mass began to -yield, and the harsh rattling of its bars and chains, -and the low rumbling of its enormous hinges, reminded -me of distant, deep mouthed thunder. Its -ponderous folds were now fully opened to admit us, -and the issue realised what fancy had portrayed, for -an exhibition of the gayest kind was passing before -us. Young and ardent charioteers in streaming and -many colored robes, and mounted upon chariots, -richly inlaid with sparkling gems and gold, were -driving their highly mettled coursers in various directions, -through the broad and noble avenues, some -of which seemed to terminate at this northern gate. -So rapid and complicated were the movements of -these young votaries, that it was matter of wonder -to me they did not come in dreadful conflict. Others -on prancing steeds were displaying their gallant -horsemanship. Here you saw a gathering group of -youthful citizens at some athletic sport, and there a -little knot of philosophers, who may be readily distinguished -by their long mantles, grave countenances, -and earnest conversation, as if in the hot discussion -of some exciting topic. You may have noticed -after an attendance at the theatre for hours, -with nothing to fix your wandering gaze, except -the curtain of the Proscenium, how gladly you have -hailed the lifting of it, revealing the actors in full -dress, and all the dazzling arrangements of the Drama. -Such were my sensations at this moment. -Asking for the house of a kinsman of Sergius, -some friendly citizen informed us he had just left him -at the baths, but that he had perhaps returned, and -he would conduct us to his mansion. Arriving -there, we found the owner at his hall of entrance, -when instantly recognising Sergius, he pressed us immediately -to dismount, else, as he alleged, we would -violate the customs of Heliopolis. Not choosing at -the very first, to violate so hospitable a custom, we -cheerfully entered the splendid mansion, and as gladly -were we received. Having assembled in the Hall, -after the freshening influences of the bath, we were -greeted by a number of distinguished citizens, who, -were invited to meet us, as eminent Romans upon our -journey through Syria. Under such <span class='it'>favorable auspices</span> -though wholly undeserved as they respect your -friend Servilius, it was not long ere we cemented a -friendship. “Highly welcome!” exclaimed Mobilius, -(for this was his title,) upon his first acquaintance, for -on such good terms did he seem to be with himself -and those around him. “Highly welcome to Baalbec, -but this you will not find a very Christian spot, -while these priests of Heliopolitan Jove are so numerous: -Is it true,” he continued in the same -breath, “and you must bring the latest news, that -Constantine intends to close our temples, and convert -them into others, for the observance of the rites -of this new sect called Christians?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“There was such a rumor my friend,” replied -Lactantius, “but of its truth I cannot speak, would -it were correct.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>At this, his eye flashed and I plainly saw, he was -a true convert to the worship of the sun.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“You would not speak thus,” he said, “had you -ever witnessed the splendid ceremonies of our religion,” -and whispering to him as if bestowing a peculiar -mark of confidence, “you shall if you wish from -a secret undiscoverable nook, see all,” and darting a -quick enquiring glance, he added in the same low -whisper, though distinct enough to be heard by me, -“you may be a convert.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I will behold the spectacle,” was Lactantius’ -brief reply. I doubted not but that this great warrior -in a self denying cause, had in this ready compliance, -some wise purpose, possibly, to persuade this youthful -votary of the danger of his faith, or to convert -him to his own: and such I believed was partly Mobilius’ -design, so I felt there would be no difficulty -in securing a share of this undiscoverable nook, for -I was eager to witness these strange ceremonies. -But I have exhausted my parchment, and I fear -your patience, so I shall reserve my account until -the next epistle, which I hope may find you as I -trust this does in continued prosperity and health. -Farewell.</p> - -<div class='blockquote'> - -<p class='pindent'><span style='font-size:smaller'>Philadelphia, December, 1840.</span></p> - -</div> - -<hr class='tbk120'/> - -<div><h1><a id='thine2'></a>THINE—ONLY THINE.</h1></div> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p> -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY MRS. CATHARINE H. W. ESLING.</p> -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>              Thine—only thine,</p> -<p class='line0'>The bland winds whisper it at every breath,</p> -<p class='line0'>              And thou art mine—</p> -<p class='line0'>Mine thro’ all changes—mine alone till death.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>              Years will pass by,</p> -<p class='line0'>And write their records upon either’s brow,</p> -<p class='line0'>              Will dim the eye,</p> -<p class='line0'>But alter not one heart pulse beating now.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>              Changes will come,</p> -<p class='line0'>And the light foot, less lightly tread the ground,</p> -<p class='line0'>              The gentle hum</p> -<p class='line0'>Of voices, will have lost their softest sound.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>              And clinging ties</p> -<p class='line0'>Will be dissever’d—from the household band</p> -<p class='line0'>              Some may arise</p> -<p class='line0'>To the bright mansions in the “Happy Land.”</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>              In all their youth,</p> -<p class='line0'>The sunny gladness of their early years,</p> -<p class='line0'>              To realms of truth</p> -<p class='line0'>Their spotless souls soar from “the vale of tears.”</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>              Strong links may break,</p> -<p class='line0'>Links that are twined around the inmost heart,</p> -<p class='line0'>              And dreamers, wake</p> -<p class='line0'>To see their sand-built fabrics slowly part.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>              But thou wilt be,</p> -<p class='line0'>Even as the oak, in all thy strength and pride,</p> -<p class='line0'>              An unscath’d tree,</p> -<p class='line0'>While I, the Ivy, cling thy form beside.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>              And when we leave</p> -<p class='line0'>The sunny paths of youth, where flowers grew bright</p> -<p class='line0'>              We will not grieve</p> -<p class='line0'>That our brief morning hid its beams in night.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>              Edging each cloud,</p> -<p class='line0'>Hope’s silver ray shall light us near and far,</p> -<p class='line0'>              No darken’d shroud</p> -<p class='line0'>Can hide from us love’s ever-burning star.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>              Like noon’s sweet close</p> -<p class='line0'>Before the shades of eve grow dim and dark,</p> -<p class='line0'>              When flowers repose,</p> -<p class='line0'>And angels’ eyes day’s slow departure mark.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>              Like that, shall seem</p> -<p class='line0'>Our parting from this world of earthly bloom,</p> -<p class='line0'>              And life’s calm stream,</p> -<p class='line0'>Shall gently lave us as we near the tomb.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>              Thine—only thine,</p> -<p class='line0'>The bland winds whisper it at every breath,</p> -<p class='line0'>              And thou art mine—</p> -<p class='line0'>Mine thro’ all changes—mine alone till death.</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<div class='blockquote'> - -<p class='pindent'><span style='font-size:smaller'>Philadelphia, December, 1840.</span></p> - -</div> - -<hr class='tbk121'/> - -<div><h1><a id='clar'></a>CLARA FLETCHER.</h1></div> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;font-weight:bold;'>OR, FIRST AND LAST LOVE.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“What a beautiful creature Clara Fletcher is!” -exclaimed Mr. Tressayle.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Beautiful!” replied the lady by whom he stood, -tossing her head disdainfully, “why la!” and she -raised her glass to her eye, “<span class='it'>I</span> think she’s positively -plain looking.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Beautiful indeed!” echoed her mamma, a fat, -vulgar looking woman, the flaunting colors of -whose dress, betrayed her character at once, “why -now, I do say, Mr. Tressayle, it’s astonishing—it -is—how a gentleman of such <span class='it'>tone</span> as you, should -think that pert Miss Fletcher any thing but common-like. -Why do look at her hair now, I’d be -bound she done it up herself—and then her dress, -why that stuff,” said she, with a contemptuous curl -of her lip, “couldn’t have cost a dollar a yard. -Do you think it could, Araminta, my dear?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Mr. Tressayle was decidedly the most fashionable -man at Saratoga. With a fine person, a handsome -countenance, the most courtly manners, and more -than all supposed to be possessed of a fortune as -extensive as his establishment was fashionable, he -was looked up to by all as <span class='it'>the</span> match of the season. -The Belvilles, therefore, with whom he was now -conversing, were not a little flattered by the attentions -which he paid them. True they were the -wealthiest family at the Springs; but then Mr. -Belville had made his princely fortune as a distiller. -Originally the keeper of a green-grocer’s shop, he -had risen afterward into an obscure tavern-keeper, -and from thence by slow gradations, he had become -a wine-merchant, a distiller, a usurer, and a millionaire. -Latterly, his lady, discarding the shop, and -affecting to despise tradesmen’s wives, had set up -for a woman of fashion, and nothing gave her, in -her eyes, more importance than the attentions obviously -paid by Mr. Tressayle to her only child, -Araminta Melvina Belville, a long, scraggy young -lady of about two-and-twenty, but who affected -the manners of “sweet sixteen.” The devotion of -Tressayle to such a being was indeed surprising to -all who did not know how involved was his fortune.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>What reply might have been made by Tressayle -to this remark we know not, for his answer was -cut short by the appearance of no less a personage -than Mr. Belville.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“How are you, Tressayle, fine girls here, eh!” -said this gentleman, slapping the young man somewhat -familiarly on the shoulder, “deuced handsome -gal that, just come in, and has fell heiress to a -cool three hundred thousand. By Jove she’s a -lucky thing to get the hunk of money old Snarler -made in the East India trade.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Clara Fletcher heiress to Mr. Snarler!—you -surprise me,” said Tressayle, “I thought he had -sworn to cut off her mother, who was his sister, -you know, and all her family with a shilling, merely -for marrying Mr. Fletcher, who, though poor, was -in every respect a gentleman.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Ay, so he did—so he did, but he died at last—d’ye -see?—without a will,—and so Clara Fletcher, -the only daughter of his only sister, cuts into his -fortune fat.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It’s singular I never heard of this before,” said -Tressayle, half musingly.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Mamma, la! if I don’t think Mr. Tressayle has -seen Miss Fletcher before,” whispered the daughter -behind her fan; and then raising her voice and -simpering and blushing as Tressayle looked down -on overhearing her, she continued, “dear me, you -haven’t been listening all the while, have you? -But do tell, Mr. Tressayle, who is that young man -talking with her?”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“I believe it is Mr. Rowley.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Gad is <span class='it'>he</span> the feller,” broke in Mr. Belville, -“that published the poems so many people are -cracking up? Why he isn’t much after all I guess. -For my part I don’t see why some people get -praised for writing poetry—it’s nothing—I could do -it myself if I’d try,” said he, with a sneer. “I don’t -think this Mr. Rowley a man of talent; no poet -is.” And finishing his sentence with a supercilious -look at the subject of his remarks, the ci-devant -green-grocer, inflated with the consciousness of his -wealth, thrust his fingers into his waistcoat pockets, -and marched off to join another group.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Why, my dear Miss Fletcher, how d’ye do?” -said the shrill voice of Mrs. Belville, at this moment, -as Mr. Rowley led his beautiful partner to a -seat near the pretender to ton, “how <span class='it'>have</span> you -been this age? Why how well you are looking. -Laws me, and so you know Mr. Tressayle. Well -now I do say how quiet you’ve all kept it.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It was as Mrs. Belville said. Clara Fletcher -had scarcely replied to the vulgar address of her -neighbor by a distant though polite inclination of -her head, before she caught the eyes of Tressayle -fixed upon her with a look of mingled inquiry and -delight, and as he bowed and stepped forward a -slight blush passed over her beautiful cheek, and a -scarcely perceptible tremor of the voice might have -been detected in replying to his salutation.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>That night mother and daughter held a long consultation, -the result of which was, that Miss Fletcher -might prove a formidable rival, and that therefore -no arts were to be omitted to detach the fashionable -and wealthy Mr. Tressayle from her suite.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Meanwhile, Tressayle reached his room, and -throwing himself abstractedly into a large <span class='it'>fautieul</span>, -sat for nearly an hour, with his face leaning on his -hand. At length he started up, and pacing the -room rapidly, exclaimed, as if continuing a train of -thought,</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“It is no use denying it, Clara Fletcher is far -more beautiful than I ever dreamed she could be. -Yes! and I once loved her,—at least I told her so. -I wonder if she would refuse me now,” and he -paused before the glass. “Pshaw! it is idle to -think so. True, she is not more than half as -wealthy as this inanimate little fool, Miss Belville; -but, then, there is the vulgar mother, and coarse -father of the latter. Clara has none of these. I -never saw their vulgarity so plainly as I did to-night. -Ah! I forgot, there is that coldness I -showed to Clara when her other uncle disappointed -every one’s expectations in omitting her in his will. -I’m cursedly afraid she’s not forgotten it. But, -then, how could one know she would ever become -an heiress? It’s deucedly unlucky, now I think -of it, that I never called on her in New York, after -my return from Europe. But ‘faint heart never -won fair lady;’ and, besides, if Clara ever loved -me, as I really think she once did, it’s not so difficult -a matter for Henry Tressayle to re-kindle that -affection in her bosom. Besides, I’m really making -a heroic sacrifice in giving up a fortune twice as -large for my old flame.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>From that time Tressayle was almost ever at the -side of the beautiful Clara Fletcher. He rode with -her, sang with her, danced with her, promenaded -with her, and did this too, without a rival, for her -former suitor, Mr. Rowley had been compelled to return -to New York by business, and few cared to -enter the lists against so resistless a beau as Tressayle. -Every body declared that they were already -affianced lovers, or they soon would be so, except -the Belvilles, whose chagrin could not be concealed, -and who sneered even at the probability of -such a thing.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Tressayle, however, was not so well satisfied with -his progress as was the world at large. His knowledge -of the sex told him that the conduct of Clara -toward him, was not exactly that of one whose affections -he had anew engaged. She was too easy, -too composed, possessed of too much quiet calmness -at all times, not to awaken uneasy suspicions, lest -her love was not yet gained. Still, however, she -did nothing to shew any distaste for Tressayle’s society, -and his own vanity led him on in the pursuit.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Nor was his love any longer a mere matter of -calculation to Tressayle. It had become a necessity—it -had grown into a passion. If ever he loved a -woman, that woman had been Clara Fletcher, and -when it had become known that she was not her uncle’s -heiress, it was not without a struggle that Tressayle -left her. But supremely selfish, and with a -fortune impaired by extravagance, he looked at it as -an impossibility that he should marry except to an -heiress. Now, however, all his old feelings toward -Clara were revived, and revived too in ten-fold force. -Her fortune was no longer an obstacle. Yes, Tressayle -loved; loved for the first time; loved with -more than the fervor of which such a man might be -thought capable. He could endure his suspense no -longer, and determining to propose at once for Clara, -he chose for his purpose, an afternoon when they -rode out unaccompanied together.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Words cannot describe the eloquence with which -the lover—for Tressayle’s talented, though selfish -mind, was capable of the highest eloquence—poured -forth his passion in the ear of his mistress. But it -drew no answering emotion from Clara. A slight -blush perhaps tinged her cheek a moment, but her -eye calmly looked into his own, and her voice was -firm and clear, as she replied,</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Listen to me, Tressayle,” she said. “I am young -still, but I was once younger. You remember it -well. Then I met you, and—need I disguise it?—you -spake to me of love. I know it was but once -you said so, but it was after you had paid attention -to me which <span class='it'>you</span> knew, as well as I, was more eloquent -than words. I had never seen one whom I -thought your equal, and I loved you. Stay—hear -me out. I loved you with all the ardor of a girl’s -first love. But how was it returned? While I -thought only of you,—while a word from you was -my law—while the day seemed gloomy without -your presence—while, in short, I gave to you freely -every emotion of my heart, <span class='it'>you</span> were coolly calculating -how much my fortune would be, and preparing, -as you subsequently did, to discard me altogether -in case I was not my uncle’s heiress—”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Oh, Clara, Clara, hear me.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Yes, Tressayle, but listen first, and then I will -hear you. You left me without cause when my uncle’s -will was opened and I was found to have been -overlooked. I need not tell you the agony of my -heart on discovering your character. Let that pass. -Reason conquered at last. They say a first love,” -continued the beautiful girl, looking at her companion -until his eye quailed before the calm dignity of -her own, “can never be conquered; but believe me it -is a mistake. When the object of that love is unworthy, -it is not impossible. And now, Tressayle, -you understand me. You are to me as a stranger. -Never can I love you again. I am, moreover, the -affianced bride of Mr. Rowley.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Tressayle could not answer a word. Mortification -and shame overpowered him, and he was glad -when he saw that they were near the termination of -their ride.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The first person they met on alighting was Mr. -Belville. Ashamed of himself and stung to the -very quick, Tressayle took advantage to propose to -the millionaire for his daughter.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“Gad, and are you the only ignorant man here -of your loss of fortune?” said Mr. Belville, superciliously. -“But I forgot the mail came in while -you were riding with Miss Fletcher. Good morning, -sir.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Tressayle hurried to his room, opened his letters, -and found that the Bank in which he was a large -stockholder was broken. In two hours he had left -Saratoga.</p> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:right;margin-right:3em;margin-top:0.5em;'>H. J. V.</p> - -<hr class='tbk122'/> - -<div><h1><a id='maid'></a>THE INDIAN MAID.</h1></div> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1em;font-weight:bold;'>A BALLAD.</p> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1em;font-weight:bold;'>SUNG BY MRS. WATSON,</p> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1em;font-weight:bold;'>THE MUSIC ARRANGED BY S. NELSON.</p> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p> - -<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-top:1em;'><span style='font-size:smaller'>Geo. W. Hewitt & Co. No. 184 Chesnut Street, Philadelphia.</span></p> - -<div class='figcenter'> -<img src='images/i098.jpg' alt='' id='iid-0002' style='width:80%;height:auto;'/> -</div> - -<div class='blockquote'> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>Morning’s dawn is in the skies,</p> -<p class='line0'>  Whilst o’er the Mountain height,</p> -<p class='line0'>Fast the glorious beams arise,</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -</div> - -<div class='figcenter'> -<img src='images/i099.jpg' alt='' id='iid-0003' style='width:80%;height:auto;'/> -</div> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>  Hail we their golden light:</p> -<p class='line0'>Ere the brightness of those rays</p> -<p class='line0'>  Dies on the distant sea,</p> -<p class='line0'>May the hopes of my young days</p> -<p class='line0'>  Be warm’d to life by thee.</p> -<p class='line0'>May the hopes of my young days</p> -<p class='line0'>  Be warm’d to life by thee.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>             2</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>Fairest flow’r ’neath eastern skies,</p> -<p class='line0'>  Stor’d in thy peaceful mind</p> -<p class='line0'>More of wealth for me there lies</p> -<p class='line0'>  Than in the gems of Ind.</p> -<p class='line0'>Never from thy trusting heart,</p> -<p class='line0'>  Ne’er from thy smiling brow</p> -<p class='line0'>May the hopes, the peace depart</p> -<p class='line0'>  Which beam upon them now.</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>             3</p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>Hours and days will wing their flight,</p> -<p class='line0'>  Still never day shall fade;</p> -<p class='line0'>But I’ll share some new delight</p> -<p class='line0'>  With thee, my Indian maid.</p> -<p class='line0'>In the passing hour of gloom</p> -<p class='line0'>  Rest thou thy cares on me;</p> -<p class='line0'>To restore thy pleasure’s bloom,</p> -<p class='line0'>  Will my best guerdon be.</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<hr class='tbk123'/> - -<div><h1><a id='sport'></a>SPORTS AND PASTIMES.</h1></div> - -<p class='pindent'>We have been favored with the Edinburg copy of -“The Rod and Gun,” an excellent work, from the -pen of the author of the celebrated “Oakleigh Shooting -Code.” The most important parts of the essay -are expanded in this volume, and many valuable hints -to sportsmen, gathered from all parts of the world, -and from the experience of the author, are thrown in. -With this work, the ablest decidedly that has of late -years been given to the sporting world—we propose -this month to make somewhat free, and intend hereafter -to push the acquaintance to the utmost verge -of familiarity, and shall present the writer to our -readers each month in form. He will be found to -improve, “like good wine upon acquaintance,” and -we feel assured that no good gentleman “and true,” -will fail to appreciate the honor, or to derive valuable -and instructive hints relative to manly exercises, -from his conversation. He makes his own -introduction:</p> - -<p class='pindent'>“The wand with which we now desire to charm -an enlightened and discerning public, was first waved -some seasons back. We think the butt end is not -much the worse for wear—we have strengthened the -mid-pieces, repaired the top, and given the whole a -coat of varnish, hoping that in the hands of others -now more fit for the practice of the gentle art than -we ourselves, it may prove a steady friend and true, -whether in still or troubled waters.”</p> - -<hr class='tbk124'/> - -<div><h1><a id='ang'></a>ANGLING.</h1></div> - -<div class='figcenter'> -<img src='images/i102.jpg' alt='' id='iid-0004' style='width:100%;height:auto;'/> -<p class='caption'><span class='bold'>THE PIKE.</span></p> -</div> - -<p class='pindent'>The pike is in season from May to February, and -is most frequently angled for by trolling with a strong -topped rod. The hooks are generally fastened to a -bit of brass wire for a few inches from the shaft, to -prevent the line from being snapped. Different methods -are used in angling for pike. <span class='it'>Trolling</span>, in the -more limited sense of the word, signifies catching fish -with the gorge-hook, which is composed of two, or -what is called a double eel-hook; <span class='it'>live-bait fishing</span> is -practised with the aid of a floated line; and <span class='it'>snap-fishing</span> -consists in the use of large hooks, so baited -as to enable the angler to strike the fish the moment -he feels it bite, immediately after which he drags it -<span class='it'>nolens volens</span> ashore.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Trolling for pike may be practised during the winter -months, when trout fishing has ceased; and the -colder season of the year is in fact more convenient -for the sport, owing to the decay or diminution of -the weeds which usually surround their favorite -haunts. With the exception of chub and dace, which -bite pretty freely at the bottom all winter, scarcely -any other fish can be relied upon for sport during the -more inclement portion of the year. To bait a gorge-hook, -take a baiting-needle, and hook the curved end -to the loop of the gimp, to which the hook is tied. -Then introduce the point of the needle into a dead -bait’s mouth, and bring it out at the middle of the -fork of the tail, by which means the piece of lead -which covers the shank of the hook, and part of the -connecting wire, will lie concealed in the interior of -the bait: the shank will be in the inside of its mouth, -and the barbs on the outside, turning upward. To -keep the bait steady on the hook, fasten the tail part -just above the fork to the gimp, with a silk or cotton -thread; or a neater method is, to pass the needle and -thread through the side of the bait, about half an inch -above the tail, so as encircle the gimp in the interior. -The baits used vary in weight -from one to four ounces, and -the hooks must be proportioned -to the size of the fish with -which they are baited. The -barbs of the hook ought not -to project much beyond the -sides of the mouth, because, -as the pike generally seizes -his prey cross-wise, and turns -it before it is pouched or swallowed, -if he feels the points -of the hook he may cast it out -entirely.</p> - -<div class='figcenter'> -<img src='images/i104.jpg' alt='' id='iid-0005' style='width:100%;height:auto;'/> -</div> - -<p class='pindent'>In trolling for pike, it is -advised to keep as far from -the water as possible, and to -commence casting close by -the near shore, with the wind -blowing from behind. When -the water is clear and the -weather bright, some prefer -to fish against the wind. -“After trying closely,” says -Mr. Salter, “make your next -throw farther in the water, -and draw and sink the baited -hook, drawing it straight upward -near to the surface of -the water, and also to right -and left, searching carefully -every foot of water; and draw -your bait with the stream, because -you must know that -jack and pike lay in wait for -food with their heads and eyes pointing up the -stream, to catch what may be coming down; therefore -experienced trollers fish a river or stream down, -or obliquely across; but the inconsiderate as frequently -troll against the stream, which is improper, -because they then draw their baited hook behind -either jack or pike when they are stationary, instead -of bringing it before his eyes and mouth to tempt -him. <span class='it'>Note.</span>—Be particularly careful, in drawing up -or taking the baited hook out of the water, not to do -it too hastily, because you will find by experience -that the jack and pike strike or seize your bait more -frequently when you are drawing it upward than -when it is sinking. And also farther observe, that -when drawing your bait upward, if you occasionally -shake the rod, it will cause the bait to spin and twist -about, which is very likely to attract either jack or -pike.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>These fish are partial to the bends of rivers and -the bays of lakes, where the water is shallow, and -abounding in weeds, reeds, water lilies, &c. In -fishing with the gorge-hook, when the angler feels -a run, he ought not to strike for several minutes -after the fish has become stationary, lest he pull the -bait away before it is fairly pouched. If a pike -makes a very short run, then remains stationary for -about a minute, and again makes one or two short -runs, he is probably merely retiring to some quiet -haunt before he swallows the bait; but if, after remaining -still for three or four minutes, he begins to -shake the line and move about, the inference is that -he has pouched the bait, and feels some annoyance -from the hook within, then such part of the line as -has been slackened may be wound up, and the fish -struck. It is an unsafe practice to lay down the rod -during the interval between a run and the supposed -pouching of the bait, because it not unfrequently -happens that a heavy fish, when he first feels the -hooks in his interior, will make a sudden and most -violent rush up the river or along the lake, and the -line is either instantly broken, or is carried, together -with both the rod and reel, for ever beyond the -angler’s reach. “When the pike cometh,” says -Colonel Venables, “you may see the water move, at -least you may feel him; then slack your line and -give him length enough to run away to his hold, -whither he will go directly, and there pouch it, ever -beginning (as you may observe) with the head, swallowing -that first. Thus let him lye until you see the -line move in the water, and then you may certainly -conclude he hath pouched your bait, and rangeth -about for more; then with your trowl wind up your -line till you think you have it almost streight, then -with a smart jerk hook him, and make your pleasure -to your content.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The fresher and cleaner the bait is kept, whether -for trolling, live-bait, or snap-fishing, the greater is -the chance of success.</p> - -<div class='figcenter'> -<img src='images/i105.jpg' alt='' id='iid-0006' style='width:100%;height:auto;'/> -</div> - -<p class='pindent'>As pike, notwithstanding their usual voracity, are -sometimes, as the anglers phrase it, more on the play -than the feed, they will occasionally seize the bait -across the body, and, instead of swallowing it, blow -it from them repeatedly and then take no farther -notice of it. The skilful and wily angler must instantly -convert his gorge into a snap, and strike him -in the lips or jaws when he next attempts such dangerous -amusement. The dead snap may be made -either with two or four hooks. Take about twelve -inches of stout gimp, make a loop at one end, at the -other tie a hook (size No. 2,) -and about an inch farther up -the gimp tie another hook of -the same dimensions; then -pass the loop of the gimp into -the gill of a dead bait-fish, and -out at its mouth, and draw the -gimp till the hook at the bottom -comes just behind the -back fin of the bait, and the -point and barb are made to -pierce slightly through its -skin, which keeps the whole -steady: now pass the ring of -a drop-bead lead over the loop -of the gimp, fix the lead inside -the bait’s mouth, and sew the -mouth up. This will suffice -for the snap with a couple of -hooks. If the four-hooked -snap is desired (and it is very -killing,) take a piece of stout gimp about four inches -long, and making a loop at one end, tie a couple of -hooks of the same size, and in the same manner as -those before described. After the first two and the -lead are in their places, and previous to the sewing -up of the mouth, pass the loop of the shorter gimp -through the opposite gill, and out at the mouth of the -bait; then draw up the hooks till they occupy a position -corresponding to those of the other side: next -pass the loop of the longer piece of gimp through -that of the shorter, and pull all straight: finally, tie -the two pieces of gimp together close to the fish’s -mouth, and sew the latter up.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Some anglers prefer fishing for pike with a floated -line and a live bait. When a single hook is used for -this purpose, it is baited in one or other of the two -following ways: Either pass the point and barb of -the hook through the lips of the bait, toward the side -of the mouth, or through beneath the base of the anterior -portion of the dorsal fin. When a double hook -is used, take a baiting-needle, hook its curved end -into the loop of the gimp, and pass its point beneath -the skin of the bait from behind the gills upward in a -sloping direction, bringing it out behind the extremity -of the dorsal fin; then draw the gimp till the bend of -the hooks are brought to the place where the needle -entered, and attach the loop to the trolling line. Unless -a kind of snap-fishing is intended, the hooks for -the above purpose should be of such a size as that -neither the points nor the barbs project beyond either -the shoulder or the belly of the bait.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Snap-fishing is certainly a less scientific method of -angling for pike than that with the gorge or live-bait; -for when the hooks are baited, the angler casts in -search, draws, raises, and sinks his bait, until he feels -a bite. He then strikes strongly and drags or throws -his victim on shore; for there is little fear of his -tackle giving way, as that used in snap-fishing is of -the largest and stoutest kind. “This hurried and unsportsmanlike -way of taking fish,” it is observed in -the <span class='it'>Troller’s Guide</span>, “can only please those who -value the game more than the sport afforded by killing -a jack or pike with tackle, which gives the fish a -chance of escaping, and excites the angler’s skill and -patience, mixed with a certain pleasing anxiety, and -the reward of his hopes. Neither has the snap-fisher -so good a chance of success, unless he angles in a -pond or piece of water where the jack or pike are -very numerous or half starved, and will hazard their -lives for almost any thing that comes in their way. -But in rivers where they are well fed, worth killing, -and rather scarce, the coarse snap-tackle, large hooks, -&c. generally alarm them. On the whole, I think it -is two to one against the snap in most rivers; and if -there are many weeds in the water, the large hooks -of the snap, by standing rank, are continually getting -foul, damaging the bait, and causing much trouble -and loss of time.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Pike sometimes rise at an artificial fly, especially in -dark, windy days. The fly ought to be dressed upon -a double hook, and composed of very gaudy materials. -The head is formed of a little fur, some gold twist, -and (if the angler’s taste inclines that way, for it is -probably a matter of indifference to the fish) two -small black or blue beads for eyes. The body is -framed rough, full, and round, the wings not parted, -but made to stand upright on the back, with some -small feathers continued down the back to the end of -the tail, so that when finished they may exceed the -length of the hook. The whole should be about the -bulk of a wren.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>During clear and calm weather in summer and autumn, -pike take most freely about three in the afternoon: -in winter they may be angled for with equal -chances of success during the whole day: early in the -morning, and late in the evening are the periods best -adapted for the spring.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>This fish is also angled for in a variety of ways by -fixed or set lines, and also by trimmers, or liggers, as -they are provincially called in some parts of England. -Horsea Mere and Heigham Sound are two large -pieces of water in the county of Norfolk, not far from -Yarmouth, noted for their pike, as partly immortalised -in old Camden’s famous lines of lengthened sweetness -long drawn out,—</p> - - - <div class='poetry-container' style=''> - <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' --> -<div class='stanza-outer'> -<p class='line0'>“Horsey Pike,</p> -<p class='line0'> None like.”</p> -</div> -</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend --> - -<p class='pindent'>Mr. Yarrell received the following returns from a -sporting gentleman, of four days’ fishing with trimmers -in these waters, in the month of March, 1834: -viz. on the 11th at Heigham Sounds, 60 pike, weighing -280 pounds; on the 13th at Horsea Mere, 89 pike, -weighing 379 pounds; on the 18th, again at Horsea -Mere, 49 pike, weighing 213 pounds; on the 19th, at -Heigham Sounds, 58 pike, weighing 263 pounds: the -four days sport producing 256 fish, weighing together -1135 pounds.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>As the mode of using trimmers in these extensive -<span class='it'>broads</span> affords great diversion, and is rather peculiar, -we shall here quote Mr. Yarrell’s account of it. “I -may state that the ligger or trimmer is a long cylindrical -float, made of wood or cork, or rushes tied -together at each end; to the middle of this float a -string is fixed, in length from eight to fifteen feet; -this string is wound round the float except two or -three feet, when the trimmer is to be put into the -water, and slightly fixed by a notch in the wood or -cork, or by putting it between the ends of the rushes. -The bait is fixed on the hook, and the hook fastened -to the end of the pendent string, and the whole then -dropped into the water. By this arrangement the -bait floats at any required depth, which should have -some reference to the temperature of the season,—pike -swimming near the surface in fine warm weather, -and deeper when it is colder, but generally keeping -near its peculiar haunts. When the bait is seized by -a pike, the jerk looses the fastening, and the whole -string unwinds,—the wood, cork, or rushes, floating -at the top, indicating what has occurred. Floats of -wood or cork are generally painted, to render them -more distinctly visible on the water to the fishers, -who pursue their amusement and the liggers in boats. -Floats of rushes are preferred to others, as least calculated -to excite suspicion in the fish.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>Pike are occasionally taken in the English lakes -above 30 pounds in weight, and Dr. Grierson mentions -one killed in Loch Ken, in Galloway, which weighed -61 pounds. The color of the young fish is of a greenish -hue, but it afterward becomes rather of a dusky -olive brown upon the upper parts, marked on the sides -with mottled green and yellow, and silvery white on -the abdomen. We do not think highly of its flesh, -although by many it is held in some esteem.</p> - -<hr class='tbk125'/> - -<div><h1><a id='rev'></a>REVIEW OF NEW BOOKS.</h1></div> - -<hr class='tbk126'/> - -<div class='blockquote'> - -<p class='hang'><span class='it'>“Mercedes of Castile,” a Romance, by J. Fennimore -Cooper. 2 vols. Lea & Blanchard, 1840.</span></p> - -</div> - -<p class='pindent'>As a history, this work is invaluable: as a novel, it -is well nigh worthless. The author deserves credit -for presenting to the public, in a readable form, so -much historical information, with which, otherwise, -the great mass of the community would have never -become acquainted; and he ought, also, to receive -proper commendation for having woven that information -in any way whatever, into the narrative of a novel; -but at the same time, if called upon to speak of his -work as a romance, and not as a history, we can -neither disguise from ourselves, nor from our readers, -that it is, if possible, the worst novel ever penned by -Mr. Cooper. A hasty sketch of the plot will fully -sustain our assertion.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The work opens with the marriage of Isabella of -Castile, and Ferdinand of Arragon, after which a -<span class='it'>hiatus</span> occurs of more than twenty-two years. This, in -the first place, is a grand error in the novelist. Had -he commenced his narrative at the siege of Granada -at once, we should have been spared an ungainly excrescence -on the very front of the story. We shall, -therefore, consider the novel as beginning properly at -an ensuing chapter.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The scene opens on the day when the city of Granada -is taken possession of by the Moors; and when -Columbus, as a suitor for vessels to carry on his -contemplated discoveries, is almost worn out with -seven years of delay and disappointment. A young -Spanish Grandee, called Luis Bobadilla, wild, adventurous, -and fond of roving at sea, happening to be -introduced to him in the crowd, is half persuaded to -embark with the navigator on his dangerous voyage; -an inclination which is strengthened to a firm resolve -by his mistress, who, forbidden by Queen Isabella to -marry so roving a nobleman, and thinking that such -a voyage would be taken as a sort of expiation by her -sovereign, advises, nay! commands him to embark -with Columbus. The difficulties; the hopes; the final -disappointment, and solitary departure of Columbus, -are then faithfully described, as well as his sudden -recall by order of the queen, and her determination to -fit out the expedition from her own purse. This, -however, we pass over, only remarking in passing, -that the fiery pursuit of the young grandee through -the Vega after the departing Columbus, and the -scene where he overtakes the dejected navigator, are -worthy of the best passages of the Pioneers, the -Water-Witch, or the Last of the <a id='moh'></a>Mohicans.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The young nobleman, consequently, disguised as a -sailor, sails with Columbus out into the, as then -thought, shoreless Atlantic. To describe this voyage -was manifestly the sole object of the author in writing -the work. Availing himself of the journal of the -admiral, and mingling just enough of fiction with the -incidents recorded there, to make it generally readable, -Mr. Cooper has succeeded in producing the most -popular, detailed, readable history of that voyage -which has yet seen the light; and for this, we again -repeat, he deserves much credit. But the very preponderance -given to the narration of this part of the story, -injures the work, <span class='it'>as a novel</span>, irremediably. It makes -it, in short, “neither fish, flesh, fowl, nor good red-herring.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>There is, indeed, an attempt to redeem the interest -of the story by the introduction of an Indian princess, -who, of course, falls in love with Bobadilla, and -whom, of course, he does not marry. She, however, -accompanies Luis home to Spain, and is the cause of -much jealousy on the part of his mistress, of much -anger on the part of the queen, and of just sufficient -clap-trap in the last few chapters, to satisfy the conscience -of your inveterate novel readers,—a class who -think no novel is good unless it has a pretty strong dose -of jealousy, reconcilement, and marriage, as a <span class='it'>finale</span>, -much as Tony Lumpkin thought “that the inside -of a letter was the cream of the correspondence.”</p> - -<p class='pindent'>In one thing we are disappointed in this novel. We -did not look for character in it, for that is not -Cooper’s <span class='it'>forte</span>: nor did we expect that his heroine -would be aught better than the inanimate thing she -is,—but we did expect he would have given us another -of those magnificent sea-pictures for which, -in all their sternness and sublimity, he is so justly -celebrated. We were mistaken. Excepting a storm, -which overtakes the Nina, we have nothing even -approaching to the grandeur of the Pilot and the Red -Rover. If Columbus did not figure in the romance,—and -what, after all, has he to do personally with the -denouement?—Mercedes of Castile would be the most -tame of romances. Cut out the historical account of -the voyage to San Salvador, by merely stating in -one, instead of a score of chapters, that the hero performed -his penance, and—we stake our grey goose-quill -against the copy-right on it—that not two out of -every dozen, who read the novel, will pronounce it -even interesting.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>It is but justice to the author to say that the necessity -of adhering closely to fact in his romance, is the -true secret of its want of interest; for how could any -hero, no matter whom, awaken our sympathy strongly, -so long as Columbus figured in the same narrative? -Besides, the voyage which the hero undertakes to win -his mistress, being a matter of history, we are from -the first without any curiosity as to its result—we -want, indeed, all that exciting suspense, without -which a novel is worthless. Our author appears to -have been aware of this, and therefore introduces -Omenea, and makes Mercedes jealous, and the queen -suspicious, in order to create this suspense. For all -the purposes of a love-story, therefore, the novel -might as well have begun toward the close of the -second volume, an introductory chapter merely being -affixed, narrating rapidly the events which, in the present -work, are diluted into a volume and a half. The -interest of a romance should continue, let it be remembered, -throughout the whole story; but in Mercedes -of Castile it does not begin until we are about -to close the book.</p> - -<hr class='tbk127'/> - -<div class='blockquote'> - -<p class='hang'><span class='it'>“American Melodies.” Containing a single selection -from the production of two hundred writers. Compiled -by George P. Morris. For sale by Henry -Perkins, Philadelphia.</span></p> - -</div> - -<p class='pindent'>This is one of the prettiest little gift books of the -season. The typography is good as well as the binding. -The title of the work has been the subject of much -captious criticism by the herd who are constantly detecting -spots in the sun, and who lack the calibre of -intellect necessary to a manly and liberal criticism of -a literary performance. The selections were originally -made of <span class='it'>songs</span> set to music, but as this was -found to narrow down, rather much, the limits assigned -for the work, the compiler took a wider range, and -included in the volume pieces <span class='it'>adapted</span> to music also. -He has been candid enough to say in the dedication, -that in making these selections he has not been -guided so much by the literary worth of the articles, -as by their admission into the musical world. A -second volume is already under way, in which many -names of note, necessarily omitted in the first, will be -included.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The compiler has every reason to congratulate him -self upon the happy performance of his task. A -more interesting or valuable little volume has not -been given to the public for many-a-day. If the -second is like unto it, General Morris will have added -another to the long list of obligations which the public -owes him, in creating a taste for national melody.</p> - -<hr class='tbk128'/> - -<div class='blockquote'> - -<p class='hang'><span class='it'>“French Writers of Eminence.” By Mrs. Shelley, -and others. 2 vols. Lea & Blanchard.</span></p> - -</div> - -<p class='pindent'>This compilation, for it is nothing more—has the -merit of presenting well-known Encyclopædia biographies -of French authors, to the general public, in -a cheap and portable form,—thus bringing down much -valuable information within the means of those who -could not afford to purchase the larger and more comprehensive -work. The design is praiseworthy.</p> - -<p class='pindent'>The sketches of Rabelais, Racine, Corneille, Moliere, -Voltaire, Rochefoucald, and others, will prove -highly interesting to those who have not perused -them before. A more valuable work, when considered -solely as an introduction to French literature, has -not, for some time, been issued from the American -press. We would guard our readers, however, from -fancying that Mrs. Shelley was the principal author of -these sketches, as it would neither be truth, nor, in -fact, add to her reputation.</p> - -<hr class='tbk129'/> - -<div class='blockquote'> - -<p class='hang'><span class='it'>“Poems.” By J. N. McJilton. Boston: Otis, -Broaders & Co.</span></p> - -</div> - -<p class='pindent'>This volume is a compilation of pieces, most of -which have appeared in the prominent American -Magazines. Many of them were written at the time -the author was connected, as editor, with the Baltimore -Literary Monument. Several pieces in this -volume may take a high rank in American poetry, -and all of them do credit to the writer. The work is -beautifully printed.</p> - -<hr class='tbk130'/> - -<div class='blockquote'> - -<p class='hang'><span class='it'>“The Literary Amaranth of Prose and Poetry.” By -N. C. Brooks. Author of Scripture Anthology, -Philadelphia: Kay & Brother.</span></p> - -</div> - -<p class='pindent'>This is chiefly a collection of the fugitive pieces of -Mr. Brooks, with some emendation. Of the talents -of the author we have had occasion before to speak, -both in the Magazine and elsewhere. His Scripture -Anthology established his claims as a writer. The -work is beautifully got up, in the annual style, and is -worthy of a conspicuous place upon the centre-table, -among the presents of the season.</p> - -<hr class='tbk131'/> - -<p class='pindent'>Reviews of the Third Volume of Bancroft’s History -of the United States, of Mrs. Gore’s volume of Tales, -and of several of the Annuals, have been crowded out -by our press of matter. We shall, perhaps, be able to -notice Bulwer’s last novel,—Morning and Night,—in -our next.</p> - -<hr class='tbk132'/> - -<p class='pindent'><a id='late'></a></p> - -<div class='figcenter'> -<img src='images/i112.jpg' alt='' id='iid-0007' style='width:100%;height:auto;'/> -<p class='caption'><span class='bold'><span style='font-size:smaller'>THE LATEST FASHIONS, JANUARY 1841, FOR GRAHAM’S MAGAZINE.</span></span></p> -</div> - -<hr class='tbk133'/> - -<p class='line' style='margin-top:2em;font-size:1.1em;font-weight:bold;'><a id='notes'></a>Transcriber’s Notes:</p> - -<p class='noindent'>Table of Contents has been added for reader convenience. Archaic spellings and hyphenation have been retained. -Obvious punctuation and typesetting errors have been corrected -without note. Other errors have been corrected as noted below. For -illustrations, some caption text may be missing or incomplete due to condition of -the originals available for preparation of the eBook. A cover was created for this eBook and is placed in the public domain.</p> - -<div class='lgl' style=''> <!-- rend=';' --> -<p class='line'> </p> -<p class='line'>page 22, ancestors where from Germany, ==> ancestors <a href='#were'>were</a> from Germany,</p> -<p class='line'>page 37, vestment died with many colors ==> vestment <a href='#dye'>dyed</a> with many colors</p> -<p class='line'>page 47, or the Last of the Mohicians ==> or the Last of the <a href='#moh'>Mohicans</a></p> -<p class='line'> </p> -</div> <!-- end rend --> - -<p class='noindent'>[End of Graham’s Magazine, Vol. XVIII, No. 1, January 1841, George R. Graham, Editor]</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Graham's Magazine, Vol. XVIII, No. 1, -January 1841, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE, JANUARY 1841 *** - -***** This file should be named 63639-h.htm or 63639-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/6/3/63639/ - -Produced by Mardi Desjardins & the online Distributed -Proofreaders Canada team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net from -page images generously made available by The Internet -Archive (https://archive.org) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - - - -</pre> - - </body> - <!-- created with fpgen.py 4.62b on 2020-11-03 02:24:13 GMT --> -</html> diff --git a/old/63639-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/63639-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 16dc69d..0000000 --- a/old/63639-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63639-h/images/i007.jpg b/old/63639-h/images/i007.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 659cf49..0000000 --- a/old/63639-h/images/i007.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63639-h/images/i098.jpg b/old/63639-h/images/i098.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 4b1bbd5..0000000 --- a/old/63639-h/images/i098.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63639-h/images/i099.jpg b/old/63639-h/images/i099.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index b6fcb4d..0000000 --- a/old/63639-h/images/i099.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63639-h/images/i102.jpg b/old/63639-h/images/i102.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index f71e3c5..0000000 --- a/old/63639-h/images/i102.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63639-h/images/i104.jpg b/old/63639-h/images/i104.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index b6f1ac2..0000000 --- a/old/63639-h/images/i104.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63639-h/images/i105.jpg b/old/63639-h/images/i105.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index eeb2fef..0000000 --- a/old/63639-h/images/i105.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63639-h/images/i112.jpg b/old/63639-h/images/i112.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 1168c75..0000000 --- a/old/63639-h/images/i112.jpg +++ /dev/null |
