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+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
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #63665 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/63665)
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Graham's Magazine, Vol. XVIII, No. 2,
-February 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. 2, February 1841
-
-Author: Various
-
-Editor: George R. Graham
-
-Release Date: November 7, 2020 [EBook #63665]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE, FEBRUARY 1841 ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Mardi Desjardins & the online Distributed
-Proofreaders Canada team at https://www.pgdpcanada.net
-from page images generously made available by the Internet
-Archive (https://archive.org)
-
-
-
-
-
- GRAHAM’S MAGAZINE.
- Vol. XVIII. February, 1841. No. 2.
-
-
- Contents
-
- Fiction, Literature and Articles
-
- The Blind Girl of Pompeii
- The Reefer of ’76 (continued)
- My Grandmother’s Tankard
- The Rescued Knight
- The Silver Digger
- The Syrian Letters (continued)
- The Saccharineous Philosophy
- The Confessions of a Miser
- Sports and Pastimes. Shooting
- Review of New Books
-
- Poetry, Music and Fashion
-
- The Dream of the Delaware
- Little Children
- Skating
- The Soul’s Destiny
- Winter
- The Fairy’s Home
- Not Lost, But Gone Before
- Not for Me! Not for Me!
- Fashions for February, 1841
-
- Transcriber’s Notes can be found at the end of this eBook.
-
- * * * * *
-
-[Illustration: _J. Sartain sc._
-
-The Blind Girl of Pompeii
-
-_Eng^{d} for Graham’s Magazine from the Original Picture by Leutze in the
- possession of J. Sill Esq. Phil^{a.}_]
-
- * * * * *
-
- GRAHAM’S MAGAZINE.
-
- Vol. XVIII. FEBRUARY, 1841. No. 2.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- THE BLIND GIRL OF POMPEII.
-
-
-Who that has read the “Last Days of Pompeii” can forget Nydia, the blind
-flower-girl? So sweet, and pure, and gentle, and devoted in her
-unrequited love, she steals insensibly upon the heart, and wins a place
-therein, which even the brilliant Ione fails to obtain! Poor, artless
-innocent, her life, alas! was one of disappointment from its birth.
-
-We cannot better portray the character of this guileless being than by
-copying the exquisite description of Bulwer. The scene opens with a
-company of gay, young Pompeiians—among whom is Glaucus, the hero of the
-story—taking a morning stroll through the town. We let the story speak
-for itself.
-
-“Thus conversing, their steps were arrested by a crowd gathered round an
-open space where three streets met; and just where the porticoes of a
-light and graceful temple threw their shade, there stood a young girl,
-with a flower-basket on her right arm, and a small three-stringed
-instrument of music in the left hand, to whose low and soft tones she
-was modulating a wild and half-barbaric air. At every pause in the music
-she gracefully waved her flower basket round, inviting the loiterers to
-buy; and many a sesterce was showered into the basket, either in
-compliment to the music, or in compassion to the songstress—for she was
-blind.
-
-“‘It is my poor Thessalian,’ said Glaucus, stopping; ‘I have not seen
-her since my return to Pompeii. Hush! her voice is sweet; let us
-listen.’
-
- THE BLIND FLOWER GIRL’S SONG.
-
- Buy my Flowers—O buy—I pray,
- The Blind Girl comes from afar:
- If the Earth be as fair as I hear them say,
- These Flowers her children are!
- Do they her beauty keep?
- They are fresh from her lap, I know;
- For I caught them fast asleep
- In her arms an hour ago,
- With the air which is her breath—
- Her soft and delicate breath—
- Over them murmuring low!—
-
- On their lips her sweet kiss lingers yet,
- And their cheeks with her tender tears are wet,
- For she weeps,—that gentle mother weeps
- (As morn and night her watch she keeps,
- With a yearning heart and a passionate care,)
- To see the young things grow so fair;
- She weeps—for love she weeps—
- And the dews are the tears she weeps
- From the well of a mother’s love!
-
- Ye have a world of light,
- Where love in the lov’d rejoices;
- But the Blind Girl’s home is the House of Night,
- And its Beings are empty voices.
-
- As one in the Realm below,
- I stand by the streams of wo;
- I hear the vain shadows glide,
- I feel their soft breath at my side,
- And I thirst the lov’d forms to see,
- And I stretch my fond arms around,
- And I catch but a shapeless sound,
- For the Living are Ghosts to me.
-
- Come buy—come buy!—
- Hark! how the sweet things sigh
- (For they have a voice like ours,)
- “The breath of the Blind Girl closes
- The leaves of the saddening roses—
- We are tender, we sons of Light,
- We shrink from this child of Night;
- From the grasp of the Blind Girl free us,
- We yearn for the eyes that see us—
- We are for Night too gay,
- In our eyes we behold the day—
- O buy—O buy the Flowers!”
-
-“‘I must have yon bunch of violets, sweet Nydia,’ said Glaucus, pressing
-through the crowd, and dropping a handful of small coins into the
-basket; ‘your voice is more charming than ever.’
-
-“The blind girl started forward as she heard the Athenian’s voice—then
-as suddenly paused, while the blood rushed violently over neck, cheek,
-and temples.
-
-“‘So you are returned!’ said she in a low voice; and then repeated, half
-to herself, ‘Glaucus is returned!’
-
-“‘Yes, child, I have not been at Pompeii above a few days. My garden
-wants your care as before, you will visit it, I trust, to-morrow. And
-mind, no garlands at my house shall be woven by any hands but those of
-the pretty Nydia.’
-
-“Nydia smiled joyously, but did not answer; and Glaucus, placing the
-violets he had selected in his breast, turned gayly and carelessly from
-the crowd.
-
-“‘So, she is a sort of client of yours, this child?’ said Clodius.
-
-“‘Ay—does she not sing prettily? She interests me, the poor
-slave!—besides, she is from the land of the Gods’ hill—Olympus frowned
-upon her cradle—she is of Thessaly.’”
-
-How exquisitely is the love of Nydia told in her joy at the return of
-Glaucus! Only a master-hand could have described it in that blush, and
-start, and the glad exclamation, “Glaucus is returned!”
-
-The revellers meanwhile pass on their way, and it is not till the
-following morning that the flower-girl appears again upon the scene. But
-though she comes even while the Athenian is musing on his mistress Ione,
-there is a beauty around Nydia’s every movement which makes us hail her
-with delight. It is her appearance at this visit which the artist has
-transferred to the canvass. Lo! are not the limner and the author
-equally inimitable?
-
-“Longer, perhaps, had been the enamored soliloquy of Glaucus, but at
-that moment a shadow darkened the threshold of the chamber, and a young
-female, still half a child in years, broke upon his solitude. She was
-dressed simply in a white tunic, which reached from the neck to the
-ankles; under her arm she bore a basket of flowers, and in the other
-hand she held a bronze water vase; her features were more formed than
-exactly became her years, yet they were soft and feminine in their
-outline, and without being beautiful in themselves they were almost made
-so by their beauty of expression; there was something ineffably gentle,
-and you would say patient, in her aspect—a look of resigned sorrow, of
-tranquil endurance, had banished the smile, but not the sweetness, from
-her lips; something timid and cautious in her step—something wandering
-in her eyes, led you to suspect the affliction which she had suffered
-from her birth—she was blind; but in the orbs themselves there was no
-visible defect, their melancholy and subdued light was clear, cloudless,
-and serene. ‘They tell me that Glaucus is here,’ said she; ‘may I come
-in?’
-
-“‘Ah, my Nydia,’ said the Greek, ‘is that you? I knew you would not
-neglect my invitation.’
-
-“‘Glaucus did but justice to himself,’ answered Nydia, with a blush,
-‘for he has always been kind to the poor blind girl.’
-
-“‘Who could be otherwise?’ said Glaucus, tenderly, and in the voice of a
-compassionate brother.
-
-“Nydia sighed and paused before she resumed, without replying to his
-remark. ‘You have but lately returned? This is the sixth sun that hath
-shone upon me at Pompeii. And you are well? Ah, I need not ask—for who
-that sees the earth which they tell me is so beautiful can be ill?’
-
-“‘I am well—and you, Nydia?—how you have grown! next year you will be
-thinking of what answer we shall make your lovers.’
-
-“A second blush passed over the cheek of Nydia, but this time she
-frowned as she blushed. ‘I have brought you some flowers,’ said she,
-without replying to a remark she seemed to resent, and feeling about the
-room till she found the table that stood by Glaucus, she laid the basket
-upon it: ‘they are poor, but they are fresh gathered.’
-
-“‘They might come from Flora herself,’ said he, kindly; ‘and I renew
-again my vow to the Graces that I will wear no other garlands while thy
-hands can weave me such as these.’
-
-“‘And how find you the flowers in your viridarium? are they thriving?’
-
-“‘Wonderfully so—the Lares themselves must have tended them.’
-
-“‘Ah, now you give me pleasure; for I came, as often as I could steal
-the leisure, to water and tend them in your absence.’
-
-“‘How shall I thank thee, fair Nydia?’ said the Greek. ‘Glaucus little
-dreamed that he left one memory so watchful over his favorites at
-Pompeii.’
-
-“The hand of the child trembled, and her breast heaved beneath her
-tunic. She turned around in embarrassment. ‘The sun is hot for the poor
-flowers,’ said she, ‘to-day, and they will miss me, for I have been ill
-lately, and it is nine days since I visited them.’
-
-“‘Ill, Nydia! yet your cheek has more color than it had last year.’
-
-“‘I am often ailing,’ said the blind girl, touchingly, ‘and as I grow up
-I grieve more that I am blind. But now to the flowers!’ So saying, she
-made a slight reverence with her head, and passing into the viridarium,
-busied herself with watering the flowers.
-
-“‘Poor Nydia,’ thought Glaucus, gazing on her, ‘thine is a hard doom.
-Thou seest not the earth—nor the sun—nor the ocean—nor the
-stars—above all, thou canst not behold Ione.’
-
-Nydia, too, is a slave, and to a coarse inn-keeper, who would make a
-profit by her beauty and her singing. How her heart breaks daily at the
-brutal treatment of her master, and the still more cruel language of his
-patrons! But at length Glaucus purchases her, and she is comparatively
-happy. And through all her melancholy history how does her hopeless love
-shine out, beautifying and making more sweet than ever, her guileless
-character! It is a long and mournful tale. Glaucus at length succeeds in
-winning Ione; they escape fortunately from the destruction of Pompeii;
-but Nydia, uncomplaining, yet broken-hearted, disappears mysteriously
-from the deck of their vessel at night. Need we tell her probable fate?
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- THE REEFER OF ’76.
-
-
- BY THE AUTHOR OF “CRUIZING IN THE LAST WAR.”
-
-
- FORT MOULTRIE.
-
-How often has the story of the heart been told! The history of the love
-of one bosom is that of the millions who have alternated between hope
-and fear since first the human heart began to throb. The gradual
-awakening of our affection; the first consciousness we have of our own
-feelings; the tumultuous emotions of doubt and certainty we experience,
-and the wild rapture of the moment, when, for the first time, we learn
-that our love is requited, have all been told by pens more graphic than
-mine, and in language as nervous as that of Fielding, or as moving as
-that of Richardson.
-
-The daily companionship into which I was now thrown with Beatrice was,
-of all things, the most dangerous to my peace. From the first moment
-when I beheld her she had occupied a place in my thoughts; and the
-footing of acquaintanceship, not to say intimacy, on which we now lived,
-was little calculated to banish her from my mind. Oh! how I loved to
-linger by her side during the moonlight evenings of that balmy latitude,
-talking of a thousand things which, at other times, would have been void
-of interest, or gazing silently upon the peaceful scene around, with a
-hush upon our hearts it seemed almost sacrilege to break. And at such
-times how the merest trifle would afford us food for conversation, or
-how eloquent would be the quiet of that holy silence! Yes! the ripple of
-a wave, or the glimmer of the spray, or the twinkling of a star, or the
-voice of the night-wind sighing low, or the deep, mysterious language of
-the unquiet ocean, had, at such moments, a beauty in them, stirring
-every chord in our hearts, and filling us, as it were, with sympathy not
-only for each other, but for every thing in Nature. And when we would
-part for the night, I would pace for hours, my solitary watch, thinking
-of Beatrice, with all the rapt devotion of a first, pure love.
-
-But this could not last. The dream was pleasant, yet it might not lead
-me to dishonor. Beatrice was under my protection, and was it right to
-avail myself of that advantage to win her heart, when I knew from the
-difference of our stations in life, that it was madness to think that
-she could ever be mine. What? the heiress of one of the richest Jamaica
-residents, the grand-daughter of a baron, and the near connexion of some
-of the wealthiest tory families of the south, to be wooed as an equal by
-one who not only had no fortune but his sword, but was the advocate, in
-the eyes of her advisers, of a rebellious cause! Nor did the service I
-had rendered her lessen the difficulty of my position.
-
-These feelings, however, had rendered me more guarded, perhaps more
-cold, in the presence of Beatrice, for a day or two preceding our
-arrival in port. I felt my case hopeless: and I wished, by gradually
-avoiding the danger, to lessen the agony of the final separation.
-Besides, I knew nothing as yet of the sentiments of Beatrice toward
-myself. I was a novice in love; and the silent abstraction of her
-manner, together with the gradually increasing avoidance of my presence,
-filled me with uneasiness, despite the conviction of the hopelessness of
-my suit. But what was it to me, I would say, even if Beatrice loved me
-not? Was it not better that it should be so? Alas! reason and love are
-two very different things, and though I was better satisfied with myself
-when we made the lights of Charleston harbor, yet the almost total
-separation which had thus for nearly two days existed between Beatrice
-and myself, left my heart tormented with all a lover’s fears.
-
-It was the last evening we would spend together, perhaps for years. The
-wind had died away, and we slowly floated upward with the tide, the
-shores of James Island hanging like a dark cloud on the larboard beam,
-and the lights of the distant city, glimmering along the horizon
-inboard; while no sound broke the stillness of the hour, except the
-occasional wash of a ripple, or the song of some negro fishermen
-floating across the water. As I stood by the starboard railing, gazing
-on this scenery, I could not help contrasting my present situation with
-what it had been but a few short weeks before, when I left the harbor of
-New York. So intensely was I wrapt in these thoughts, that I did not
-notice the appearance of Beatrice on deck, until the question of the
-helmsman, dissolving my reverie, caused me to look around me. For a
-moment I hesitated whether I should join her or not. My feelings at
-length, however, prevailed; and crossing the deck, I soon stood at her
-side. She did not appear to notice my presence, but with her elbow
-resting on the railing, and her head buried in her hand, was pensively
-looking down upon the tide.
-
-“Miss Derwent!” said I, with a voice that I was conscious trembled,
-though I scarce knew why it did.
-
-“Mr. Parker!” she ejaculated in a tone of surprise, her eyes sparkling,
-as starting suddenly around she blushed over neck and brow, and then as
-suddenly dropped her eyes to the deck, and began playing with her fan.
-For a moment we were both mutually embarrassed. A woman is, at such
-times, the first to speak.
-
-“Shall we be able to land to-night?” said Beatrice.
-
-“Not unless a breeze springs up—”
-
-“Oh! then I hope we shall not have one,” ejaculated the guileless girl;
-but instantly becoming aware of the interpretation which might be put
-upon her remark, she blushed again, and cast her eyes anew upon the
-deck. A strange, joyous hope shot through my bosom; but I made a strong
-effort and checked my feelings. Another silence ensued, which every
-moment became more oppressive.
-
-“You join, I presume, your cousin’s family on landing,” said I at
-length, “I will, as soon as we come to anchor, send a messenger ashore,
-apprising him of your presence on board.”
-
-“How shall I ever thank you sufficiently,” said Beatrice, raising her
-dark eyes frankly to mine, “for your kindness? Never—never,” she
-continued more warmly, “shall I forget it.”
-
-My soul thrilled to its deepest fibre at the words, and more than all,
-at the tone of the speaker; and it was with some difficulty that I could
-answer calmly,—
-
-“The consciousness of having ever merited Miss Derwent’s thanks, is a
-sufficient reward for all I have done. That she will not wholly forget
-me is more than I could ask; but believe me, Beatrice,” said I, unable
-to restrain my feelings, and venturing, for the first time, to call her
-by that name, “though we shall soon part forever, never, never can I
-forget these few happy days.”
-
-“Why—do you leave Charleston instantly?” said she, with emotion, “shall
-I not see you again after my landing?”
-
-I know not how it is, but there are moments when our best resolutions
-vanish as though they had never been made; and now, as I looked upon the
-earnest countenance of Beatrice, and felt the full meaning of the words
-so innocently said, a wild hope once more shot across my bosom, and I
-said softly,—
-
-“Why, Beatrice, would it be aught to you whether we ever met again?”
-
-She lifted her eyes up to mine, and gazed for an instant almost
-reproachfully upon me, but she did not answer. There was something,
-however, in the look encouraging me to go on. I took her hand: she did
-not withdraw it: and, in a few hurried, but burning words, I poured
-forth my love.
-
-“Say, Beatrice?” I said, “can you, do you love me?”
-
-She raised her dark eyes in answer up to mine, with an expression I
-shall never forget, and murmured, half inaudibly,—
-
-“You know—you know I do,” and then overcome by the consciousness of all
-she had done, she burst into tears.
-
-Can words describe my feelings? Oh! if I had the eloquence of a Rosseau
-I could not portray the emotions of that moment. They were wild; they
-were almost uncontrollable. The tone, the words, everything convinced me
-that I was beloved; and all my well-formed resolutions were dissipated
-in a moment. Had we been alone I would have caught Beatrice to my bosom;
-but as it was, I could only press her hand in silence. I needed not to
-be assured, in more direct terms, of her affection. Henceforth she was
-to me my all. She was the star of my destiny!
-
-The first dawn of morning beheld us abreast of the town, and at an early
-hour the equipage of Mr. Rochester, the relative of Beatrice, and whose
-guest she was now to be, was in waiting on the quay for my beautiful
-charge.
-
-“You will come to-night, will you not?” said she, as I pressed her hand,
-on conducting her to the carriage.
-
-I bowed affirmatively, the door was closed, and the sumptuous equipage,
-with its servants in livery, moved rapidly away.
-
-It was now that I had parted with Beatrice, that the conviction of the
-almost utter hopelessness of my suit forced itself upon my mind. Mr.
-Rochester was the nearest male relative of Beatrice, being her maternal
-uncle. Her parents were both deceased, and the uncle, whose death I have
-related, together with the Carolinian nabob, were, by her father’s will,
-her guardians. Mr. Rochester was, therefore, her natural protector. Her
-fortune, though large, was fettered with a condition that she should not
-marry without her guardian’s consent, and I soon learned that a union
-had long been projected between her and the eldest son of her surviving
-guardian. How little hope I had before, the reader knows, but that
-little was now fearfully diminished. It is true Beatrice had owned that
-she loved me, but how could I ask her to sacrifice the comforts as well
-as the elegancies of life, to share her lot with a poor unfriended
-midshipman? I could not endure the thought. What! should I take
-advantage of the gratitude of a pure young being—a being, too, who had
-always been nourished in the lap of luxury—to subject her to privation,
-and perhaps to beggary? No, rather would I have lived wholly absent from
-her presence. I could almost have consented to lose her love, sooner
-than be the instrument of inflicting on her miseries so crushing. My
-only hope was in winning a name that would yet entitle me to ask her
-hand as an equal: my only fear was, lest the length of time I should be
-absent from her side, would gradually lose me her affection. Such is the
-jealous fear of a lover’s heart.
-
-Meanwhile, however, the whole city resounded with the din of war. A
-despatch from the Secretary of Slate, to Gov. Eden, of Maryland, had
-been intercepted by Com. Barron, of the Virginia service, in the
-Chesapeake. From this missive, intelligence was gleaned that the capital
-of South Carolina was to be attacked; and on my arrival I found every
-exertion being made to place it in a posture of defence. I instantly
-volunteered, and the duties thus assumed, engrossing a large part of my
-time, left me little leisure, even for my suit. Still, however, I
-occasionally saw Beatrice, though the cold hauteur with which my visits
-were received by her uncle’s family, much diminished their frequency.
-
-As the time rolled on, however, and the British fleet did not make its
-appearance, there were not wanting many who believed that the
-contemplated attack had been given up. But I was not of the number. So
-firm, indeed, was my conviction of the truth of the intelligence that I
-ran out to sea every day or two, in a smart-sailing pilot-boat, in
-order, if possible, to gain the first positive knowledge of the approach
-of our foes.
-
-“A sail,” shouted our look-out one day, after we had been standing off
-and on for several hours, “a sail, broad on the weather-beam!”
-
-Every eye was instantly turned toward the quarter indicated; spy-glasses
-were brought into requisition; and in a few minutes we made out
-distinctly nearly a dozen sail, on the larboard tack, looming up on the
-northern sea-board. We counted no less than six men-of-war, besides
-several transports. Every thing was instantly wet down to the trucks,
-and heading at once for Charleston harbor, we soon bore the alarming
-intelligence to the inhabitants of the town.
-
-That night all was terror and bustle in the tumultuous capital. The
-peaceful citizens, unused to bloodshed, gazed upon the approaching
-conflict with mingled resolution and terror, now determining to die
-rather than to be conquered, and now trembling for the safety of their
-wives and little ones. Crowds swarmed the wharves, and even put out into
-the bay to catch a sight of the approaching squadron. At length it
-appeared off the bar, and we soon saw by their buoying out the channel,
-that an immediate attack was to take place by sea,—while expresses
-brought us hasty intelligence of the progress made by the royal troops
-in landing on Long Island. But want of water among our foes, and the
-indecision of their General, protracted the attack for more than three
-weeks, a delay which we eagerly improved.
-
-At length, on the morning of the 28th of June, it became evident that
-our assailants were preparing to commence the attack. Eager to begin my
-career of fame, I sought a post under Col. Moultrie, satisfied that the
-fort on Sullivan’s Island would have to maintain the brunt of the
-conflict.
-
-Never shall I forget the sight which presented itself to me on reaching
-our position. The fort we were expected to maintain, was a low building
-of palmetto logs, situated on a tongue of the island, and protected in
-the rear from the royalist troops, on Long Island, by a narrow channel,
-usually fordable, but now, owing to the late prevalence of easterly
-winds, providentially filled to a depth of some fathoms. In front of us
-lay the mouth of the harbor, commanded on the opposite shore, at the
-distance of about thirty-five hundred yards, by another fort in our
-possession, where Col. Gadsen, with a respectable body of troops was
-posted. To the right opened the bay, sweeping almost a quarter of the
-compass around the horizon, toward the north,—and on its extreme verge,
-to the north west, rose up Haddrell’s point, where General Lee, our
-commander-in-chief, had taken up a position. About half way around, and
-due west from us, lay the city, at the distance of nearly four miles,
-the view being partly intercepted by the low, marshy island, called
-Shute’s Folly, between us and the town.
-
-“We have but twenty-eight pounds of powder, Mr. Parker, a fact I should
-not like generally known,” said Col. Moultrie to me, “but as you have
-been in action before—more than I can say of a dozen of my men—I know
-you may be trusted with the information.”
-
-“Never doubt the brave continentals here, colonel,” I replied, “they are
-only four hundred, but we shall teach yon braggarts a lesson, before
-to-day is over, which they shall not soon forget.”
-
-“Bravo, my gallant young friend! With my twenty-six eighteen and twenty
-four pounders, plenty of powder, and a few hundred fire-eaters like
-yourself I would blow the whole fleet out of water. But after all,” said
-he with good-humored raillery, “though you’ll not glory in rescuing Miss
-Derwent to-day, you’ll fight not a whit the worse for knowing that she
-is in Charleston, eh! But, come, don’t blush—you must be my aid—I
-shall want you, depend upon it, before the day is over. If those
-red-coats here, behind us, attempt to take us in the rear, we shall have
-hot work,—for by my hopes of eternal salvation, I’ll drive them back,
-man and officer, in spite of Gen. Lee’s fears that I cannot. But ha!
-there comes the first bomb.”
-
-Looking upward as he spoke, I beheld a large, dark body flying through
-the air; and in the next instant, amidst a cheer from our men, it
-splashed into the morass behind us, simmered, and went out.
-
-“Well sent, old Thunderer,” ejaculated the imperturbable colonel, “but,
-faith, many another good bomb will you throw away on the swamps and
-palmetto logs you sneer at. Open upon them, my brave fellows, as they
-come around, and teach them what Carolinians can do. Remember, you fight
-to-day for your wives, your children, and your liberties. The
-Continental Congress forever against the minions of a tyrannical court.”
-
-The battle was now begun. One by one the British men-of-war, coming
-gallantly into their respective stations, and dropping their anchors
-with masterly coolness, opened their batteries upon us, firing with a
-rapidity and precision that displayed their skill. The odds against
-which we had to contend were indeed formidable. Directly in front of us,
-with springs on their cables, and supported by two frigates, were
-anchored a couple of two-deckers; while the three other men-of-war were
-working up to starboard, and endeavoring to get a position between us
-and the town, so as to cut off our communications with Haddrell’s Point.
-
-“Keep it up—run her out again,” shouted the captain of a gun beside me,
-who was firing deliberately, but with murderous precision, every shot of
-his piece telling on the hull of one of the British cruizers, “huzza for
-Carolina!”
-
-“Here comes the broadside of Sir Peter’s two-decker,” shouted another
-one, “make way for the British iron among the palmetto logs. Ha! old
-yellow breeches how d’ye like that?” he continued as the shot from his
-piece, struck the quarter of the flag-ship, knocking the splinters high
-into the air, and cutting transversely through and through her crowded
-decks.
-
-Meanwhile the three men-of-war attempting to cut off our communications,
-had got entangled among the shoals to our right, and now lay utterly
-helpless, engaged in attempting to get afloat, and unable to fire a gun.
-Directly two of them ran afoul, carrying away the bowsprit of the
-smaller one.
-
-“Huzza!” shouted the old bruiser again, squinting a moment in that
-direction, “they’re smashing each other to pieces there without our
-help, and so here goes at smashing their messmates in front here—what
-the devil,” he continued, turning smartly around to cuff a powder boy,
-“what are you gaping up stream for, when you should be waiting on
-me?—take that you varmint, and see if you can do as neat a thing as
-this when you’re old enough to point a gun. By the Lord Harry I’ve cut
-away that fore-top-mast as clean as a whistle.”
-
-Meantime the conflict waxed hotter and hotter, and through the long
-summer afternoon, except during an interval when we slackened it for
-want of powder, our brave fellows, with the coolness of veterans, and
-the enthusiasm of youth, kept up their fire. A patriotic ardor burned
-along our lines, which only became more resistless, as the wounded were
-carried past in the arms of their comrades. The contest was at its
-height when General Lee arrived from the mainland to offer to remove us
-if we wished to abandon our perilous position.
-
-“Abandon our position, General!” said Colonel Moultrie, “will your
-excellency but visit the guns, and ask the men whether they will give up
-the fort? No, we will die or conquer here.”
-
-The eye of the Commander-in-Chief flashed proudly at this reply, and
-stepping out upon the plain, he approached a party who were firing with
-terrible precision upon the British fleet. This fearless exposure of his
-person called forth a cheer from the men; but without giving him time to
-remain long in so dangerous a position, Colonel Moultrie exclaimed,
-
-“My brave fellows, the general has come off to offer to remove you to
-the main if you are tired of your post. Shall it be?”
-
-There was a universal negative, every man declaring he would sooner die
-at his gun. It was a noble sight. Their eyes flashing; their chests
-dilated; their brawny arms bared and covered with smoke, they stood
-there, determined, to a man, to save their native soil at every cost,
-from invasion. At this moment a group appeared, carrying a poor fellow,
-whom it could be seen at a glance was mortally wounded. His lips were
-blue; his countenance ghastly; and his dim eye rolled uneasily about. He
-breathed heavily. But as he approached us, the shouts of his fellow
-soldiers falling on his ear, aroused his dying faculties, and lifting
-himself heavily up, his eye, after wandering inquiringly about, caught
-the sight of his general.
-
-“God bless you! my poor fellow,” said Lee, compassionately, “you are, I
-fear, seriously hurt.”
-
-The dying man looked at him as if not comprehending his remark, and then
-fixing his eye upon his general, said faintly,
-
-“Did not some one talk of abandoning the fort?”
-
-“Yes,” answered Lee, “I offered to remove you or let you fight it
-out—but I see you brave fellows would rather die than retreat.”
-
-“Die!” said the wounded man, raising himself half upright, with sudden
-strength, while his eye gleamed with a brighter lustre than even in
-health. “I thank my God that I am dying, if we can only beat the British
-back. Die! I have no family, and my life is well given for the freedom
-of my country. No, my men, never retreat,” he continued, turning to his
-fellow soldiers, and waving his arm around his head, “huzza for
-li—i—ber—ty—huz—za—a—a,” and as the word died away, quivering in
-his throat, he fell back, a twitch passed over his face, and he was
-dead.
-
-Need I detail the rest of that bloody day? For nine hours, without
-intermission, the cannonade was continued with a rapidity on the part of
-our foes, and a murderous precision on that of ourselves, such as I have
-never since seen equalled. Night did not terminate the conflict. The
-long afternoon wore away; the sun went down; the twilight came and
-vanished; darkness reigned over the distant shores around us, yet the
-flash of the guns, and the roar of the explosions did not cease. As the
-evening grew more obscure the whole horizon became illuminated by the
-fire of our batteries, and the long, meteor-like tracks of the shells
-through the sky. The crash of spars; the shouts of the men; and the
-thunder of the cannonade formed meanwhile a discord as terrible as it
-was exciting; while the lights flashing along the bay, and twinkling
-from our encampment at Haddrell’s Point, made the scene even
-picturesque.
-
-Long was the conflict, and desperately did our enemies struggle to
-maintain their posts. Even when the cable of the flag-ship had been cut
-away, and swinging around with her stern toward us, every shot from our
-battery was enabled to traverse the whole length of her decks, amid
-terrific slaughter, she did not display a sign of fear, but doggedly
-maintained her position, keeping up a straggling fire upon us, for some
-time, from such of her guns as could be brought to bear. At length,
-however, a new cable was rigged upon her, and swinging around broadside
-on, she resumed her fire. But it was in vain. Had they fought till
-doomsday they could not have overcome the indomitable courage of men
-warring for their lives and liberties; and finding that our fire only
-grew more deadly at every discharge, Sir Peter Parker at length made the
-signal to retire. One of the frigates farther in the bay had grounded,
-however, so firmly on the shoals that she could not be got off; and when
-she was abandoned and fired next morning, our brave fellows, despite the
-flames wreathing already around her, boarded her, and fired at the
-retreating squadron until it was out of range. They had not finally
-deserted her more than a quarter of an hour before she blew up with a
-stunning shock.
-
-The rejoicing among the inhabitants after this signal victory were long
-and joyous. We were thanked; feted; and became _lions_ at once. The tory
-families, among which was that of Mr. Rochester, maintained, however, a
-sullen silence. The suspicion which such conduct created made it
-scarcely advisable that I should become a constant visitor at his
-mansion, even if the cold civility of his family had not, as I have
-stated before, furnished other obstacles to my seeing Beatrice. Mr.
-Rochester, it is true, had thanked me for the services I had rendered
-his ward, but he had done so in a manner frigid and reserved to the last
-degree, closing his expression of gratitude with an offer of pecuniary
-recompense, which not only made the blood tingle in my veins, but
-detracted from the value of what little he had said.
-
-A fortnight had now elapsed since I had seen Beatrice, and I was still
-delayed at Charleston, waiting for a passage to the north, and arranging
-the proceeds of our prize, when I received an invitation to a ball at
-the house of one of the leaders of ton, who affecting a neutrality in
-politics, issued cards indiscriminately to both parties. Feeling a
-presentiment that Beatrice would be there, and doubtless unaccompanied
-by her uncle or cousin, I determined to go, and seek an opportunity to
-bid her farewell, unobserved, before my departure.
-
-The rooms were crowded to excess. All that taste could suggest, or
-wealth afford, had been called into requisition to increase the splendor
-of the _fete_. Rich chandeliers; sumptuous ottomans; flowers of every
-hue; and an array of loveliness such as I have rarely seen equalled,
-made the lofty apartments almost a fairy palace. But amid that throng of
-beauty there was but one form which attracted my eye. It was that of
-Beatrice. She was surrounded by a crowd of admirers, and I felt a pang
-of almost jealousy, when I saw her, as I thought, smiling as gaily as
-the most thoughtless beauty present. But as I drew nearer I noticed
-that, amid all her affected gaiety, a sadness would momentarily steal
-over her fine countenance, like a cloud flitting over a sunny summer
-landscape. As I edged toward her through the crowd, her eye caught mine,
-and in an instant lighted up with a joyousness that was no longer
-assumed. I felt repaid, amply repaid by that one glance, for all the
-doubts I had suffered during the past fortnight; but the formalities of
-etiquette prevented me from doing aught except to return an answering
-glance, and solicit the hand of Beatrice.
-
-“Oh! why have you been absent so long?” said the dear girl, after the
-dance had been concluded, and we had sauntered together, as if
-involuntarily, into a conservatory behind the ball room, “every one is
-talking of your conduct at the fort—do you know I too am a rebel—and
-_do_ you then sail for the north?”
-
-“Yes, dearest,” I replied, “and I have sought you to-night to bid you
-adieu for months—it may be for years. God only knows, Beatrice,” and I
-pressed her hand against my heart, “when we shall meet again. Perhaps
-you may not even hear from me; the war will doubtless cut off the
-communications; and sweet one, say will you still love me, though others
-may be willing to say that I have forgotten you?”
-
-“Oh! how can you ask me? But you—will—write—won’t you?” and she
-lifted those deep, dark, liquid eyes to mine, gazing confidingly upon
-me, until my soul swam in ecstacy. My best answer was a renewed pressure
-of that small, fair hand.
-
-“And Beatrice,” said I, venturing upon a topic, to which I had never yet
-alluded, “if they seek to wed you to another will you—you still be mine
-only?”
-
-“How can you ask so cruel a question?” was the answer, in a tone so low
-and sweet, yet half reproachful, that no ear but that of a lover could
-have heard it. “Oh! you know better—you know,” she added, with energy,
-“that they have already planned a marriage between me and my cousin; but
-never, never can I consent to wed where my heart goes not with my hand.
-And now you know all,” she said tearfully, “and though they may forbid
-me to think of you, yet I can never forget the past. No, believe me,
-Beatrice Derwent where once she has plighted her faith, will never
-afterward betray it,” and overcome by her emotions, the fair girl leaned
-upon my shoulder and wept long and freely.
-
-But I will not protract the scene. Anew we exchanged our protestations
-of love, and after waiting until Beatrice had grown composed we returned
-to the ball room. Under the plea of illness I saw her soon depart, nor
-was I long in following. No one, however, had noticed our absence. Her
-haughty uncle, in his luxurious library, little suspected the scene that
-had that night occurred. But his conduct, I felt, had exonerated me from
-every obligation to him, and I determined to win his ward, if fortune
-favored me, in despite of his opposition. My honor was no longer
-concerned against me: I felt free to act as I chose.
-
-The British fleet meanwhile, having been seen no more upon the coast,
-the communication with the north, by sea, became easy again. New York,
-however, was in the possession of the enemy, and a squadron was daily
-expected at the mouth of Delaware Bay. To neither of these ports,
-consequently, could I obtain a passage. Nor indeed did I wish it. There
-was no possibility that the Fire-Fly would enter, either, to re-victual,
-and as I was anxious to join her, it was useless to waste time in a port
-where she could not enter. Newport held out the only chance to me for
-rejoining my vessel. It was but a day’s travel from thence to Boston,
-and at one or the other of these places I felt confident the Fire-Fly
-would appear before winter.
-
-The very day, however, after seeing Beatrice, I obtained a passage in a
-brig, which had been bound to another port, but whose destination the
-owners had changed to Newport, almost on the eve of sailing. I instantly
-made arrangements for embarking in her, having already disposed of our
-prize, and invested the money in a manner which I knew would allow it to
-be distributed among the crew of the Fire-Fly at the earliest
-opportunity. My parting with Col. Moultrie was like parting from a
-father. He gave me his blessing; I carried my kit on board; and before
-forty-eight hours I was once more at sea.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- THE DREAM OF THE DELAWARE.
-
-
- “Sleep hath its own world,
- And a wide realm of wild reality,
- And dreams in their development have breath,
- And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy.”
-
- On Alligewi’s[1] mountain height
- An Indian hunter lay reclining,
- Gazing upon the sunset light
- In all its loveliest grace declining.
- Onward the chase he had since dawn
- Pursued, with swift-winged step, o’er lawn,
- And pine-clad steep, and winding dell,
- And deep ravine, and covert nook
- Wherein the red-deer loves to dwell,
- And silent cove, and brawling brook;
- Yet not till twilight’s mists descending,
- Had dimmed the wooded vales below,
- Did he, his homeward pathway wending,
- Droop ’neath his spoil, with footsteps slow.
- Then, as he breathless paused, and faint,
- The shout of joy that pealed on high
- As broke that landscape on his eye,
- Imaginings alone can paint.
-
- Down on the granite brow, his prey,
- In all its antlered glory lay.
- His plumage flowed above the spoil—
- His quiver, and the slackened bow,
- Companions of his ceaseless toil,
- Lay careless at its side below.
-
- Oh! who might gaze, and not grow brighter,
- More pure, more holy, and serene;
- Who might not feel existence lighter
- Beneath the power of such a scene?
- Marking the blush of light ascending
- From where the sun had set afar,
- Tinting each fleecy cloud, and blending
- With the pale azure; while each star
- Came smiling forth ’mid roseate hue,
- And deepened into brighter lustre
- As Night, with shadowy fingers threw
- Her dusky mantle round each cluster.
- Purple, and floods of gold, were streaming
- Around the sunset’s crimson way,
- And all the impassioned west was gleaming
- With the rich flush of dying day.
- Far, far below the wandering sight,
- Seen through the gath’ring gloom of night,
- A mighty river rushing on,
- Seemed dwindled to a fairy’s zone.
- No bark upon its wave was seen,
- Or if ’twas there, it glided by
- As viewless forms, that once have been,
- Will flit, half-seen, before the eye.
-
- Long gazed the hunter on that sight,
- ’Till twilight darkened into night,
- Dim and more dim the landscape grew,
- And duskier was the empyrean blue;
- Glittered a thousand stars on high,
- And wailed the night-wind sadly by;
- And slowly fading, one by one,
- Cliff, cloud, ravine, and mountain pass
- Grew darker still, and yet more dun,
- ’Till deep’ning to a shadowy mass,
- They seemed to mingle, earth and sky,
- In one wild, weird-like canopy.
-
- Yet lo! that hunter starts, and one
- Whom it were heaven to gaze upon,
- A beauteous girl,—as ’twere a fawn,
- So playful, wild, and gentle too,—
- Came bounding o’er the shadowy lawn,
- With step as light, and love as true.
- It was Echucha! she, his bride,
- Dearer than all of earth beside,—
- For she had left her sire’s far home,
- The woodland depths with him to roam
- Who was that sire’s embittered foe!
- And there, in loveliness alone,
- With him her opening beauty shone.
- But even while he gazed, that form,
- As fades the lightning in the storm,
- Passed quickly from his sight.
- He looked again, no one was there,
- No voice was on the stilly air,
- No step upon the greensward fair,
- But all around was night.
-
- She past, but thro’ that hunter’s mind,
- What wild’ring memories are rushing,
- As harps, beneath a summer wind,
- With wild, mysterious lays are gushing.
-
- Fast came rememb’rance of that eve,
- Whose first wild throb of earthly bliss
- Was but to gaze, and to receive
- The boon of hope so vast as this—
- To clasp that being as his own,
- To win her from her native bowers;
- And form a spirit-land, alone
- With her amid perennial flowers.
- And as he thought, that dark, deep eye,
- Seemed hovering as ’twas wont to bless,
- When the soft hand would on him lie,
- And sooth his soul to happiness.
-
- Like the far-off stream, in its murmurings low,
- Like the first warm breath of spring,
- Like the Wickolis in its plaintive flow,
- Or the ring-dove’s fluttering wing,
- Came swelling along the balmy air,
- As if a spirit itself was there,
- So sweet, so soft, so rich a strain,
- It might not bless the ear again,
- Now breathed afar, now swelling near,
- It gushed on the enraptured ear;—
- And hark! was it her well-known tone?
- No—naught is heard but the voice alone.
-
- “Warrior of the Lenape race,
- Thou of the oak that cannot bend,
- Of noble brow and stately grace,
- And agile step, of the Tamenend,
- Arise—come thou with me!
-
- Echucha waits in silent glade,
- Her eyes the eagle’s gaze assume,
- As daylight’s golden glories fade,
- To catch afar her hunter’s plume,—
- But naught, naught can she see.
-
- Her hair is decked with ocean shell,
- The vermeil bright is on her brow,
- The peag zone enclasps her well,
- Her heart is sad beneath it now,
- She weeps, and weeps for thee.
-
- With early dawn thou hiedst away,
- In reckless sports the hours to while,
- Oh! sweet as flowers, in moonlit ray,
- Shall be thy look, thy voice, thy smile,
- When again she looks on thee!
- Oh! come, come then with me.”
-
- Scarce ceased the strain, when silence deep,
- As broods o’er an unbroken sleep,
- Seemed hovering round; then slowly came
- A glow athwart the darkling night,
- Bursting at length to mid-day flame,
- And bathing hill and vale in light.
- While suddenly a form flits by
- With step as fleet, as through the sky
- The morning songster skims along
- Preceded by his matchless song.
- So glided she; yet not unseen
- Her graceful gait, her brow serene,
- Her finely modelled limbs so round,
- Her raven tresses all unbound,
- That flashing out, and hidden now,
- Waved darkly on each snowy shoulder,—
- As springing from the mountain’s brow,
- Eager and wild that one to know,
- The hunter hurried to behold her.
-
- On, on the beauteous phantom glides
- Beneath the sombre, giant pines
- That stud the steep and rugged sides
- Of pendant cliffs, and deep ravines;
- Down many a wild descent and dell
- O’ergrown with twisted lichens rude;
- Yet where she passed a halo fell
- To guide the footsteps that pursued,—
- Like that fell wonder of the sky
- That flashes o’er the starry space,
- And leaves its glitt’ring wake on high,
- For man portentous truths to trace.
- And onward, onward still that light
- Was all which beamed upon the sight.
- Of figure he could naught descry,
- Invisible it seemed to fly;
- Alluring on with magic art
- That half disclosing, hid in part.
-
- Bright, beautiful, resistless Fate!
- Oh! what is like thy magic will,
- Which men in blind obedience wait,
- Yet deem themselves unfettered still!
- By thee impelled that hunter sped
- Through shadowy wood, o’er flowery bed;
- When angels else, beneath his eye,
- Had passed unseen, unnoticed by.
-
- The Indian brave! that stoic wild,
- Philosophy’s untutored child,
- A being, such as wisdom’s torch
- Enkindled ’neath the attic porch,
- Where the Phoenician stern and eld,
- His wise man[2] to the world revealing,
- Divined not western wildness held
- Untutored ones less swayed by feeling;
- Whose firm endurance fire nor stake
- Nor torture’s fiercest pangs might shake.
- Yes! matter, mind, the eternal whole,
- In apprehension revelling free,
- Evolved that fearlessness of soul
- Which Greece[3] saw but in theory.
-
- Still on that beauteous phantom fled,
- And still behind the hunter sped.
- Nor turned she ’till where many a rock
- Lay rent as by an earthquake’s shock,
- And through the midst a stream its way
- Held on ’mid showers of falling spray,
- Marking by one long line of foam
- Its passage from its mountain home.
-
- But now, amid the light mist glancing
- Like elf or water-nymph, the maid
- With ravishment of form entrancing
- The spell-bound gazer, stood displayed.
- So looked that Grecian maiden’s face,
- So every grace and movement shone,
- When ’neath the sculptor’s wild embrace,
- Life, love, and rapture flushed from stone.
- She paused, as if her path to trace
- Through the thick mist that boiled on high,
- Then turning full her unseen face,
- There, there, the same, that lustrous eye,
- So fawn-like in its glance and hue
- As when he first had met its ray,
- Echucha’s self, revealed to view—
- She smiled, and shadowy sank away.
-
- Again ’twas dawn: that hunter’s gaze
- Was wand’ring o’er a wide expanse
- Of inland lake, half hid in haze
- That waved beneath the morning’s glance.
- The circling wood, so still and deep
- Its sombre hush, seemed yet asleep;
- Save when at intervals from tree
- A lone bird woke its minstrelsy,
- Or flitting off from spray to spray
- ’Mid glittering dew pursued its way.
- When lo! upon the list’ning ear
- The rustling of a distant tread,
- That pausing oft drew ever near
- A causeless apprehension spread.
- And from a nook, a snow-white Hind
- Came bounding—beauteous of its kind!—
- Seeking the silver pebbled strand
- Within the tide her feet to lave,
- E’re noonday’s sun should wave his wand
- Of fire across the burnished wave.
-
- Never hath mortal eye e’er seen
- Such fair proportion blent with grace;
- A creature with so sweet a mien
- Might only find its flitting place
- In that bright land far, far away
- Where Indian hunters, legends say,
- Pursue the all-enduring chase.
- The beautifully tapered head,
- The slender ear, the eye so bright,
- The curving neck, the agile tread,
- The strength, the eloquence, the flight
- Of limbs tenuitively small,
- Seemed imaged forth, a thing of light
- Springing at Nature’s magic call.
-
- The sparkling surge broke at her feet,
- Rippling upon the pebbly brink,
- As gracefully its waters sweet
- She curved her glossy neck to drink.
- Yet scarce she tasted, ere she gazed
- Wildly around like one amazed,
- With head erect, and eye of fear,
- And trembling, quick-extended ear.
-
- Still as the serpent’s hushed advance,
- The hunter, with unmoving glance,
- Wound on to where a beech-tree lay
- Half buried in the snowy sand:
- He crouches ’neath its sapless spray
- To nerve his never-failing hand.
- A whiz—a start—her rolling eye
- Hath caught the danger lurking nigh.
- She flies, but only for a space;
- Then turns with sad reproachful face;
- Then rallying forth her wonted strength,
- She backward threw her matchless head,
- Flung on the wind her tap’ring length,
- And onward swift and swifter sped,—
- O’er sward, and plain, and snowy strand,
- By mossy rocks, through forests grand,
- Which there for centuries had stood
- Rustling in their wild solitude.
-
- On, on, in that unwearied chase
- With tireless speed imbued,
- Went sweeping with an eldrich pace
- Pursuing and pursued!
- ’Till, as the sinking orb of day,
- Glowed brighter with each dying ray,
- The fleetness of that form was lost,
- Dark drops of blood her pathway crost,
- And faint and fainter drooped that head,—
- She falters—sinks—one effort more—
- ’Tis vain—her noontide strength has fled—
- She falls upon the shore.
-
- One eager bound—the Hunter’s knife
- Sank deep to end her struggling life;
- Yet, e’en as flashed the murd’rous blade,
- There came a shrill and plaintive cry:
- The Hind was not—a beauteous maid
- Lay gasping with upbraiding eye.
- The glossy head and neck were gone,
- The snowy furs that clasped her round;
- And in their place the peag zone,
- And raven hair that all unbound
- Upon her heaving bosom lies
- And mingles with the rushing gore,
- The sandaled foot, the fawn-like eyes;
- All, all are there—he needs no more—
- “Echucha—ha!” The dream hath passed;
- Cold clammy drops were thick and fast
- Upon the awakened warrior’s brow,
- And the wild eye that flashed around
- To penetrate the dark profound,
- Seemed fired with Frenzy’s glow.
- Yet all was still, while far above,
- Nestling in calm and holy love,
- The watchful stars intensely bright
- Gleamed meekly through the moonless night.
-
- The Hunter gazed,—and from his brow
- Passed slowly off that fevered glow,
- For what the troubled soul can bless
- Like such a scene of loveliness?
- He raised his quiver from his side,
- And downward with his antlered prey,
- To meet his lone Ojibway bride,
- He gaily took his joyous way.
- A. F. H.
-
------
-
-[1] The Alleghany.
-
-[2] Zeno imagined his wise man, not only free from all sense of
-pleasure, but void of all passions, and emotions capable of being happy
-in the midst of torture.
-
-[3] The stoics were philosophers, rather in words than in deeds.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- MY GRANDMOTHER’S TANKARD.
-
-
- BY JESSE E. DOW.
-
-
-My grandmother was one of the old school. She was a fine, portly built
-old lady, with a smart laced cap. She hated snuff and spectacles, and
-never lost her scissors, because she always kept them fastened to her
-side by a silver chain. As for scandal she never indulged in its use,
-believing, as she said, that truth was stranger than fiction and twice
-as cutting.
-
-My grandmother had a penchant for old times and old things, she
-delighted to dwell upon the history of the past, and once a year on the
-day of thanksgiving and prayer, she appeared in all the glories of a
-departed age. Her head bore an enormous cushion—her waist was doubly
-fortified with a stomacher of whale-bone and brocade. Her skirt spread
-out its ample folds of brocade and embroidery below, flanked by two
-enormous pockets. Her well-turned ankles were covered with blue worsted
-stockings, with scarlet clocks, and her underpinning was completed by a
-pair of high quartered russet shoes mounted upon a couple of extravagant
-red heels. When the hour for service drew near, she added a high bonnet
-of antique form, made of black satin, and a long red cloak of narrow
-dimensions. Thus clothed, as she ascended the long slope that led to the
-old Presbyterian meeting house, she appeared like a British grenadier
-with his arms shot off, going to the pay office for his pension.
-
-Her memory improved by age, for she doubtless recollected some things
-which never happened, and her powers of description were equal to those
-of Sir Walter Scott’s old crone, whose wild legends awoke the master’s
-mind to a sense of its own high powers.
-
-My grandmother came through the revolution a buxom dame, and her legends
-of cow boys and tories, of white washed chimnies and tar and
-featherings, of battles by sea, and of “skrimmages,” as she termed them,
-by land, would have filled a volume as large as Fox’s book of the
-Martyrs, and made in the language of the day a far more _readable work_.
-
-I was her pet—her auditor: I knew when to smile, and when to look
-grave—when to approach her, and when to retire from her presence; her
-pocket was my paradise, and her old cup-board my seventh heaven.
-
-Many a red streaked apple and twisted doughnut have I munched from the
-former,—and many a Pisgah glimpse have I had of the bright pewter and
-brighter silver that garnished the latter. Among the old lady’s silver
-was a venerable massive tankard that had come down from the early
-settlers of Quinapiack, and she prized it far above many weightier and
-more useful vessels. This relic always attracted my notice—a coat of
-arms was pictured upon one side of it, and underneath it the family name
-in old English letters, stood out like letters upon an iron sign. It was
-of London manufacture, and must have been in use long before the
-Pilgrims sailed for Plymouth. It had, doubtless, been drained by
-cavaliers and roundheads in the sea girt isle,
-
- “Ere the May flower lay
- In the stormy bay,
- And rocked by a barren shore.”
-
-The history of this venerable relic was my grandmother’s hobby, and as
-she is no longer with us to relate the story herself, I will hand it
-down in print, that posterity, if so disposed, may know something also
-of
-
-
- MY GRANDMOTHER’S TANKARD.
-
-In the year 1636, a company of fighting men from the Massachusetts
-colony, pursued a party of Pequots to the borders of a swamp in the
-present county of Fairfield, in Connecticut, and destroyed them by fire.
-
-The soldiers on their return to the colony spoke in rapture of a goodly
-land through which they passed in the south country, bordering upon a
-river and bay, called by the Indians Quinapiack, and by the Dutch the
-Vale of the Red Rocks.
-
-In the year 1637, the New Haven company, beaten out by the toils and
-privations of a long and boisterous voyage across the Atlantic, landed
-at the mouth of the Charles River, and continued for a season inactive
-in the pleasant tabernacles of the early pilgrims. Hearing of the fair
-and goodly land beyond the Connectiquet, or Long River, and disliking
-the sterile shores of Massachusetts bay, the newly arrived company sent
-spies into the land to view the second Canaan, and bring them a true
-report.
-
-In 1638, having received a favorable account from the pioneers, the
-company embarked, and sailed for that fair land, and at the close of the
-tenth day the Red Rocks appeared frowning grimly against the western
-horizon, and the Quinapiack spread out its silver bosom to receive them.
-The vessel that brought the colony, landed them on the eastern shore of
-a little creek now filled up and called the meadows, about twenty rods
-from the corner of College and George streets, in New Haven, and
-directly opposite to the famous old oak, under whose broad branches Mr.
-Davenport preached his first sermon to the settlers, “Upon the
-Temptations of the Wilderness.” Time, that rude old gentleman, has
-wrought many changes in the harbor of Quinapiack since the days of the
-pilgrims; and a regiment of purple cabbages are now growing where the
-adventurers’ bark rested her wave-worn keel.
-
-In 1638, having laid out a city of nine squares, the company met in
-Newman’s barn, and formed their constitution. At this meeting it was
-ordered that the laws of Moses should govern the colony until the elders
-had time to make better ones.
-
-Theophilus Eaton, Esq. was chosen the first governor: and the whole
-power of the people was vested in the governor, Mr. Davenport, the
-minister, his deacon, and the seven pillars of the church of Quinapiack.
-Here was church and state with a vengeance, and the pilgrims who sought
-freedom to worship God found freedom to worship him as they pleased,
-provided they worshipped him _as Mr. Davenport_ directed.
-
-The seven pillars of the church were wealthy laymen, and were its
-principal support; among the number I find the names of those staunch
-old colonists, Matthew Gilbert and John Panderson.
-
-Governor Eaton was an eminent merchant in London, and when he arrived at
-Quinapiack, his ledger was transformed into a book of records for the
-colony. It is now to be seen with his accounts in one end of it, and the
-records in the other. The principal settlers of New Haven were rich
-London merchants. They brought with them great wealth, and calculated in
-the new world to engage in commerce, free from the trammels that clogged
-them in England. They could not be contented with the old colony
-location. They now found a beautiful harbor—a fine country—and a broad
-river: but no trade. Where all were sellers there could be no buyers.
-They had stores but no customers: ships but no Wapping: and they soon
-began to sigh for merry England, and the wharves of crowded marts. In
-three years after landing at New Haven, a large number of these settlers
-determined to return to their native land.
-
-Accordingly a vessel was purchased in Rhode Island, a crazy old tub of a
-thing that bade fair to sail as fast broadside on as any way, whose
-sails were rotten with age, and whose timbers were pierced by the worms
-of years. Having brought the vessel round to New Haven, the colonists,
-under the direction of the old ship master Lamberton, repaired and
-fitted her for sea.
-
-The day before Captain Lamberton intended to sail, Eugene Foster, the
-son of a wealthy merchant in London, and Grace Gilman, the daughter of
-one of the wealthy worthies of Quinapiack, wandered out of the
-settlement and ascended the East Rock.
-
-Grace Gilman was the niece of my great, great grandmother. Possessing a
-brilliant mind, a lovely countenance, and a form of perfect symmetry,
-she occupied no small share of every single gentleman’s mind asleep or
-awake, in the colony. Her dark hair hung in ringlets about a neck of
-alabaster, and sheltered with smaller curls a cheek where the lily and
-the rose held sweet communion together.
-
-Foster had followed the object of his love to her western home, and
-having gained Elder Gilman’s consent to his union with the flower of
-Quinapiack, he was now ready to return in the vessel to his native land,
-for the purpose of preparing for a speedy settlement in the colony.
-
-Eugene Foster was a noble, spirited youth, of high literary attainments.
-Besides his frequent excursions with the scouts, had made him an
-experienced woodman and hunter. His countenance was pleasant; his eye
-possessed the fire of genius; and his form was tall and commanding.
-
-It was a glorious morning in autumn. The whole space around the
-settlement was one vast forest, and the frost had tipped the leaves of
-the trees with russet crimson and gold. The bare sumac lifted its red
-core on high, and the crab apple hung its bright fruit over every crag.
-The maple shook its blood-colored leaves around, and the chesnut and
-walnut came pattering down from their lofty heights, like hail from a
-summer cloud. The heath hens sate drumming the morning away upon the
-mouldering trunks, whose tops had waved above the giants of the forest
-in former ages. The grey squirrel sprang from limb to limb. The flying
-squirrel sailed from tree to tree in his downward flight; and the
-growling wild cat glided swiftly down the vistas of the wood with her
-shrieking prey.
-
-The blue jay piped all hands from the deep woods—and the hawk, as he
-sailed over the partridge’s brood, shrieked the wild death cry of the
-air. A haze rested upon the distant heights, and a cloud of mellow light
-rolled over the little settlement, and faded into silver upon the broad
-sound that stretched out before it.
-
-It was nearly noon when the lovers—whose conversation on such an
-occasion I must leave the reader to imagine—turned from the enchanting
-prospect, which at this day exceeds any thing in America—to return to
-the settlement. Two Indians, of the Narragansett tribe, now bounded from
-the thicket, and before Foster could bring his musketoon to its
-rest—for he always went armed—they levelled him to the earth. A green
-withe was speedily twined around his arms, and he was apparently as
-powerless as a child. Grace sprang to a little path that led to the
-parapet of the bluff and screamed for help; that scream was her
-salvation, for the Indian who was binding Foster’s hands, left the withe
-loose, and sprang toward her. In a moment the rude hand of the red-man
-rested heavily upon her shoulder, and his grim look sent the blood
-tingling from her cheeks. Another withe was speedily passed around her
-arms, and then the two Narragansetts seated themselves to make a hurdle
-to bear the pale faced maiden away. As they were busily engaged Grace
-heard a whisper behind her. She turned her head half round—Foster, by
-great exertions, had got loose from his withe, and was crawling slowly
-toward his musketoon.
-
-The Narragansetts, suspecting nothing, were sitting behind a little
-clump of sassafras, and nothing but their brawny chests could be seen
-through a small bend in the trunks of the trees that composed the
-thicket.
-
-Stealthily crept the experienced Foster to the tree where his musketoon
-rested. Not a crackling twig, nor rustling leaf, gave the slightest
-evidence of his movements. The Indians spoke in their own wild gutterals
-of the beauty of the pale-faced squaw, and chuckled with delight at the
-speedy prospect of roasting the young long knife by Philip’s council
-fire.
-
-The musketoon was just as he had left it: not a grain of powder had left
-the pan,—the match burned brightly at the butt, and every thing seemed
-to be as effective as possible. Foster seized it and motioned to Grace
-to stoop her head, so as to give him a chance to bring the red men in a
-range through the opening in the thicket.
-
-Grace bent her head to the ground, while her heart beat with fearful
-anticipation. The young pilgrim aimed his deadly weapon, as a fine
-opportunity presented itself. The two savages were sitting cross-legged,
-side by side, and their brawny breasts were seen, one bending slightly
-before the other. Foster aimed so as to give each a fair proportion of
-slugs—for he had a charge for a panther in his barrel—and fired. A
-loud report rang down the aisles of the forest, and rattled in echoes
-over the settlement, while the two Indians bounded up with a fearful
-yell, and fell dead upon the half-made hurdle. Foster sprang to the side
-of Grace, and casting loose the withe that confined her swollen arms,
-bore her over the bodies of the Narragansetts, whose horrid scowls never
-were forgotten by the affrighted maid.
-
-A war-whoop now rang in the usual pathway to the settlement, and Foster
-saw that he must take a shorter cut or die. Grace had fainted, and every
-thing depended upon his manliness and strength. He therefore approached
-the brink of the precipice. A wild grape vine, that had grown there
-since the morning of time, for aught he knew, extended far up the
-perpendicular rock, from a crag below. He bound the fair girl to his
-breast with his neckcloth and shot-belt, and grasping the stem of the
-vine, descended. As he slipped down, the vine began to yield, and just
-as his foot touched the narrow crag, the whole vine, with a mass of
-loose earth and stones, gave way with a tremendous crash, and hung, from
-the crevice where he stood, like a feather quivering beneath his feet.
-Foster was for a moment dizzy, but he cast his eyes upward, and beheld
-the eyes of an Indian glaring upon him from the top of the rock. He was
-nerved in a moment: and seeing a ledge a foot and a half broad, beyond a
-fissure, about eight feet over, and very deep, he determined to spring
-for it. Grace Gilman, however, was a dead weight to the young man, and
-he feared the result. The ledge seemed to run at an angle of forty-five
-degrees along the front of the rock, to a side hill, formed by fallen
-rocks and earth. A wild vine hung down over the fissure, covered with
-tempting fruit. He reached out his hand and grasped the main stem as it
-waved in the breeze,—it was strong, and its roots seemed firmly
-imbedded in a crevice above him. Commending himself to that Creator
-whose tireless eye takes in at a glance his creatures, he made his leap!
-The damp wind from the fissure rushed by his ears; the vine cracked and
-rustled above him; rich clusters of luscious fruit came tumbling upon
-his head; and the birds of night came shrieking out from their dark
-shelters in the fissure as he swung past. Foster, however, did not
-waver, his foot struck the ledge and he leaned forward; the vine flew
-back like a pendulum as he let it go, and he slid down the smooth ridge
-of the ledge in safety. In a short time he brought up against a heap of
-earth that had fallen from the mountain top, and springing up, bounded
-like the chamois hunter from crag to crag, until he stood upon the broad
-bottom, without a bruise or a scratch upon himself or his fair charge.
-In twenty minutes the young pilgrim entered the settlement by the forest
-way, with the almost lifeless form of his beloved buckled to his breast,
-while savage yells of disappointment came down from the summit of the
-East Rock, and caused the young mothers of Quinapiack to press their
-startled babes closer to their trembling hearts.
-
-None had dared to follow the adventurous pilgrim’s course down the
-mountain’s perpendicular side: and the ledges that jut out like faint
-shadows from the bluff, are called Foster’s Stepping Stone by those who
-know the incident to this day.
-
-The report of the musketoon was heard in the settlement. The soldiers of
-the colony stood to their arms, and when Foster had made his report,
-several strong parties went out upon a scout; but it was of no use;
-drops of blood only were discovered sprinkled upon the sassafras-leaves,
-and a heavy trail leading toward the Long River. The fighting men of
-Quinapiack, after a weary march, gave up the pursuit of the
-Narragansetts, and returned leisurely to the settlement. Night now
-settled like a raven upon the land—the drums beat to prayers—one by
-one the lights went out in the cottages of the pilgrims; and as the
-watch-fire sent forth its ruddy blaze from the common—now the college
-green—the colony slumbered in sweet forgetfulness, or wandered in
-visions amid the scenes of their childhood by the broad Shannon or the
-silver Ayr.
-
-Who can tell the strange thoughts that agitated the sleepers’ souls? The
-old men, had they no pleasures of memory? The young men and the maidens,
-had they no dreams of joy—no bright pictures of trysting trees and
-lovely glens where the white lady moved in her noiseless path, or the
-fairies danced on the moonlight sward? Had the politician no dream of
-departed power? No sigh for his rapid fall? Had the soldier no dream of
-glory—no sound of stirring bugles melting upon his ear? Had the
-minister of God no dream of greatness—when before the kings and princes
-of the world he stood? and like Nathan of old said in Christ-like
-majesty to the offending monarch—
-
- “Thou art the man.”
-
- * * * * *
-
-It was sunrise at Quinapiack, and the seven pillars were no longer seven
-sleepers. Eugene Foster stood beside Grace Gilman, while the old elder
-wrestled valiantly in prayer. When the morning service was ended, and a
-substantial breakfast had been stowed away with no infant’s hand, Foster
-imprinted a kiss upon the cheek of the bashful puritan.
-
-“Farewell, Grace,” said he, “we are ready to sail. In a few months more
-the smoke shall curl from my cottage chimney, and the good people of the
-colony shall wait at the council board for good man Foster.”
-
-“Eugene,” said Grace, with eyes suffused with tears, “your time will
-pass pleasantly in England; but, oh! how long will the period of your
-absence seem in this lone outpost of civilization. Do not, then, tarry
-in the land of your fathers beyond the time necessary for accomplishing
-your business. There are many Graces in England, but there are but few
-Fosters here.”
-
-“Grace,” said Foster blushing, “there is no Grace in England like the
-Grace of Quinapiack, and he who would leave the blooming rose of the
-wilderness, for the sick lily of the hot-house, deserves not to enjoy
-the fresh blessings of Providence. The wind that blows back to the
-western continent shall fill my sails, and I will claim my bride.”
-
-The old puritan now gave the young man his blessing. Foster drew from
-his cloak fold this silver tankard,—marked, as you now see it,—[so
-said my grandmother, as she held the antique vessel up to the light,]
-and presented it to Grace as an earnest of his love. The elder, after
-seeing that it was pure silver, exclaimed against the gew-gaws, and the
-drinking measures of a carnal world, and left the room. Two hearty
-kisses were now heard, even by the domestics in the Gilman family. The
-elder entered the breakfast room in haste; Eugene bounded out of the
-door—Grace glided like a fairy up stairs, and the old tankard rested
-upon the table.
-
-After placing on board of the return ship the massive plate, and other
-valuables of the discontented merchants, those whose hearts failed them,
-embarked amid the tears and prayers of Davenport and his faithful
-associates. The sails were spread to the breeze—the old ship bowed her
-head to the foam, and dashed out of the harbor in gallant style. Grace
-watched the vessel as she departed, and when the evening came, she wept
-in her silent chamber, for her heart was sad.
-
-It was a sad day for the remaining colonists when the ship dipped her
-topsails in the southern waves. A feeling of loneliness, such as the
-traveller feels when lost in a boundless wood, seized upon them, and the
-staunchest wept for their native land, and the air was damp with tears.
-The next morning the settlement became more cheerful, for what can raise
-the drooping soul like the still glories of a New England autumn
-morning? The ship would, in all probability, return in a few months with
-necessary stores for the colonists, and then, should the company grow
-weary of the new country, they could return to their native land with
-their wives, and recount to kind friends the perils of an ocean voyage,
-and of a solitary home in a savage land.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Six long and melancholy months rolled away, and no tidings of the
-pilgrims’ ship had reached the ears of the anxious settlers of
-Quinapiack. A vessel had arrived at Plymouth after a short passage, but
-nothing had been heard of Lamberton’s bark when she sailed. A terrible
-mystery hung over the ill-filled and crazy ship. Autumn now came in its
-beauty, and still no tidings came to cheer the sinking soul, and gladden
-the heavy heart. Grace Gilman now began to pine, like the fair flower,
-whose root the worm of destruction has struck, and whose brightness
-slowly fades away. At length the good people of Quinapiack could stand
-this state of suspense no longer, and the Rev. Mr. Davenport, and his
-little flock, besought the Lord with sighs and tears, and heartfelt
-prayers to shew them the fate of their friends by a visible sign from
-heaven.
-
-Four successive Sabbaths the worthy minister strove for a revelation of
-the mystery, and on the afternoon of the last day, when silence brooded
-over the settlement; when even the barn-fowl grew silent upon his roost,
-and the well-trained dog lay watching by the old family clock, for
-sunset, and the hour of play, the cry came up from the water side,—“A
-sail! a sail!”—and the drums beat with a double note, and the gravest
-leaped for joy. The cry operated like an electric shock upon the whole
-mass of the people. The old and the young, the sick and the well, went
-out upon the shore to view the approaching stranger, and the seaman
-stood by the landing place ready to make her fast. Grace Gilman was in
-the centre of the throng, and the worthy minister, Davenport, waited
-silently by her side.
-
-There is no moment so full of interest to us as that when a vessel from
-our native land approaches us upon a distant shore. How many anxious
-hearts are waiting to rise or fall, as good or bad tidings salute their
-ears. How many watch the faces that throng the deck, and turn from
-countenance to countenance with eager look, until their eyes rest upon
-some familiar face, and their anxiety is satisfied.
-
-There are cold hearts also in such a crowd,—worldly men, who come to
-gather news. What care they for affection’s warm greeting, or the throb
-of sympathy? What know they of a sister’s love; aye! or of that deeper
-love which only exists in the breast of woman! which carried her to
-Pilate’s hall, to Calvary’s scene of blood, and to Joseph’s tomb? The
-price of cotton, of tobacco, bread-stuffs, rise of fancy stocks,
-election of a favorite candidate, or the death of a rich relative, are
-sweeter than angel whispers to their ears, and _a rise of two pence on
-corn_ is enough to fill a whole exchange with raptures.
-
-There were but few such worldlings on the landing place of Quinapiack on
-the Sabbath eve when the gallant vessel of the pilgrims approached the
-shore. Silence reigned upon the landing, and a dreadful stillness hung
-over the approaching ship. Gallantly she entered the harbor, and the
-boldest on shore trembled for her temerity in carrying such a press of
-canvass. Not a sail had she handed—not a man was aloft. Her course
-varied not—neither did the water ripple before her bows. All was now
-anxiety. A hail went forth from the land,—a moment of breathless
-curiosity passed, but no answer came. Another hail was treated with the
-same neglect. At length Mr. Davenport hailed the stranger. As the words
-slowly burst from the brazen trumpet, a bright ray of sunlight gleamed
-full upon the vessel. Her top-masts now faded into air—then the sails
-and rigging down to her courses—her ensign next rolled away upon the
-breeze, and when the East Rock sent back the last echo of the trumpet,
-the pilgrims’ ship had vanished away. A similar ship, though of much
-smaller dimensions, now appeared upon a heavy cloud that hung over Long
-Island, and faded away with the brightness of the day.
-
-“It is the promised sign,” said Mr. Davenport.
-
-“Our friends are lost at sea,” cried the multitude.
-
-“Eugene is drowned!” screamed Grace Gilman, and the crowd dispersed to
-weep alone.
-
-As the throng moved away from the water side, a maniac girl who had been
-gathering wild flowers upon the East Rock, came running in from the
-forest way, chaunting the following words to a plaintive air:—
-
- She leaves the port with swelling sails,
- And gaudy streamer flaunting free,
- She woos the gentle western gales,
- And takes her pathway o’er the sea.
- The vales go down where roses bloom—
- The hill tops follow green and fair;
- The lofty beacon sinks in gloom,
- And purpled mountains hang in air.
-
- Along she speeds with snowy wings,
- Around her breaks the foaming deep;
- The tempest thro’ her rigging sings,
- And weary eyes their vigils keep.
- Loud thunders rattle on the ear;
- Saint Elmo’s fire her yard-arms grace,
- The boldest bosom sinks in fear,
- While death stands watching face to face.
-
- Months roll, and anxious friends await
- Some tidings of the home-bound bark,
- But ah! above her hapless fate
- Mysterious shadows slumber dark.
- No tidings come from Albion’s shore
- To wild New England’s rocky lee;
- Hope sickens, dies, and all is o’er,
- The pilgrim’s bark is lost at sea.
-
- But see around yon woody isle
- A gallant vessel sweeps in pride,
- Her presence bids the mourners smile,
- And hope reviving marks the tide.
- But ah! her topsails fade away,
- Her gaudy streamer floats no more,
- A shadow flits across the bay,
- The pilgrim’s dying hope is o’er.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Upon a couch, in a little parlor in Quinapiack, surrounded by a number
-of the worthy settlers of both sexes, rested, at the close of that
-Sabbath day, Grace Gilman. Her cup of sorrow was full, and she prayed
-for the approach of the angel of death. Beside her stood the silver
-tankard, and her dim eye endeavored in vain to read the inscription.
-“Aunt Tabitha,” said the sufferer to my great great grandmother, “read
-the inscription for me.” The good aunt bent over the vessel, and read
-aloud:—
-
- “Sir JOHN FOSTER, OF LONDON,
- _MASTER OF THE ROLLS_.”
-
-And underneath, in small capitals, she read:—
-
- “Eugene Foster, to Grace Gilman, as an earnest of his love.
-
- “_An empty cup to hold our tears,_
- _A flowing bowl to drown our fears,_
- _In life or death, this cup shall be_
- _A poor remembrancer of me._”
-
-“Brother,” said Mr. Davenport, as he slowly entered the room, “why
-weepest thou? Daughter of the church, why sittest thou in sadness?
-Children of God, why shed these useless tears? Arise, and let us bless
-the Lord, for he is good, and his mercy endureth forever.”
-
-The broken-hearted girl folded her hands. The aged father bent over her
-pillow. The friends leaned upon their staves, and the minister poured
-forth his soul in unstudied prayer.
-
-A sweet strain of thrilling music now broke upon the ear,—a sound of
-gentle voices echoed in the hall,—a rustling of wings was heard
-overhead,—a faint whisper of “Eugene! Eugene! I—come—” died away on
-the sufferer’s pillow: and when the prayer was ended, the little company
-found themselves alone, watchers with the dead.
-
-Grace Gilman had breathed her last, and the betrothed of the pilgrim
-joined her lover in heaven.
-
- * * * * *
-
-The poor girl was buried agreeably to her wishes, upon the mountain
-side. The tankard became the property of her aunt Tabitha, and finally
-came to a rest in my grandmother’s cupboard. And now when the Sabbath
-evening commences, the rustic swain, as he passes the foot of the
-mountain, fancies that he sees a white figure beckoning to him from the
-cliff, and hears, amid the sighing of the woods, a low, but fearfully
-distinct whisper, saying—“Eugene! Eugene! I come!” And oft since,
-through the dim twilight of a summer’s Sabbath evening, has been seen
-the spirit-ship of the long-lost Pilgrims, ploughing her unruffled
-course through the calm waters of Quinapiack, and, when hailed,
-instantly disappearing.
-
- Washington, January, 1841.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- THE RESCUED KNIGHT.
-
-
- A TALE OF THE CRUSADES.
-
-It was starlight on Galilee. The placid lake lay at the feet, slumbering
-as calmly as an infant, with the wooded shores, and the tall cliffs
-around, reflected darkly in its surface. Scarcely a breath disturbed the
-quiet air. Occasionally a ripple would break on the shore with a low,
-measured harmony, and anon a tiny wave would glisten in the starlight,
-as a slight breeze ruffled the surface of the lake. The song of the
-fisherman was hushed; the voice of the vine-dresser had ceased on the
-shore; the cry of the eagle had died away amongst his far-off hills, and
-the silence of midnight, deep, hushed, and awe-inspiring, hung over
-Galilee.
-
-A thousand years before, and what scenes had that sea beheld! There, had
-lived Peter and his brethren; there, had our Saviour taught; upon those
-shores had his miracles been wrought; and on the broad bosom of
-Gennesserat he had walked a God. What holy memories were linked in with
-that little sea! How calm and changeless seemed its quiet depths! A
-thousand years had passed since then, and the apostles and their
-children had mouldered into dust, yet the stars still looked down on
-that placid lake unchanged, shining the same as they had done for fifty
-centuries before.
-
-On the shore of the lake, embowered in the thick woods, stood a large
-old, rambling fortified building, bearing traces of the Roman
-architecture, upon which had been engrafted a Saracenic style. It
-enclosed a garden, upon one side of which was a range of low buildings,
-dark, massy, frowning, and partly in ruins, but which bore every
-evidence of being still almost impregnable.
-
-Within this range of buildings, in a dark and noisome cell, reclined,
-upon a scanty bed of straw, a Christian knight. His face was pale and
-attenuated, but it had lost, amid all his sufferings, none of his high
-resolve. It was now the seventh day since he had lain in that loathsome
-dungeon, and the morrow’s sun was to see him die a martyr, for not
-abjuring his religion.
-
-“Yes!” he muttered to himself, “the agony will soon be over: it is but
-an hour at the most, and shall a Christian knight fear fire or torture?
-No: come when it may, death should ever be welcome to a de Guiscan; and
-how much more welcome when it brings the glories of martyrdom. But yet
-it is a fearful trial. I could fall in battle, for there a thousand eyes
-behold us, but to die alone, unheard of, with only foes around, and
-where none shall ever hear of my fate.—Oh! that indeed is bitter. Yet I
-fear not even it. Thank God!” he said, fervently kissing a cross he drew
-from his bosom, “there is a strength given to us in the hour of need,
-which bears us up against every danger.”
-
-The speaker suddenly started, ceased, and looked around. The bolt of his
-door was being withdrawn from the outside. Could it be that his jailor
-was about to visit him at this hour? Slowly the massy door swung on its
-hinges, and a burst of light, streaming into the cell, for a moment
-dazzled the eyes of the captive; but when he grew accustomed gradually
-to the glare, he started, with even greater surprise, to behold, not his
-jailor, but a maiden, richly attired in the Oriental dress. For an
-instant the young knight looked amazed, as if he beheld a being of
-another world.
-
-“Christian!” said the apparition, using the mongrel tongue, then adopted
-by both Saracens and Franks in their communications, but speaking in a
-low, sweet voice, which, melting from the maiden’s tongue, made every
-word seem musical, “do you die to-morrow?”
-
-“If God wills it,” said the young knight firmly, “but what mean
-you?—why are you here?”
-
-“I am here to save you,” said the maiden, fixing her eye upon his, “that
-is,” and she paused and blushed in embarrassment, “if you will comply
-with my conditions.”
-
-The young knight, who had eagerly started forward at the first part of
-her sentence, now recoiled, and with a firm voice, though one gentler
-than he would have used to aught less fair, exclaimed,—
-
-“And have you too been sent to tempt me? But go to those from whom you
-came, and tell them that Brian de Guiscan, will meet the stake
-rejoicing, sooner than purchase life by abjuring his God—”
-
-“You wrong—you wrong me,” hastily interposed the maiden, “I come not to
-ask you to desert your God, but to tell you that I also would be a
-Christian. Listen,—for my story must be short—my nurse was a Christian
-captive, and from her I learned to love your Saviour. I have long sought
-to learn more of your religion, and I am come now,” and again she
-blushed in embarrassment, “to free you, sir knight, if you will conduct
-me to your own land. I am the daughter of the Emir; I have stolen his
-signet, and thus obtained the keys to your cell—”
-
-“It is enough, fair princess, my more than deliverer,” said the knight
-eagerly, “gladly will I sell my life in your defence.”
-
-“Hist!” said the maiden in a whisper, placing her finger on her lips,
-“if we speak above a murmur we shall, perhaps be overhead—follow me,”
-and turning around, she passed swiftly through the door, and
-extinguishing her light, looked around to see if she was followed, and
-flitted into a dark alley of overhanging trees.
-
-Who can describe the emotions of de Guiscan’s bosom, as he traversed the
-garden after his guide? His release had been so sudden that it seemed
-like a dream, and he placed his hand upon his brow as if to assure
-himself of the reality of the passing scene. Nor were the sensations,
-which he experienced, less mixed than tumultuous. But over every other
-feeling, one was predominant—the determination to perish rather than to
-be re-taken, or, least of all, to suffer a hair of his fair rescuer’s
-head to be injured.
-
-Their noiseless, but rapid flight toward the lower end of the garden,
-and thence through a postern gate into the fields beyond, was soon
-completed,—and it was only when, arriving at a clump of palms, beneath
-which three steeds, and a male attendant, could be seen, as if awaiting
-them, that the maid broke silence.
-
-“Mount, Christian,” she said in her sweet voice, now trembling with
-excitement; and then turning toward her father’s towers, she looked
-mournfully at them a moment, and de Guiscan saw, by the starlight, that
-she wept.
-
-In a few minutes, however, they were mounted; and so complete had been
-the maiden’s preparations, that de Guiscan’s own horse, lance, and
-buckler, had been provided for him. But on whom would suspicion be less
-likely to rest than on the Emir’s daughter?
-
-They galloped long and swiftly through that night, and just as morning
-began to break across the hills of Syria, they turned aside into a thick
-grove, and, dismounting, sought rest. The attendant tied the foaming
-steeds a short distance apart, and, for the first time, the princess and
-de Guiscan were alone since his escape.
-
-“Fair princess,” said the young knight, “how shall I ever show my
-gratitude to you? By what name may I call my deliverer?”
-
-“Zelma!” said the maiden modestly, dropping her eyes before those of the
-knight, and speaking with a certain tremulousness of tone that was more
-eloquent than words.
-
-“Zelma!” said de Guiscan astonished, “and do I indeed behold the
-far-famed daughter of the Emir, Abel-dek, she for whom the Saracenic
-chivalry have broken so many lances? Thou art indeed beautiful, far more
-beautiful than I had dreamed. The blessed saints may be praised, that
-thou wishest to be a Christian.”
-
-“Such is my wish,” said the maiden meekly, as if desiring to change the
-conversation from her late act, “and I pray that, as soon as may be, we
-may reach some Christian outpost, where you will place me in charge of
-one of those holy women, of whom I have heard my nurse so often speak;
-and after that, the only favor I ask of you, sir knight, is, that,
-should you ever meet my father, Abel-dek, in battle, you will avoid him,
-for his daughter’s sake.”
-
-“It is granted, sweet Zelma,” said de Guiscan enthusiastically. But the
-attendant now returning, their conversation was closed for the present.
-
-Why was it that de Guiscan, instead of retiring to rest, when, having
-formed a rude couch for Zelma, he persuaded her to take a short repose,
-kept guard for hours, busy with his own thoughts, but without uttering a
-word? Was it solely gratitude to the fair Saracen which forbid him to
-trust her safety even for a moment to her attendant, or had another and
-deeper feeling, arising partly from gratitude, and partly from a
-tenderer source, taken possession of his soul? Certain it is, that
-though the young knight had gazed on the bright eyes of his own Gascony,
-and seen even the fair-haired maidens of England, yet never had he
-experienced toward any of them, such feelings as that which he now
-experienced toward Zelma. Hour after hour passed away, and still he
-stood watching over her slumbers.
-
-It was late in the afternoon when the little party again set forth on
-their flight. De Guiscan, when the road permitted it, was ever at the
-bridle reins of Zelma, and though his keen eye often swept anxiously
-around the landscape, their conversation soon grew deeply interesting,
-if we may judge by the stolen glances and heightened color of Zelma, and
-the eager attention with which the young knight listened to the few
-words which dropped from her lips. How had their demeanor changed since
-the night before! Then the princess was all energy, now she was the
-startled girl again. Then de Guiscan followed powerless as she led, now
-he it was upon whom the little party leaned for guidance.
-
-“Pursuit, the saints be praised, must long since have ceased,” said de
-Guiscan, “for yonder is the last hill hiding us from the Christian camp.
-When we gain that we shall be able to see, though still distant, the
-tents of my race.”
-
-The eyes of the maiden sparkled, and giving the reins to their steeds,
-they soon gained the ascent. The scene that burst upon them was so grand
-and imposing that, involuntarily, for a moment, they drew in and paused.
-
-Before them stretched out an extensive plain, bounded on three sides by
-chains of hills, while on the fourth, and western border, glistened far
-away the waters of the Mediterranean. Rich fields of waving green;
-sparkling rivers, now lost and now emerging to sight; rolling uplands,
-crowned with cedar forests; and, dimly seen in the distance, a long line
-of glittering light, reflected from the armor of the Crusaders, and
-telling where lay the Christian camp, opened out before the eyes of the
-fugitives.
-
-“The camp—the camp,” said de Guiscan joyously, pointing to the far-off
-line of tents.
-
-The maiden turned her eyes to behold the glittering sight, gazed at it a
-moment in silence, and then casting a look backward, in the direction of
-her father’s house, she heaved a deep sigh, and said calmly:
-
-“Had we not better proceed?”
-
-“By my halidome, yes!” said de Guiscan with sudden energy, “see yon
-troop of Saracens pricking up the mountain side in our rear—here—in a
-line with that cedar—”
-
-“I see them,” said Zelma, breathlessly, “they are part of the Emir’s
-guard—they are in pursuit.”
-
-“On—on,” was the only answer of the young knight, as he struck the
-Arabian on which the maiden rode, and plunged his spurs deep into his
-horse’s flanks.
-
-They had not been in motion long before they beheld their pursuers,
-approaching, better mounted than themselves, sweeping over the brow of
-the hill above, in a close, dense column.
-
-“Swifter—swifter, dear lady,” said the knight, looking back.
-
-“Oh! we are beset,” suddenly said Zelma, in a voice trembling with
-agitation, “see—a troop of our pursuers are winding up the path below.”
-
-The knight’s eyes following the guidance of the maiden’s trembling
-finger, beheld, a mile beneath him, a large company of infidel horse,
-closing up the egress of the fugitives. He paused an instant, almost
-bewildered. But not a second was to be lost.
-
-“Where does this horse path lead?” he said, turning to the attendant,
-and pointing to a narrow way, winding amongst precipitous rocks, toward
-the left.
-
-“It joins the greater road, some distance below.”
-
-“Then, in God’s name let us enter it, trusting to heaven for escape. If
-it comes to the worst I can defend it against all comers, provided there
-is any part of it too narrow for two to attack me abreast.”
-
-“There are many such spots!”
-
-“Then the saints be praised. In, in, dear lady—in all.”
-
-Their pace was now equally rapid until they reached a narrow gorge,
-overhung by high and inaccessible rocks, and opening behind into a wide
-highway, bordering upon a plain below.
-
-“Here will I take my position, and await their attack,” said de Guiscan.
-“How far is the nearest Christian outpost?”
-
-“A league beneath.”
-
-“Hie, then, away to it, and tell them de Guiscan escaped from a Saracen
-prison, awaits succor in this pass. We cannot all go, else we may be
-overtaken. Besides, you may be intercepted below. If you live to reach
-the crusaders, I will make you rich for life. By sundown I may expect
-succor if you succeed. Till then I can hold this post.”
-
-The man made an Oriental obeisance, and vanished, like lightning, down
-the acclivity.
-
-“Here they come,” said de Guiscan, “they have found us out, and are
-swooping like falcons from the heights.”
-
-The maiden looked, and beheld the troop of Saracens defiling down the
-mountain, one by one; the narrowness of the path forbidding even two to
-ride abreast.
-
-“Allah il Allah!” shouted the foremost infidel, perceiving the knight,
-and galloping furiously upon him as he spoke.
-
-Not a word was returned from the crusader. He stood like a statue of
-steel, awaiting the onset of the fiery Saracen. As the infidel swept on
-his career, he gradually increased his distance from his friends, until
-a considerable space intervened between him and the troop of Moslems.
-This was the moment for which the young knight had so anxiously waited.
-
-“Allah il Allah!” shouted the infidel, waving his scimitar around his
-head, as he came sweeping down upon the motionless crusader.
-
-“A de Guiscan! a de Guiscan!” thundered the knight, raising the war-cry
-of his fathers, as he couched his lance, and shot like an arrow from the
-pass. There was a tramp—a wild shout—a fleeting as of a meteor—and
-then the two combatants met in mid-career. Too late the infidel beheld
-his error, and sought to evade that earthquake charge. It was in vain.
-Horse and rider went down before the lance of the crusader, and the last
-life-blood of the Saracen had ebbed forth before de Guiscan had even
-regained his position.
-
-The savage cry of revenge which the companions of the fallen man set up,
-would have apalled any heart but that of de Guiscan. But he knew no
-fear. The presence of Zelma, too, gave new strength to his arm, and new
-energy to his soul. For more than an hour, aided by his strong position,
-he kept the whole Saracen force at bay. Every man who attacked him went
-down before his lance, or fell beneath his sword. At length, as sunset
-approached, the Saracens hemming him in closer and closer, succeeded in
-driving him back behind a projecting rock, which, though it protected
-his person, prevented him from doing any injury to his assailants, who,
-meanwhile, were endeavoring, by climbing up the face of the rock, to
-attack him from overhead. He found that it was impossible to hold out
-many moments longer. He turned to look at the maiden: she was firm and
-resolved, though pale.
-
-“We will die together,” said she, drawing closer to his side, as if
-there was greater protection there than where she had been standing.
-
-“Yes! dear Zelma, for that is, I fear me, all that is left for us to
-do.”
-
-“Hark!” suddenly said the maiden, “hear you not the clattering of
-horses’ feet—here—in the rear?”
-
-“Can it be your attendant returned?”
-
-“Yes—yes! it is—praised be the Christian’s God.”
-
-“I vow a gold candlestick to the Holy shrine at Jerusalem!”
-
-On, like a whirlwind, came the host of the Christians, over the plain
-beneath, and through the broad highway, until, perceiving their rescued
-countryman still alive with his charge, they raised such a cry of
-rejoicing that it struck terror into every Moslem’s heart. In a few
-moments all danger to the fugitives was over.
-
-The infidels, now in turn retreating, were pursued and cut off almost to
-a man, by a detachment of the Christian force; while another party of
-the succorers bore the rescued fugitives in triumph to the Christian
-outpost.
-
-In the parlor of the —— convent, at Jerusalem, a few months later De
-Guiscan awaited the appearance of Zelma. Since the day when they had
-together reached the Christian outpost, he had not beheld that beautiful
-Saracen, for she had seized the first opportunity to place herself under
-the instruction of the holy abbess of the —— convent at Jerusalem.
-During that separation, however, de Guiscan had thought long and
-ardently of his rescuer. In the bivouac; amid the noise of a camp; in
-the whirl of battle; surrounded by the beautiful and gay; wherever, in
-short, he went, the young knight had carried with him the memory of the
-fair being who, at the peril of her life, had saved him from the stake.
-Their hurried conversation in the palm grove was constantly recurring to
-his memory. Oh! how he wished that he might once more behold Zelma, if
-only to thank her anew for his life. But constantly occupied in the
-field, he had not been at leisure to visit Jerusalem, until a summons
-come from France, informing him of his father’s death, and the necessity
-that he should immediately proceed homeward, to preserve the succession
-to his barony. He determined to see Zelma once more, if only to bid her
-farewell forever.
-
-As he was swayed thus by his emotions, he heard a light step, and
-looking up, he beheld the Saracen princess.
-
-“Zelma!” he ejaculated.
-
-“De Guiscan!” said the maiden, eagerly advancing, but checking herself
-as instantly, she stood, in beautiful embarrassment, before the knight.
-
-Both felt the difficulty of their relative positions, and both would
-have spoken, but could not. At length de Guiscan said,—
-
-“Lady! I have come to thank you again for my life, before I leave this
-land forever.”
-
-“Leave Jerusalem—Palestine forever!” ejaculated Zelma.
-
-A bright, but long-forbidden hope lighted up the countenance of the
-young knight, and perceiving the renewed embarrassment with which the
-speaker paused, he said:
-
-“_Dear_ lady! I am going to my own sunny land far away; but I cannot
-depart without telling you how deeply I love you, and that I have
-thought of you, only of your sex, ever since we parted. Oh! if not
-presumptious, might I hope?”
-
-The still more embarrassed maiden blushed, but she did not withdraw the
-hand which the young knight had grasped. He raised and kissed it. The
-next moment the trembling, but glad girl, fell weeping on his bosom.
-She, too, had thought only of him.
-
-The proudest family in the south of France, to this day, trace their
-origin to the union of Zelma and de Guiscan. * * *
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- LITTLE CHILDREN.
-
-
- BY MRS. C. H. W. ESLING.
-
-
- I love those little happy things, they seem to me but given,
- To mirror on this lower earth, the far-off smiling heaven,
- Their blue eyes shining ever bright like violets steep’d in dew.
- Their looks of angel innocence—who’d not believe them true?
-
- The echo of the merry laugh, so full of heartfelt glee,
- The very revelry of joy, untameable, and free;
- The little feet that almost seem to scorn our mother earth,
- But ever, ever lisping on in frolic, and in mirth.
-
- Oh! how we look on them, and think of all our childhood’s hours,
- When we were sunny-hearted too, and wander’d among flowers,
- When like to theirs, our floating locks, were left to woo the breeze,
- Oh! Time, in all thy calendar, thou’st no such times as these.
-
- I do forget how many years have sadly passed me by,
- Since my young sun of rising morn, shone gayly in the sky;
- When I behold these happy things in all their joyous play,
- Pouring the sunshine of their hearts, upon my cloudy way.
-
- Would I could watch their gentle growth, and guard them from the
- blight,
- That ever tracks the steps of Time, like darken’d clouds of night,
- Would I could see their laughing eyes still innocently wear
- The looks of guileless purity, unmixed with woe, or care.
-
- Dear little children, ye have been to me, a source of joy,
- The sweet drop in the bitter cup of life’s too sad alloy,
- In ye, mine early days return, the rainbow days of youth,
- Of single-hearted blessedness, of tenderness, and truth.
-
- Philadelphia, January, 1841.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- THE SILVER DIGGER.
-
-
- BY J. TOPHAM EVANS.
-
-
-“Ha! ha! ha!” shouted Piet Albrecht, “and so old Chriss Mienckel is
-going to be married at last, and to pretty Barbara Mullerhorn, the
-violet of the forest! Your gold and silver are the best suitors after
-all! Give me a purse of yellow pieces before all the rifles of the
-mountain. What sayest thou, comrade,” continued he, clapping upon the
-back a young man, who sat next to him, “dost thou not think that old
-Mullerhorn, the gold-lover, would have fancied thee much better, if thou
-hadst carried more metal in thy pouch than upon thy shoulder?”
-
-“I pray thee, Piet,” responded the young man, “keep thy scurvy jests to
-thyself. My soul is far too heavy for mirth.”
-
-“Holy Saint Nicholas!” said Piet, “he thinks of little Barbara! Well,
-courage, comrade, and drink somewhat of this flask. Right Schiedam, and
-full old, I warrant thee. What, not a drop? Well, here’s to thee, then.”
-
-“Aye,” said a tall, dark visaged man, attired in a hunter’s garb, “aye!
-these love sick spirits are hardly worth the trouble of enlivening. Once
-was Adolf the gayest hunter in the hills; but of late, his courage is as
-dull as a hare’s, and all for a green girl, whose old schelm of a father
-loves his own broad pieces too well, to bestow her upon a ranger of the
-free woods.”
-
-“Peace, Franz Rudenfranck,” said the youth; “I will hear such words, not
-even from thee. If old Mullerhorn continues to refuse me, I will leave
-these, my native mountains, and wander in some far distant land,
-hopeless and broken hearted.”
-
-“Pshaw,” rejoined Rudenfranck, “thou art far too young for despair as
-yet. Throw thine ill-humor to the fiend, whence it came. There are other
-lasses as fair as Barbara Mullerhorn, and, by my faith, not so difficult
-to obtain. Therefore, fill comrades, let us pass a health to the
-recovery of Adolf’s heart, and a more favorable issue to his passion.”
-
-And the cup went gaily round, amid the shouts of the revellers.
-
-Adolf Westerbok had been the gayest huntsman of the F——g district, and
-the truest and merriest lad in the mountain, until an accidental meeting
-with Barbara Mullerhorn at a dance, had entirely changed the current of
-his feelings. It is an old story, and a much hackneyed one, that of
-love. Let us spare the description. Suffice it to say that Adolf and
-Barbara met often, and that a mutual affection subsisted between them.
-
-Adolf proposed himself to old Mullerhorn, and demanded Barbara in
-marriage. But old Philip Mullerhorn, a rude, churlish, and avaricious
-farmer, scornfully rejected the proffer of Adolf, and forbade him any
-farther interview with Barbara, alleging, as the grounds of his
-disinclination, the poverty of the hunter. Barbara was no less afflicted
-than Adolf. Still, meetings between them were contrived. At last, on the
-very evening, upon which the conversation, narrated above, took place,
-Barbara informed her distracted lover, that her father had announced to
-her his intention of bestowing her in marriage upon Chriss Mienckel, an
-elderly widower, whose share of this world’s goods was ample enough to
-attract the covetous regards of old Philip Mullerhorn.
-
-Burning with rage, and filled with tumultuous thoughts, Adolf quitted
-Barbara, after bestowing upon her a long embrace, and repaired to the
-inn of the hamlet, in hopes of finding Franz Rudenfranck, a huntsman,
-who had professed a singular attachment for him, and who had signalised
-this attachment by many personal proofs of friendship.
-
-The news of old Mienckel’s success had reached the hamlet before him,
-and he had not been seated many minutes, before Piet Albrecht, the
-professed joker of the village, began to rally him upon the subject.
-Piet had already irritated Adolf in no small measure; but the lover had
-thus far concealed his feelings.
-
-“Ha! ha!” exclaimed Piet, gaily, “to think that the old, shrivelled
-widower of threescore should outcharm the youth of twenty! If I had been
-Adolf Westerbok, I don’t think that Chriss would have carried matters
-so, and I should have worn the wedding ribbon in spite of his ducats.
-But there’s no accounting for tastes, eh? What say you, comrades?”
-
-The hunters laughed; and Adolf, annoyed at length beyond endurance,
-rejoined in somewhat of a surly tone; to which Piet answered more
-jestingly than before.
-
-“Silence, fool!” said Rudenfranck, now interfering, “thou hast neither
-wit nor manners, and I should but serve thee rightly, did I lay my
-ramrod soundly over thy shoulders.”
-
-Piet shrank back abashed, for there was that expression upon the brow of
-Rudenfranck that few cared to see, and fewer to withstand. The hunters
-were silent for a moment, but one of them, at last, answered
-Rudenfranck.
-
-“That would I fain see, Franz Rudenfranck. Keep thy ramrod for thy
-hound; for, by the holy apostles, if thou layest the weight of thy
-finger upon Piet, I will try whether my bullet or thy skin proves the
-harder, albeit some say no lead can harm thee.”
-
-“Peace, Hans Veltenmayer,” rejoined Rudenfranck. “If thou wert wise,
-which any fool may plainly perceive thou art not, thou wouldest chain
-that unruly tongue within thine ugly mouth, or keep those threats for
-thy wife, who, if some say aright, would receive them so kindly, as to
-repay thee, not in words, but in heavier coin. Tush man, never lift thy
-rifle at me.”
-
-He turned sharply upon the hunter, who had seized his rifle and was
-levelling it toward him; wrested it from his hand, and by a slight
-motion, cast him rudely upon the ground. Veltenmayer rose, and slunk
-among his laughing companions, muttering.
-
-“Come, Adolf,” said Rudenfranck, “I know what thou wouldst have. Leave
-we this merry company, and go thou with me to my hut.”
-
-They left the inn, and plunged deep into the forest.
-
-
- Chapter II.
-
-The F——g district, as it is called, where the scene of this legend is
-laid, is one of the highest points in the great range of the Alleghany
-mountains. High, broken peaks, capped with towering pines, rise upon
-every side in billowy confusion; while the loftier and more regular
-chains of mountains stretch far away in every direction, fading and
-sinking upon the eye, until from a rich, dark green, they seem to meet
-and unite with the azure of the sky. Rough, rocky precipices; a red and
-stony soil, where the green mosses crawl and intertwist, in confused,
-yet beautiful arrangement, over the sward; thick low underwood, and
-forests almost impenetrable from their density; deep ravines, and craggy
-watercourses, some entirely destitute of water, and others, gushing
-precipitately along, flushed by unfailing springs, are the
-characteristics of this mountain district. The rude log cabins of the
-few inhabitants of this country, lie distant and scantily scattered
-through the almost pathless woods, and the entire appearance of the
-scenery has a sublime, though a savage and uncultivated air. The
-original settlers of this tract were Germans and Swiss, whose
-descendants, even at the present day, are almost the sole tenantry of
-these hills. Their nature seems congenial to the surrounding mountains;
-and the national exercise of the rifle, the merry dance and song, and
-those yet more venerable Dionysia, the apple-butter boilings, quilting
-parties, and log liftings, still constitute the favorite amusements of
-this primitive people. Even their religion, a strange compound of German
-mysticism, engrafted upon a plentiful stock of superstition, seems
-peculiarly appropriate to their mode of living, and their wild country.
-Nay, the very dress of a century back, still holds its fashion among
-these hills; and the peasant or hunter, loosely attired in his homespun
-suit of brown or blue adorned with fringe, or decked out with large,
-antique, silver or pewter buttons, occasionally garnished with the
-effigies of some popular saint; his large, broad brimmed wool hat,
-flapped over his face; his leather leggings; and dark, curly beard,
-presents a lively image of his fathers, the original settlers of the
-district. Add to this, the bright, keen wood-knife, sheathed in its
-leather case, and stuck in a broad girdle, with the powder horn and
-pouch; and the unfailing rifle strapped across the shoulder, and you
-have a perfect description of the general appearance of that people, who
-inhabit the F——g settlement, and the back-woods of Pennsylvania, at
-the present day.
-
-Rudenfranck and his companion strode onward through the woods for some
-time without speaking. The elder hunter eyeing his friend keenly, at
-last broke the unsocial silence.
-
-“I need not ask of thee, Adolf, why thy brow is clouded, and thine eye
-so heavy. I, myself, although thou mayest smile at such confession from
-me, have suffered long, and deeply, from a like cause. But my tale shall
-not now interrupt thy grief, and I have often thought that the very
-leaves of the forest would find tongues to repeat a story, which might
-move nature herself. I would afford thee aid; not gall thy wounds by the
-recital of my own. Speak; is it not thus? Thou hast met Barbara
-Mullerhorn, even after her churlish father had forbidden thy suit. I
-know too well, Adolf, that the more we are opposed the brighter burns
-our love. But in pursuing thus thy suit, thou hast not done wisely. Yet
-I may still aid thee, and I will do so.”
-
-“Alas, good Franz,” replied the youth, “this complaint is far beyond thy
-remedy. Gold alone can sway the determination of Philip Mullerhorn, and
-well dost thou know that Chriss Mienckel is the richest man in the
-settlement. How then canst thou, a poor hunter like myself, afford that
-aid, which wealth alone can give? No! no! I see nought save
-disappointment—save despair!”
-
-“Thou knowest but little of me, Adolf,” said Rudenfranck, solemnly, “but
-thou art destined to learn more. See, the moon is already rising through
-the pines, and on this evening, the annual recurrence of which, is
-fraught with dread and woe to me; and each succeeding anniversary of
-which, brings me nearer to my stern destiny, shalt thou learn of me a
-secret, which, if thou hast the fearlessness of soul to fathom, all may
-be well, at least with thee. But thou canst only learn it of me.”
-
-“Rudenfranck,” said Adolf, “the hunters speak much evil of thee, and
-strange tales are current concerning thee in the settlement. Unholy
-things, it is said, flit round thy hut in the hushed hour of midnight.
-Unholy sounds are heard resounding through the deep glen where thou
-abidest. Old men speak warily of thee, and cross themselves as thou
-passest by, and the village maidens shrink from thy hand in the dance.
-These may be idle tales; but, Rudenfranck, thy words to-night are
-suspicious. Nevertheless, be thou wizard or enchanter; be thy knowledge
-that of the good saints, or of a darker world, to thee and to that
-knowledge I commit myself. Thou hast proved thy friendship, and, for
-weal or woe, I will trust thee.”
-
-“Men speak not all aright,” rejoined the hunter, while a dark shadow
-obscured his visage, and his words fell as though he spake them
-unwillingly, “nor say they altogether wrong.” The young huntsman looked
-at Rudenfranck for a moment; then, grasping his hand, he cried—
-
-“Then thou canst aid me, Rudenfranck?”
-
-“That will I, as I have the power,” said the hunter; “but we are at the
-hut. Thy hand upon it, that what I shall tell thee will find a grave in
-thy breast. Else I will not, I cannot assist thee.”
-
-“My hand upon it,” replied Adolf.
-
-“Enter then,” said the hunter, “let fear be a stranger to thy breast,
-and all shall yet be well.”
-
-As they entered the cottage, a shadowy form flitted past the door, and
-the wind sighed mournfully through the forest.
-
-
- Chapter III.
-
-The hut of Rudenfranck differed but little in appearance from the
-ordinary dwellings of the settlers of the district. Large pine logs,
-piled rudely together, and cemented with mud, in order to exclude the
-wind from the chinks, composed the cabin. Two or three common chairs, a
-pine table, and a camp bed, with a few culinary utensils, constituted
-the entire furniture of the hunter’s hut. A torch of resinous wood,
-which flared from an iron bracket, gave light to the room, and a large
-fire soon occupied the wide hearth. A few articles of sylvan warfare
-hung round the cabin; and on a shelf, some pewter mugs and earthen
-dishes, a pair of stag’s antlers, and two or three old folios, their
-ponderous covers clasped together with silver clenches, lay exposed. A
-large, rawboned dog, rough of coat, and muscular of form, whose fine
-muzzle and bright eye, spoke of rare blood, was extended before the
-hearth. Roused by the noise made by Rudenfranck and his companion in
-entering, he sprang up, erected his bristles, and uttered a low growl.
-
-“Down, Fritz, be quiet,” said Rudenfranck, as the dog, recognising his
-master, fawned upon him; “welcome to my poor hut, Adolf. I can give thee
-no better cheer than our coarse mountain fare will afford, although I
-may assist thee in some other important matters. Come, draw thy chair to
-the fire, man. The wind is somewhat sharp to-night, and I will endeavor
-to make out some refreshment for thee.”
-
-He retired for a moment, and entered again, bearing a noble supply of
-fat venison, which he immediately set about preparing for their supper.
-The rich steam of the savory steaks soon attracted the attention of
-Fritz, who, stretched out before the fire with lion-like gravity,
-inhaled their genial flavor with manifest symptoms of approbation.
-Rudenfranck’s preparations were soon completed, and, producing a curious
-green flask, and two tall silver cups from a recess, he invited Adolf,
-by precept and example, to partake of the viands set before him.
-
-But the spirit of Adolf was too heavy for feasting, and the morsel lay
-untasted on the trencher before him. Rudenfranck himself, although he
-pressed Adolf to eat, neglected his meal, and the table was speedily
-cleared, Fritz being accommodated with the relics of the repast.
-
-“Taste this wine,” said Rudenfranck, “although myself no great lover of
-the grape, I am somewhat curious in my choice of wines, and may indulge
-my little vanity so far as to quaff the juice I drink, out of a more
-costly metal than falls to the lot of most gay hunters.”
-
-“Truly, Rudenfranck,” replied Adolf, “thy promised plans for the relief
-of my unfortunate condition seem to have escaped thy memory. For rather
-would I hearken to them, than drink thy wine, even from a silver cup.”
-
-“Not so, Adolf,” said the hunter, “I will now fulfil my promise to thee.
-But first, the secret of my power to aid thee, and the means by which
-this assistance may be rendered, must be explained to thee. Listen,
-then, and regard not my countenance but my words.”
-
-“You have heard the elders of the hamlet speak of Count Theodore
-Falkenhelm, a renowned noble of Alsace, in Germany. This Falkenhelm was
-known to have sailed from Germany, with many other settlers for America.
-Few knew his reasons for quitting his native country, for he was a dark,
-unsocial man, and some have said that he had dealings with the Spirit of
-Evil. He had not been resident here for a long time, before it was
-observed that he became averse to society, cautious of remark, and
-jealous of scrutiny. The spot in which he had fixed his abode, was
-visited by few footsteps, for his mood was fierce, and his society, at
-times, was dangerous. It was concluded that he was insane. But it was
-not so. Mark me.
-
-“A youth, some five years after the count had taken his dwelling in
-these mountains, arrived here from Germany. He had not long ranged these
-woods, before the fame of the count inspired him with a boyish curiosity
-to see and to know him. An opportunity was soon afforded; for returning
-one evening, wearied with the chase, a thunder storm and night overtook
-him near the cottage of the count. He demanded hospitality, and was
-admitted, though reluctantly. What he saw that night, when all was
-hushed in the death of sleep, he never told to mortal; but he raved
-wildly of fiends and phantoms, and died, soon after, a maniac.
-
-“Shortly after this event, the count disappeared, nor has since been
-heard of here. But many succeeding years brought news of a dismal
-tragedy in Germany, and from the account of him who brought the report,
-it was supposed by those who remembered the count, that he was the
-principal actor in the scene of blood.
-
-“The hut which the recluse had deserted, was the source of continual
-dread to the superstitious peasants, whose fears had magnified the
-ruinous cabin into a palace, where the revels of the great fiend were
-held. But one, whose heart was bolder, and who had lately arrived in the
-settlement, took possession of the hut, repaired it, and there fixed his
-abode. That man, Adolf Westerbok, stands before you.
-
-“I have not always been what I now appear. I was well born, although
-poor, and had served in my country’s battles, not without reputation. I
-loved the daughter of a baron, of high family and large estates, whose
-castle, on the Aar, stood near the dwelling of my father. Thy tale of
-love is mine, thus far. Although loved in return, and loving—O! spirit
-of my injured Thekla!—deeper, far deeper than mortal, whose blood
-burned not like mine, could love; she was torn from me—me, who would
-have died for her; whose only aim in life was to approve myself worthy
-of her—and whose love was mine alone—torn from me, and dragged, an
-unwilling, wretched sacrifice, to the castle of a rich nobleman of our
-country. Here, her tears and visible decay, instead of moving compassion
-in the heart of her husband, rendered him jealous and morose. On one
-occasion, he struck her to the earth in furious rage—struck her, do you
-mark me?—aye, inflicted a blow on that fair breast which I would have
-braved hell to defend! It caused her death, for she was pregnant—she
-died that day. I—yon insulted heaven knows how deeply!—I avenged her,
-and the steel which struck the life blow to his heart, never has been,
-and never shall be cleansed. Look at it—I keep it as a memorial of most
-holy revenge!”
-
-Rudenfranck drew from his vest a broad, sharp dagger, and threw it on
-the table before Adolf, who saw with horror that the blade and hilt were
-encrusted with the stains of long-spilled blood.
-
-“I was forced to quit Germany, and wandered through Spain an aimless,
-hopeless man. Here I became acquainted with Count Falkenhelm. He was in
-danger from the Inquisition, and I aided his escape from their toils. A
-hater of mankind, naught, save the knowledge of how bitter an enmity
-Falkenhelm bore to it, prompted me to rescue him from the snare. A
-murder was committed in Alsace. Letters came to me from Falkenhelm,
-desiring me to hasten to him, and ere he met the inevitable doom of his
-crime, to receive a last legacy which he wished to bequeath me.
-
-“I hastened to him, and on the night ere he was executed, he imparted to
-me this secret: that, deep within these forests, the mighty treasures of
-a long buried sage and necromancer, whose power could control the
-elements, and the spirits of fire, lay hidden. These were the treasures
-of Bructorix, borne from Germany by magic spells. They were guarded by
-potent spirits of hell. To me did he commit this knowledge, together
-with those books, at which you have often wondered, and this spell,
-which commands the world of demons.”
-
-As he spoke, he again went to the recess, drew forth a small gold box,
-and opening it with reverence, displayed a fair linen cloth, folded in
-such a manner as to present five angles, at equal distances, in the
-centre of which was fixed an opal, of immense value, upon which certain
-mysterious letters were engraved. The letters which formed the spell,
-glistened and flashed as though with internal fires, as the light fell
-upon the polished jewel.
-
-“This,” said Rudenfranck, closing the box, “is the magic pentagon, the
-key to the treasures of King Bructorix.”
-
-“Heavens!” cried Adolf, “you received, then, this most fatal gift?”
-
-“I did; and took upon myself an awful penalty. I said, ‘Ambition! thou
-shalt be my God, for love is lost to me!’ I came on to this country
-immediately after the execution of the count, and have discovered the
-treasure. Reasons, unimportant for you to know, have detained me here
-some years, disguised as the hunter Rudenfranck. This is the point,
-then. You cannot obtain Barbara Mullerhorn without gold; nor dare I, if
-I could, bestow this treasure upon you. You must follow my example, and
-call upon the spirit of Bructorix yourself. I will instruct you in the
-manner, but you must undertake the adventure.”
-
-“And the penalty you spoke of,” said Adolf, trembling, as the hot eyes
-of Rudenfranck glared upon him.
-
-“I cannot tell you. The spirit proposes different sacrifices. Mine is—”
-
-A loud gust of wind interrupted the speaker, and Adolf shuddered, as he
-fancied he could distinguish the flapping of pinions through the blast.
-
-“Ha!” said Rudenfranck, breathing hard, and speaking low,—“I had
-forgot!—I had forgot!”
-
-“Is this thy plan?” said Adolf, “I fear me it is unhallowed. I will
-begone and pray to be delivered from the evil one. Rudenfranck, I will
-not accept of such assistance.”
-
-“Thy life upon it,” said the hunter, “if thou betrayest me.”
-
-“I have given my hand to secresy, and yet—”
-
-“Choose well and warily, Adolf.”
-
-“That will I, Rudenfranck. There can be no sin, I trust, in hearing so
-unholy a tale. Is this the only plan—?”
-
-“It is the only one. But, away, if thou canst not accept this aid. I can
-give thee no other.”
-
-“Then,” said Adolf, as he turned slowly to leave the hut, “I am ruined
-and desperate!”
-
-“Aye, go,” said Rudenfranck bitterly, looking after the retreating form
-of Adolf, with a fiendish sneer, “go, fool! Thus is it ever with that
-microcosm of folly, man. Aye, I can plainly see that the treasure of
-King Bructorix will soon acquire a new guardian. Another victim, and I
-leave these fatal shores, and forever.”
-
-
- Chapter IV.
-
-As Adolf returned homeward, many and various were the contending
-reflections which embittered his mind. At one time he thought of the
-misery which he must endure in beholding the object of his dearest
-affections, united to Mienckel, her profound aversion; now, vague dreams
-of the wealth and happiness which the possession of the hidden treasure
-would confer upon him, flitted across his mind; but a chill damp struck
-through his soul as he remembered the intimated penalty; and wild
-imaginations of spectral forms, demoniac faces, and the awful legendary
-tales, so current among the peasantry, filled his breast with horror. He
-reached his cottage, and threw himself upon his humble couch, agonised
-by conflicting emotions. No sleep visited his pillow, and early the next
-morning he arose and went forth, hoping to subdue the fever of his blood
-by exercise in the cold air. He wandered about for some time, listless
-in which direction he took his way, until he found himself near the farm
-house of old Mullerhorn.
-
-It was a jolly day at the house of that ancient. Turkeys, geese, pigs,
-and the promiscuous tenantry of the barn yard, bled beneath the knives
-of the rosy Dutch damsels. The smoke curled in copious volumes from the
-ample chimneys, and the hissing of culinary utensils, employed at the
-genial occupation of preparing divers dainties, together with the savory
-odors from the purlieus of the kitchen, gave indisputable tokens that
-something highly important was taking place in the house. Adolf viewed
-this busy scene with melancholy feelings enough, for he well presaged
-what it meaned. He paused, and leaned sadly on his rifle; but his heart
-felt still heavier, when, from a window of the farm house a fair white
-hand was extended, waving a handkerchief toward him. A tear stole down
-his cheek, as he acknowledged the signal, and, raising his rifle, was
-about to depart, when a slight tap on the shoulder arrested him, and a
-plump little maiden, whose rosy cheeks, and smiling face, were the very
-emblems of good humor, in fact, a perfect Dutch Hebe, accosted him.
-
-“Why, how now, master Adolf? Have you not a word for an old
-acquaintance?”
-
-“Ah, Agatha, is it thou? How dost thou, my good lass?”
-
-“Better, Adolf, than either yourself or Barbara, if there is any
-judgment in your looks. Why, you look as if you had seen a spectre, and
-if you will keep company with that black-looking wretch, that Franz
-Rudenfranck, I wouldn’t insure that you will not see one, some of these
-dark nights. Bless me, how you change color. Are you sick?”
-
-“No, no, Agatha. Not so sick in body as in heart. How fares Barbara?”
-
-“Why, indeed, Dolf, for I will call you Dolf again, and it’s a shame for
-father Philip to make us all call you master Adolf; master indeed! she
-has done nothing but cry all night. But she is to be married to old
-Chriss this morning—the odious fool! I’m sure she hates him—and I’ve a
-thousand things to do; so good bye to you Dolf.”
-
-The lively little girl ran off, and Adolf again was about to pursue his
-path, when old Mullerhorn, accompanied by the intended bridegroom, and
-some of his neighbors, arrived at the farm.
-
-“What, Adolf,” said the old man, while a cynical smile played over his
-thin features, “Adolf here. Thou hast been a stranger of late, lad. But,
-come, wilt thou not in with us and witness this merry marriage? In
-faith, it will gladden my little Barbara to see thee there. Come, thou
-must aid in this gay ceremony.”
-
-Adolf was, for a moment, undecided what answer to make old Mullerhorn;
-but curbing his indignation, and repressing an angry reply—he thought
-it most prudent to accept the invitation.
-
-“I thank you, neighbor Philip,” said he, “and willingly will go with
-you.”
-
-“Why, that is well spoken, boy,” replied the old man, unusually elated
-by the occasion. “I always liked thee, Adolf; but no ducats, lad, no
-ducats.”
-
-“They are not so very difficult to procure,” whispered a voice in
-Adolf’s ear; he turned, and beheld Rudenfranck.
-
-“Well, in, Adolf; and eh? Franz Rudenfranck too? But, in—in with ye
-both,” said old Mullerhorn, and the party entered the farm-house.
-
-The room into which they were ushered, was an ample, commodious
-apartment, constructed in the true Dutch fashion, with a polished oak
-floor, and noble rafters of the same wood. It was hung around with some
-few gay colored prints, illustrating Scripture subjects, and some bright
-tin sconces; and the furniture was substantial, although homely. A large
-mahogany press, whose bright surface and polished brass knobs, might
-have compared in brilliancy with the mirror, stood in one corner; an old
-fashioned Indian chest, ponderous and highly japanned, ornamented the
-opposite niche. Some heavy chairs with long, high backs, and formal arms
-and legs; the never failing spinning wheel and Dutch clock; and a pair
-of tall, ill-shaped, brass fire-dogs, completed the garniture of the
-apartment. The walls were decorated with festoons of evergreen,
-tastefully arranged by the fair hands of Barbara herself. Two
-ill-looking, dingy paintings, also occupied a couple of recesses; and a
-neatly polished cherry table, near a window, displayed an inviting array
-of apple brandy, cherry wine, cider, and such refreshments as were
-indigenous to the country. The good dame, after welcoming kindly her
-guests, bustled off to resume the superintendence of the kitchen; and
-the unfortunate Barbara herself, arrayed in bridal trim, and looking
-through her tears, as lovely as the violet, freshly bathed in dew,
-remained, seated in one of the large chairs, and vainly endeavoring to
-conceal her emotion. As Adolf entered, her heart palpitated violently,
-and she could with difficulty so far command herself, as to bid him
-welcome. Nor did the sight of Barbara in such distress, fail equally to
-afflict her lover; a grief which Rudenfranck artfully increased, by
-hinting strongly to Adolf, the possibility of changing the entire face
-of the scene.
-
-The magistrate having arrived, and matters being so arranged as to bring
-the affiance to a conclusion, Rudenfranck took the opportunity to lead
-Adolf apart from the rest.
-
-“Thou thrice sodden ass,” said he, “can’st thou call thyself a lover,
-and yet allow so much innocence and beauty to be sacrificed to age and
-avarice? Say thou the word; promise to obey me, and thou shalt yet
-possess her. See, they are about to sign. Hesitate a moment longer—and
-look, Barbara implores thee—she is lost. Farewell.”
-
-“Stay,” rejoined Adolf, hurriedly, “this must not—shall not be.
-Rudenfranck, I promise.”
-
-“Then, demand of old Mullerhorn that the ceremony be delayed, and leave
-the rest to me.”
-
-“Father Philip,” said Adolf, addressing Mullerhorn, who was just about
-to affix his name to the deed, “you are aware how long and how truly I
-have loved Barbara. To see her thus sacrificed, is more than I can bear,
-and I entreat you to consider farther upon this matter, and to defer
-this marriage.”
-
-The guests looked utterly confounded. Chriss Mienckel opened wide his
-large, gray eyes, and stared upon the bold hunter in profound amazement.
-Barbara turned red and pale by turns; and old Mullerhorn crimsoned with
-rage.
-
-“Have I not told ye, Adolf Westerbok, that I would never bestow Barbara
-upon a beggarly hunter? What devil then, prompts thee to interrupt a
-match which thou hast no power to prevent?”
-
-“Dearest father,” said Barbara, clasping the hard hand of the old man,
-“hearken to Adolf.”
-
-“Away, idle girl! Adolf, tempt me not to do thee an injury.”
-
-“Nay,” said the hunter, “is it even so? Well, then; gold for gold—ducat
-for ducat—nay, double each ducat that old Mienckel can bestow, will I
-lay before you, Philip Mullerhorn.”
-
-“Thy morning draught has been somewhat of the strongest, Adolf. Where
-should’st thou have met with these sums?” Chriss Mienckel chuckled
-portentously, and thrusting each hand into his capacious pockets, a
-melodious harmony of jingling coins soon resounded from their precincts.
-
-“Look in thy pouch,” whispered Rudenfranck. Adolf did so, and drew forth
-two purses, richly furnished with gold. Astonishment fairly stupified
-the guests; and the covetous eyes of old Mullerhorn glistened at the
-sight of money. But the recollection of Mienckel’s broad lands and fair
-cattle crossed his mind.
-
-“Gold for gold,” said he, musingly. “Well, well, it may be so; and
-Adolf, when thou canst certify me concerning these riches, thou shalt,
-perhaps, find me not altogether opposed to thee. This ceremony, for the
-present, with the consent of Mienckel, shall be postponed.”
-
-Mienckel nodded his assent; for he was a man of but few words. But
-Adolf, holding the hand of Barbara, demanded an immediate trial.
-
-“Be it so, then,” replied Mullerhorn. “My neighbor’s property is well
-known. Let it be thy task to prove thy fortune equal to his.”
-
-“Yes,” said Mienckel, “house and farm—cattle and gear—broad
-lands—rich farming ground—bright ducats——”
-
-“To balance which, I throw, as earnest, these purses,” said Adolf.
-“Rudenfranck, can’st thou not aid me now?” whispered he, turning to the
-hunter.
-
-“Not now,” rejoined Rudenfranck, “you have the last of my gold.
-To-night——”
-
-“To-night!” said Adolf, impatiently, “an age! Father Philip, I pledge
-myself that on the morrow I will prove myself worthy your regard in
-purse as well as in love.”
-
-“Agreed,” said Mullerhorn, “until to-morrow let the espousal be
-deferred. If thou can’st then satisfy my doubts, Barbara shall be thine.
-If not, this marriage shall no longer be prevented.”
-
-“Thanks, father, and farewell. Come thou with me, Rudenfranck. Ere
-to-morrow night, sweet Barbara, all shall be accomplished.”
-
-Rudenfranck and Adolf left the house, and walked through the forest in
-the direction of the hut of Rudenfranck. Few words were exchanged
-between them, until, being arrived at the hut, they closed the door
-carefully, and Adolf broke silence.
-
-“Now, Rudenfranck,” said he, “I must know the means by which this
-treasure may be discovered. Speak then, and quickly. I promise obedience
-in all matters, faithfully and truly.”
-
-“Then,” replied Rudenfranck, “it is thus. Meet me to-night, as the moon
-casts a straight shadow over the range of the Wolf Hills. You know the
-dark cavern by the run, where, it is said, that old Schwearenheim was
-carried off bodily, by the Evil One——”
-
-“It is a fearful place, and a fearful hour,” said Adolf.
-
-“Fool, thou hast gone too far to recede. Only hint at doing so, and, by
-all the fiends of hell, I withdraw every hope of my assistance from
-thee. Wilt thou excite the expectations of Barbara, only to dash them
-again to the earth? Wilt thou thus vacillate, until it becomes too late
-to save her from Mienckel? If thou dost so, thou art the veriest
-driveller that wears man’s attire. Mark me, and answer not. Meet me
-there, at the cave, when the midnight hour arrives; and hark thee, thou
-must procure a wafer of the consecrated host. Bring thy rifle with thee,
-and leave the rest to my care.”
-
-“Be it so,” said Adolf, “it is too late to recede.”
-
-“See that thou fail not,” said Rudenfranck, “and now promise to
-Mullerhorn what thou wilt. Keep thou but faith with me, and thou shalt
-enjoy all that thou hast ever hoped for. Be not seen with me to-day. Go
-to the village. Look cheerily; procure that which I have directed thee,
-and fail not at midnight.”
-
-
- Chapter V.
-
-The shades of evening were gradually enveloping the country in darkness,
-as Adolf and Barbara sat together, in the mansion of the Mullerhorns.
-They spoke of love and happier times, and the bright eyes of the maiden
-beamed joyously upon the countenance of the youth. Adolf had learned the
-art of dissimulation in a brief space of time. Alas! it is but the first
-step in evil that alarms, and he, that has abandoned the paths of
-virtue, but for a moment, finds it far more difficult to retrace his
-steps, than to continue in the ways of error. To the enquiries of
-Barbara, concerning the wealth which he had so lately acquired, he
-replied, that the death of a relation, whose property was ample, had
-enabled him to compete, in point of riches, even with Christopher
-Mienckel. Barbara fully believed him; for true love is ever ready of
-faith; and fondly pictured to herself many a scene of happiness and of
-domestic felicity. Thus the evening wore on; and the hunter was startled
-to hear the hour of ten strike from the clock, as he arose to quit the
-society of Barbara, and to join the companion of his unhallowed
-undertaking.
-
-“Whither away to-night, and so early, Adolf?” asked Barbara, as the
-hunter made ready to depart.
-
-“I have shot a buck in the forest, and must seek aid to bring him in,”
-replied Adolf.
-
-“It is full late to seek your game in the broad forest to-night, Adolf,”
-said Piet Albrecht, who had been solacing himself with a dish of
-discourse with Agatha, in the kitchen, and now came to bid Barbara good
-night. “Yet, if you would wish my help, to show you that I have
-forgotten our difference, I don’t care if I go with you.”
-
-“I thank thee, Piet,” replied the young man, “but the game lies far off,
-and Franz Rudenfranck has promised to go with me.”
-
-“Where have you left it?” asked Barbara.
-
-“Deep in the forest; near the Wolf Hills. At the cave of Schwearenheim.”
-
-“I know not,” said Piet, shuddering, “what could tempt me to go there,
-so near midnight. It will be nearly that, Adolf, when you reach there,
-and the cave is, the saints be good to us, an unholy spot.”
-
-“Pshaw, Piet, this is mere superstition,” said the hunter; but his cheek
-glowed, and his flesh trembled. “Why should the cave be a more unholy
-spot than any other part of the forest?”
-
-“You know as well as I do, Adolf, that few of the hunters have the
-courage to pass there after dark. My father has told me awful things of
-the place, and one of them happened to himself.”
-
-“What was that, pray, Piet?” said Agatha, “did he tumble into the run,
-and fancy that the water was Schiedam?”
-
-“Nothing of the sort, Mistress Agatha,” responded Piet. “You must know
-that my father was a woodsman, as bold as any man among the hills. He
-happened to be late out one evening, after game; and had chased a large
-mountain cat to the run, where the cat climbed up an old hollow tree. My
-father followed him closely, and mounted after him; but his hold gave
-way, as he was looking down the hollow, and he slipped clear through the
-hole, good forty feet down the inside of the tree. Well, he thought that
-his hour was come, and that he should starve to death there; for the
-inside of the tree was so smooth that he could get no hold for either
-hand or foot; and so he had lost all hope of ever escaping, when he saw
-something black come sliding down the tree. He recommended himself to
-God, and when the thing, whatever it was, came within reach, he seized
-hold of it, and it climbed up again, dragging my father after it. It had
-no sooner reached the top of the tree; but a loud clap of thunder was
-heard, and the thing sailed away in a flame of fire, far away over the
-tree tops. My father clung fast to the trunk of the tree, and slid down
-the outside, after he had clambered out of the hollow; then thanking
-Providence for his deliverance, he went home as fast as his legs could
-carry him.”
-
-“A wonderful tale, indeed, Piet,” said Agatha, laughing.
-
-“Wonderful enough,” said Piet.
-
-“Well, Piet,” said Adolf, “was this truth?”
-
-“Truth!” replied Piet, “I should like to have heard any man tell my
-father that it was otherwise.”
-
-“Do not go to-night, dearest Adolf,” said Barbara, turning pale.
-
-“This is mere folly, sweet Barbara. If I failed to bring home my buck,
-all the hunters would cry shame upon me.”
-
-The clock struck the half hour, and Adolf, snatching up his rifle, bade
-Barbara good night, and leaving the house, struck into the path which
-led to the Wolf Hills.
-
-“Aye, aye,” said Piet, looking after him, “he doesn’t believe in any
-such matters; but I fear it is no good that he is bent upon. So much
-gold, too, and so lately. But it’s no affair of mine. Did you mark the
-wildness of his eye, though, Agatha?”
-
-
- Chapter VI.
-
-The moon shone brightly and calmly over the still woods, and the gentle
-breath of the night wind sighed mournfully over the ear, as it kissed
-the forest branches, and swept through the tops of the pines. The murmur
-of the stream, as it flowed smoothly onward between the high mountain
-passes, added to the soft influence of the scene. All nature was lulled
-into repose. A small charcoal fire, burning on a rocky ledge, beneath a
-tall cliff, disclosed the mouth of a dark cavern, at the entrance of
-which sat Rudenfranck, the hunter, wrapped in a cloak, to protect his
-person from the heavy damps of the night. He rose from his seat, and
-moved restlessly about, making some arrangements in the mouth of the
-cavern, and occasionally casting an anxious glance over the surrounding
-hills, as if impatiently expecting his victim.
-
-“I think that he will hardly fail me,” muttered he. “No, he has too much
-at stake to abandon this enterprise. How still the night is! Strange,
-that he comes not, and yet the hour approaches rapidly. All is
-prosperous thus far. O, star of my destiny, triumph in this hour, which
-is doomed to complete the anxious toil of years! Rejoice in the
-anticipated majesty of high dominion! But why do I feel so sad? What
-small voice is that, which whispers me to desist from my undertaking?
-Repentance—repentance! My spirit is too dark, and I could not, if I
-would, repent. How quickly my heart beats as the time speeds on! Yet one
-more victim! Why, I shall be a king? that word is too weak, to express
-the glorious extent of wisdom and power which I shall enjoy. But
-happiness—no, no!—that feeling I shall never more experience! These
-thoughts—the recollection of past crime. Why should I think of crime,
-who am beyond the hope of salvation? Ha! he comes! ’Twas but the plash
-of an otter. No! he is here!”
-
-“Rudenfranck, is it thou?” said Adolf, “lend me thy hand. So. I have met
-with strange warnings in my path toward thee. I fear to go on. Can
-nothing be devised save this dread trial?”
-
-“I have already told thee, nothing. Come up. The air is damp, and my
-fire burns brightly. Have you procured that which I desired of thee?”
-
-“I have it; but, Rudenfranck, sacrilege was the price of it.”
-
-“Never regard the price, so as thou hast it. This is right,” said the
-hunter, as he received the consecrated wafer. “Help me to build this
-pile, which must be raised before we commence our solemn work.”
-
-Adolf assisted Rudenfranck to build a small pile of stones, upon which
-were deposited the box containing the pentagon, the consecrated wafer,
-and a small cruse, in which was a dark red liquid. Rudenfranck also
-placed a brazier on the pile, into which he deposited some slips of
-parchment, inscribed with talismanic characters. As they finished their
-task, the moon cast a straight and gigantic shadow across the Wolf
-Hills, and the pines seemed to dilate, in the white glare, to an
-unearthly size.
-
-“It is the hour,” said Rudenfranck. “Be firm. Shrink not; and expect the
-full reward of thy bravery. Help me to don these vestments.” He threw
-across his shoulders a furred robe, which he bound tightly round his
-body with a broad, red girdle. He then placed on his head a conical cap,
-and taking in his hand a sword, inscribed with characters, and without a
-guard, he described on the earth, the form of a pentagon, the centre of
-the figure being occupied by the altar stones, at the side of which
-Rudenfranck placed his companion.
-
-“Lay thine hand on the altar,” said Rudenfranck, “and pour from this
-cruse into the brazier, the liquid which it contains. Stay not to look
-around thee, but feed the fire steadily, while I perform our magic
-ceremonies.”
-
-Rudenfranck lit a fire in the brazier as he spoke, and drawing a dagger
-from his girdle, plunged it violently into his arm. The blood flowed
-freely. He allowed it to run upon the five angles, reciting in a strange
-language, mysterious charms. He then placed the linen pentagon in front
-of his breast, and commanded Adolf to feed the flame as he had
-instructed him. Adolf poured the liquid from the cruse into the burning
-brazier; and Rudenfranck, gradually raising his voice, until from a
-measured chaunt, he broke into furious vehemence, suddenly pronounced
-the charm of the opal. The moon, which had till now shone brightly,
-changed its color to a deep red; thunder rolled, and the forked
-lightning flashed frequently and fearfully. The stars shot wildly across
-the face of heaven. The wind whistled and groaned through the trees. The
-earth quaked; and the whole frame of nature seemed to shudder at the
-incantation. A furious crash resounded through the cavern; brilliant
-lights danced through the gloom; the magic words engraved on the opal
-gave out a dense and aromatic smoke, and the entire body of rock,
-seeming to split asunder, with a tremendous crash, disclosed a
-magnificent brazen gate, ornamented with characters similar to those on
-the opal, at the sides of which two gigantic skeletons, crowned with
-diadems, and bearing strange weapons in their bony grasp, stood, the
-grisly warders of the charmed treasure.
-
-Rudenfranck paused from his incantations, and, turning to Adolf, said in
-a hoarse whisper,
-
-“This is the portal which encloses the treasures of Bructorix; but the
-phantom of the sage must now be invoked. Take thou this holy wafer, and
-affix it to yon brazen gate. Do this speedily, and fear not.”
-
-Adolf, highly excited and bewildered by the scene, obeyed without
-hesitation. Once, as he was about to affix the consecrated element to
-the gate, he fancied that some invisible arm endeavored to restrain his
-hand; but he performed the commands of Rudenfranck, and returned to the
-altar.
-
-“Now,” said Rudenfranck, “but one more thing remains for thee to
-perform. Raise thy rifle; take good aim, and shoot at the wafer of the
-host. Shoot bravely!”
-
-The wretched and abandoned Adolf followed the instructions of
-Rudenfranck. He raised his rifle, took deliberate aim at the holy
-emblem, and fired. A demoniac shout rang through the cave. The angles of
-the pentagon shot forth vivid lightnings. The skeleton guardians of the
-gate threw down their weapons, while red light flamed from their eyeless
-skulls. The massive leaves of the gate flew wide open, and displayed an
-immense vault, filled with huge vases of gold and jewels, which shone
-with ineffable brilliance. The arched and fretted roof was sustained by
-bronze pillars, representing strange and hideous animals, contorted into
-the most grotesque attitudes. Thousands of gnomes, swarmed through the
-vault, of misshapen forms, whose fierce and raging eyes dwelt upon the
-hunters, with anger and contempt. Thrice did Rudenfranck, bowing himself
-to the earth, call upon the name of Bructorix. Thrice hollow thunder
-pealed throughout the cavern, and, at the third appeal, a gigantic
-figure rose slowly through the earth, and stood before them. The figure
-was enveloped in an imperial robe of purple, embroidered with jewels,
-precious beyond description. A girdle of living fire encircled his
-waist, and a crown of various and brilliant gems bound his white and
-flowing locks. In his hand he carried an ivory sceptre. His countenance,
-scathed by flames, looked like that of some ghastly denizen of the tomb,
-newly raised to-day; and its expression was lofty, haughty and
-commanding.
-
-“Who calls upon the name of Bructorix?” asked the spectre, in a
-sepulchral voice.
-
-“The seeker of his power, mighty spirit,” answered Rudenfranck. “I bring
-to thee the promised victim, and expect the reward of my services. Once
-more prolong the date of my life, and execute those promises made me;
-when by mighty spells, I had raised thee from the abode of the dead, in
-Germany. That term expired, I bring unto thee another soul, or else
-resign my own.”
-
-“Would this youth enjoy my treasures,” asked the phantom, “and knows he
-the nature of the obligation I demand of him?”
-
-“He asks wealth of thee, and, in return, will accede to thy demands.”
-
-“Let him sign the deed, which gives over to my master his soul and body,
-and his wishes shall be gratified.”
-
-Rudenfranck drew from his breast a parchment scroll, and the infatuated
-Adolf, with his own blood, subscribed to his eternal ruin.
-
-“Take of my treasures,” said the sceptre, “what thou would’st have, and
-use it as thou wilt. In exchange for the gift of thy soul, contained in
-this writing, thou shalt have full access to my treasure. But, mark me.
-Seven years are granted unto thee, at the close of which time, thou must
-return, and pay thy homage to the lord of these realms.”
-
-“And myself?” asked Rudenfranck, “shall I not reap the harvest for which
-I have labored? Recollect thy promises made me in Germany.”
-
-“They are thine,” said the spirit. “This sceptre controls the fiercest
-demons. Take it. Return to thy native land, and revel in the possession
-of all earthly wisdom, riches, and power. But when thy date of life has
-again expired, seek not to renew it. It is enough. Dismiss me.”
-
-“Depart to thy place, accursed spirit,” said the hunter. The spirit of
-Bructorix descended, and the phantoms hastened to pile the vases of gold
-and jewels outside of the brazen gate, until the first grey light of the
-dawn began to glimmer through the clouds. Instantly, the gorgeous scene
-disappeared, and the cavern resumed its original appearance. Adolf and
-Rudenfranck, loading themselves with gold, carefully filled up the mouth
-of the cavern with rocks and brushwood, and returned warily, homeward.
-
-
- Chapter VII.
-
-The guests of the preceding day were assembled in the farm house of
-Philip Mullerhorn, eagerly awaiting the arrival of Adolf. Old Mullerhorn
-went frequently to the door, and looked out, with anxiety, down the road
-which Adolf usually took when he visited the farm.
-
-“I fear all is not right with him,” said he. “Adolf is late in coming
-this morning. He should have been here a full hour before this.”
-
-“Peradventure,” snuffled Chriss, “the young man has fled, doubting
-whether he could make good his boasts of yesterday.”
-
-“Not so fast, my good friend,” said the voice of Adolf himself, who then
-entered, bearing in his hand a valise, evidently containing articles of
-weight. “We shall soon prove whose boasts shall be first accomplished.”
-As he spoke, he threw the valise upon the table, before Mullerhorn, “I
-am come,” said he, “Father Philip, to receive my bride.”
-
-“Heavens!” said Barbara, earnestly regarding the countenance of Adolf,
-“what has thus blanched thy brow, and changed thy visage? Thy cheek is
-ghastly, and thy look unearthly! Why glares thine eye so wildly? What
-hast thou done? The light of thine eye is not from heaven! Holy Virgin!
-the cave! the cave!” cried she, fainting.
-
-“Adolf, what ails thee?” asked Mullerhorn. “Thy brow is indeed pale, and
-thine eye fierce and blood-shot. Thou comest from no holy work this
-morning. Hadst thou the whole treasure of earth, no daughter of mine,
-Adolf Westerbok, should’st thou wed, until the secret of thy conduct is
-explained.”
-
-“It is nothing,” said Adolf, stammering as he spoke, “a weariness—a
-sickness—it will soon be over.”
-
-“I fear the mark on thy brow is of no earthly malady. Remain here no
-longer. Depart from us, for thy society is not for that of Christian
-men.”
-
-“I come to claim my bride!” cried Adolf, hoarsely, “and to pay the
-dower. No man shall prevent me from this. Why gaze ye thus on me? Stand
-back; the man who interferes in this shall rue his intrusion. Barbara,
-dear Barbara, you cannot, do not thus repulse me?”
-
-“Adolf,” said Barbara, gaining courage, and her voice before faltering,
-becoming firm and steady, “depart from me. All is now explained. Thy
-anxiety of last evening; thy expedition to the cave of Schwearenheim;
-all is explained. Barbara Mullerhorn may have loved thee, and she did
-so; but she will never consent to be the bride of a forsaken wretch like
-thee.”
-
-A sudden exclamation from Piet Albrecht attracted the attention of all
-present, and aroused Adolf from the stupor into which the words of
-Barbara had thrown him. The room was filled with a rich, purple light,
-in which the figure of Rudenfranck, arrayed in his magical vestures, and
-holding the ivory sceptre of Bructorix, appeared to the terrified
-spectators. Well might they be terrified; for upon the brow of the
-hunter a brilliant star gleamed brightly with a sulphurous light, and
-his tall figure seemed to dilate to superhuman size.
-
-“Why dost thou stare at me?” sneered Rudenfranck to Adolf, who gazed
-upon him with a bewildered look; “why dost thou stare at me? Produce thy
-treasure and claim thy bride.”
-
-“No! no bride of hell!” shouted Mullerhorn. “I doubted this yesterday.
-Away from us, Adolf Westerbok; and thou, mysterious being, whether thou
-be phantom or devil, in the name of God I defy thee.”
-
-“And see,” cried Mienckel, tearing open the valise, “what is here?”
-
-“Old chips of iron and leather, as I live,” said Albrecht. “It is the
-Evil One. Let us fly from here, else we die!”
-
-Adolf gazed wildly at the valise, and with a loud cry of despair, seized
-his rifle, and vainly endeavored to destroy himself.
-
-“Ha! ha!” laughed Rudenfranck, “thou hast yet seven years to enjoy thy
-gold. These are the treasures for which thou hast forfeited thy soul.
-Miserable fool! Did’st thou think it mattered to me whether thy fate was
-prosperous or not! Into the snare thou did’st enter of thine own accord,
-and thou must pay the penalty. Farewell! My ends are accomplished! For
-the prescribed space of my life, wealth, wisdom, and power in the
-fullest are mine! That space expired, I will mock at thee in the halls
-of the fiend. This sacrifice of thy soul hath ensured my success, and I
-thank thee for it. Farewell, Adolf Westerbok. Fool! idiot! driveller!
-Thou hast thy hire, and I triumph over the world of spirits.”
-
-As he spoke, he waved his magic sceptre. The cloud enveloped him in its
-folds, and he disappeared, with a laugh of malicious scorn.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Barbara Mullerhorn survived the misfortunes which had attended her early
-love, and lived to marry a wealthy farmer of the neighborhood, who
-proved himself every way worthy of her choice.
-
-Piet and Agatha also entered upon the matrimonial engagement, and their
-descendants may still be found among the hills.
-
- * * * * *
-
-For some years after, a wan, gaunt, and ragged wretch might have been
-seen toiling and digging incessantly along the range of the Wolf Hills.
-The fire of lunacy burned in his eye, he spoke to no one, and never
-uttered language, save in his insane self-communings. The neighbors
-universally shunned him, and no charitable voice soothed his misery. He
-dwelt in the gloomy cave by the run, where the unholy rites of
-Rudenfranck had been celebrated. His sole occupation consisted in a
-continual search after hidden treasure.
-
-Seven years had elapsed since the occurrences above narrated, were
-reported to have taken place, when a hunter, pursuing his game among the
-Wolf Hills, accidentally discovered the dead body of a man, shockingly
-torn and mangled, at the entrance of the cavern of the recluse. It was
-the corpse of Adolf Westerbok, the Silver Digger of the Wolf Hills.
-
-
- NOTE.
-
- This legendary tale, we learn, is founded upon a superstitious
- tradition, still current among the backwoodsmen of Pennsylvania.
- The outline of the tale is preserved as far as the nature of the
- legend would permit. The cavern is yet to be seen, where the
- hidden treasures are supposed to have been concealed; and the
- hardy hunter of the mountains still regards it with fear, and
- prefers taking a long circuit through the woods, to passing the
- cavern after nightfall. The whole country, indeed, is full of
- such traditions, which only require the pen of a Scott to be
- perpetuated, alike for the amusement and wonder of posterity.
- Let no man say that America is without legendary lore, let no
- one deny that she affords materials for poetry! Every hill;
- every stream; every valley; every plain has its own wild story
- of border troubles, or Indian traditions. When shall _our_
- minstrel arise to hallow them in undying song?—Eds.
-
- Mt. Savage, Md. January, 1841.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- SKATING.
-
-
- “The winter has come, and the skaters are here.”
-
- BY GEORGE LUNT.
-
-
- The earth is white with gleaming snow,
- The lake one sheet of silver lies,
- Beneath the morning’s ruddy glow,
- The steaming vapors gently rise.
-
- Keen is the cool and frosty air,
- That waves the pine trees on the hill,
- And voiceless as a whispered prayer,
- Breathes down the valley clear and still.
-
- Come, ’tis an hour to stir the blood
- To glowing life in every vein!
- Up,—for the sport is keen and good
- Across the bright and icy plain.
-
- On each impatient foot to-day,
- The ringing steel again we’ll bind,
- And o’er the crystal plain away,
- We’ll leave the world and care behind.
-
- And, oh! what joy is ours to play,
- In rapid, round, and swift career,
- And snatch beneath the wintry day,
- One moment’s rest, and hasty cheer.
-
- Then, when the brief, sweet day is done,
- And stars above begin to blink,
- As home the swift lake bears us on,
- Our sweethearts meet us on the brink.
-
- Then gather’d round the cheerful blaze,
- While gusts without are blowing shrill,
- With laugh, and jest, and merry lays,
- We pass the jocund evening still.
-
- Around the board our feats all told,
- Comes nature’s welcome hour of rest,
- And slumbers never bought with gold,
- Sit light on each untroubled breast.
-
- No lagging pulse impedes our sleep,
- No startling dreams our couch annoy,
- But health and peace, in quiet deep,
- Smile hovering round the country boy.
-
- Then, when the morning bright and clear,
- Springs gayly o’er the glistening hill,
- With hardy sports we hail it near,
- Or hardy labors bless it still.
-
- Newburyport, Massachusetts, January, 1841.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- THE SYRIAN LETTERS.
-
-
- WRITTEN PROM DAMASCUS, BY SERVILIUS PRISCUS OF CONSTANTINOPLE, TO HIS
- KINSMAN, CORNELIUS DRUSUS, RESIDING AT ATHENS, AND BUT NOW TRANSLATED.
-
-
- Damascus.
-
- Servilius to Cornelius—Greeting:
-
-Your reply to my last epistle, my dear Cornelius, was the more pleasing,
-because so unexpected.
-
-The speed of its transmission shows the great measure of our obligation
-to the sagacity and enterprise of Constantine. For who, until our
-emperor bent to it the considerations of his active mind, ever knew of
-such rapidity of communication?
-
-In the fair lines before me, I again greet the face of a friend, and
-hold cheering communion with one divided by long distance. I promised in
-my last to give you some description of the curious ceremonies of those
-worshippers, and I find you are urgent that I should fulfil it, since I
-was so fortunate as to witness some of the hidden mysteries.
-
-You esteem it strange that I, a foreigner, and but a few hours in
-Baalbec, should have stood at once upon such good terms with Mobilius,
-as to have induced him to conduct me to one of the most secret recesses
-of the temple—with all the perils of exposure through my carelessness.
-I have nothing to offer in answer to your surmise but conjecture.
-Mobilius was certainly upon some familiar footing with the priests, and
-perhaps being partly moved by the hope that the imposing magnificence of
-the ceremonial would win a convert to his creed, he ventured to
-introduce me. If such was his anticipation, how signally in error! how
-vain to fancy that the sense can blind the judgment! that the splendor
-of the cloud that curtains some yawning chasm in the mountain side, can
-be mistaken for the solid pathway.
-
-The sun had long gone down beneath the dizzy peaks of Lebanon, indeed
-night had far advanced, when Lactantius, Mobilius, and myself, properly
-arrayed in dark vestments, sallied toward the temple of the sun. Hurried
-along at a rapid pace, for he feared we had tarried too long, we soon
-came in view of the temple’s towering portico, which may still be seen
-by the curious stranger, even in the absence of the moon; for
-ever-burning lamps, filled, as they say, by never-failing oil, hang
-beneath the architrave. Entering at the great door, we were stopped by
-the porter, but recognising Mobilius, he permitted us to pass, without
-farther scrutiny, though he was evidently displeased; for although I
-could not clearly distinguish what he spoke, I heard him mutter angrily
-in the Syrian tongue.
-
-We did not cross the grand courts, which, like the portico, were filled
-with perpetual lamps, but hastened through low corridors, vaults, and
-crooked passages, which might defy the skill of man to retrace, but
-Mobilius seemed well accustomed to them, so that I inferred he had acted
-as a guide on more than one occasion. After endless windings, we came
-into an archway, faintly lighted from without, and proceeding farther,
-entered a dark room. Here we were obliged to grope our way, and were
-commanded by Mobilius to tread with the utmost caution. We speedily,
-however, came to a spot, from which we beheld the great floor of the
-temple, through a narrow opening, artfully concealed in one of the
-ornaments of the entablature. All was still.
-
-“Earlier than I expected,” whispered Mobilius, “the ceremonies have not
-yet begun.”
-
-This leisure enabled me to examine the exquisite architecture of the
-edifice.
-
-The temple was the loftiest of all those that surrounded it, and which
-had their position and style of architecture in strict reference to
-this, as their great centre. The roof was of marble, and I could clearly
-distinguish, by the lamps around, the delicacy and lightness of its
-mouldings, pannels, and compartments. In the centre was a sun, carved in
-the full glory of his rays: marshalled at equal distances, surrounded by
-its sculptured edge, and sunk deeply into the marble, like a picture in
-its frame, were the heads of Venus, or as this people designate her, the
-“Syrian Goddess,” and also of Jupiter and other deities; and if I do not
-err, I could discern, constellated like the rest, the heads of
-Antoninus, and of other Roman emperors.
-
-The marble walls were carved with niches and tabernacles disposed in two
-rows, which were filled with statues, between the floor and the roof,
-and supporting the latter, stood pilasters and columns of the same order
-as those which sustain the architrave.
-
-Upon the tesselated pavement in the centre of the temple was erected a
-gorgeous altar, composed in part of precious metals, and of rare and
-various marbles, tastefully inlaid, and yet all designed in conformity
-with the strict rules of the architect. The fires upon it threw a
-reddened glow upon the walls and pillars, and a representation of the
-sun seemingly illumined from within, by a mildly burning light, whether
-real or unsubstantial, I cannot say, hovered above the altar, resembling
-the undulating brightness which the agitated waters in the vase cast
-upon the tapestry, or the flickering pale reflection of the moonbeams on
-the ground, as they struggle through the trembling leaves. My thoughts
-now reverted to the ceremonies we had come to witness, and some
-perplexing fancies, in spite of resolution, stole upon me. First, the
-brief acquaintance of Mobilius; the knowledge that Lactantius was a
-Christian, and his increased apparent dislike of that form of worship,
-since Constantine had threatened to close the temples of his faith; and
-Lactantius had expressed a hope it might be so, and the fact that there
-was, unquestionably, a connection between Mobilius and some of the
-priests. But again I thought could he be so base as to delude and betray
-those who had reposed such confidence, and would not his fears prevent,
-if he even would, because of the certainty of detection? While these
-reflections were flashing through my mind, the soft mingling of many
-voices swelling into the full pitch of harmony, and then sinking and
-dying as if wafted away upon the wings of the wind, broke the spell, and
-aroused my attention. Such clear, rich, enrapturing melody, I never
-heard, even surpassing that which floated from the shores of Cyprus; and
-a thrill of pain ran through my veins as it suddenly ceased, just as if
-you were to dash a harp into pieces in the midst of its sweetest
-outpourings.
-
-“What means this?” I whispered, but a low murmur from Mobilius brought
-me to instant silence. Directly I heard a silvery ringing voice swell
-forth a chaunting note, and all the voices fell in one by one, with
-sweet and heavenly accord, until the lofty temple echoed and re-echoed
-with the sounds.
-
-The great door then sprang asunder—without the jarring of a hinge—by
-some imperceptible agency, revealing in magnificent array, numerous
-ranks of priests, clothed in vestments of the costliest dyes, and
-walking to the sound of instruments, with measured tread, in glittering
-procession. Some bore many of the symbols of their faith—such as the
-heifer’s head—the crescent, the golden bull—some ears of corn, others
-silver torches, when ascending the altar steps, they lit them at its
-fires, which threw into still brighter effulgence, the dazzling
-ornaments of the priests, and all the solemn pageants. This was, as
-Mobilius whispered, the splendid ceremonial which precedes the great
-sacrifice. Now came a bewildering and elaborate observance of the usual
-ceremonies, but so numerous and complicated, that it were tedious to
-recount them, if I even could.
-
-After a little the music was again heard, both of instruments and
-voices, swelling, blending, and pouring forth the same entrancing
-harmonies. The priests, in three rows, circling round the altar, sent up
-a swelling chaunt, and in a moment, as it were, with the quickness of
-lightning, three bright fires sprang from the different portions of the
-altar-top, so brilliant, as that for many seconds, I was not able to
-discern a vestige of what I had just seen. At this, Mobilius, taking us
-by the hand, said, “we must depart,” and led us by a different route
-from that through which we entered. At one place, in suddenly opening
-the gate, at the end of a long passage, I was startled by a flood of
-light, illuminating a colonnade, which seemed to lead into a
-subterraneous passage, plainly connected with another temple. We shortly
-reached the great door itself, and glided through the portico, seemingly
-unobserved, though I doubt not it was guarded by some unseen janitor. We
-now emerged into the open air, and hurried rapidly on. Upon turning to
-take a parting glance at the temple, my eye was riveted in deep and
-reverential admiration. The moon was at a towering height, and shone
-down clear and silvery. Not a cloud spotted the heavens, nor the
-bright-eyed stars, that like watch-lights, palely burnt around her. No
-sound disturbed the silence of the night, except the faintly dying note
-of a trumpet, as it softly echoed from some far, far distant battlement,
-or the rattling of some chariot wheels in its progress homeward, from
-the banquet of the wealthy Heliopolitan, which lingered for a moment on
-the ear, then was lost forever.
-
-The lights upon the temple paled away in the eternal brightness of the
-queen of night, throwing the portico in bold relief, as if it were
-covered with a mantle of snow, and casting its deep recesses into the
-shades of midnight. Beside the temple rose a grove, bathed in a silvery
-flood of light, and the tall obelisks, which being but faintly visible
-among the foliage, stood like spectres, and upon steady contemplation,
-appeared to stir from the place of their foundation, such is the power
-of fancy.
-
-I turned; my companions were gone. They had passed on unheeded, and I
-wandered as I best could toward the mansion of Septimus.
-
-The gorgeous streets of this great city, lined, as they were, with
-marble palaces and temples, and thronged but a few hours since with the
-gay, the beautiful maiden of Heliopolis, or the busy wayfarer, were now
-as silent as the place of tombs. The cold beams of the pale moon shone
-still undimmed and uninterrupted, save here and there by a projecting
-shade or darkling grove, whose loftiest boughs closely interweaving,
-reared a verdant arch, revealing now and then through the thick foliage,
-the night’s illumined heaven, and its cold azure depths. So I wandered,
-cheered at intervals by the soft murmur of the fountains among the
-trees, whose waters sparkled in the moonbeams.
-
-This grove was ornamented with statues, and verily, I believe, of all
-the Gods in the Pantheon, among which was Mars, whose highly polished
-shield shone like another moon.
-
-Now completely lost, I found myself near one of the city gates, and
-hearing an approaching footstep, I recognised a citizen, some gay
-Heliopolitan, I supposed, returning from a midnight banquet.
-
-“Can you tell me,” I enquired, “in what direction lies the house of
-Septimus?”
-
-“Oh! readily,” he answered, “I will go with you, for it stands nearly in
-my path. I perceive, my friend, you are a stranger, and we dare not
-break our ancient rule of friendship.” Thanking him for his kindness, we
-proceeded forward, and I found him a communicative and entertaining
-companion.
-
-“Pray,” said I, “what noble edifice is that immediately before us, now
-silvered by the moon?”
-
-“That is the temple of fortune, erected many years ago, after some
-signal benefit had fallen on the city, through the beneficence of the
-Gods. It is the work of the lamented Epamenides, his first, his last
-design,” and he appeared much affected by the reflection. He continued,
-“behold the proportions.”
-
-I no longer doubted but that my friend was some young architect,
-enthusiastic in his profession, and not being able to understand his
-learned phrases, endeavored to divert the conversation.
-
-“In what you say I cordially concur, but what is fame and fortune since
-but a few lustres must snatch us from their enjoyment, though they be
-the highest and the brightest which the generosity and admiration of our
-countrymen can award? Man toils much ere he reaps, so that if the
-harvest is not scanty it is ours for the enjoyment of but a brief
-space.”
-
-“You do not draw your conclusion,” said he, “after the manner of the
-model of all that is great in reason and philosophy. Were the votary to
-hold such doctrines as these, he would never reach the fires, however
-ardently he might fix his gaze upon them; he would never attain the
-consummation of his burning wishes. But he would reason after this
-manner—toil would be well were the goal worth the reaching. So mark the
-inconsistency.”
-
-Although not convinced, I was compelled, forsaking my former conjecture,
-to conclude that the stranger was some eminent philosopher of
-Heliopolis, so ingeniously did he argue. Though I thought it could not
-be of so severe a school as some sternly avow.
-
-Walking a little, we met a man in the agonies of a strange sickness.
-Here I fancied will be afforded an opportunity of testing the truth of
-my conjecture—for philosophers, especially those of the present day,
-are ever ready to prescribe both for afflictions of body and of mind
-precepts which they are most rarely in the habit of practising
-themselves. But I was again mistaken, for, taking the sick man by the
-hand, he examined his pulse, and closely scrutinised his features, upon
-this abstracting a small casket, containing medicines, from his robes,
-he administered a portion, and its good effects were wonderful. All
-conjecture was now put to flight; for I at once decided that my new
-friend was a disciple of Hippocrates.
-
-How fruitless is all surmise, for he afterward informed me he was a
-member of the forum, and held an office under the emperor. This brought
-me to the widely spreading portal of Septimus—which almost seemed to
-welcome me after my absence. I met Lactantius pacing to and fro the hall
-with Mobilius, as if theirs had been an intimacy of months. “Ah!” said
-the latter, “we were about sallying out for you—but yet knew it would
-prove of no avail in such a city as this.”
-
-“Welcome,” exclaimed Lactantius, “I was anxious on your account. How
-came you to leave us?”
-
-“I did not leave you—it was you who left me—doubtless in the heat of
-controversy upon the Chaldean mysteries.”
-
-“I understand your meaning, Servilius,” said he, smiling, “but how came
-you here at all; you are not acquainted with the streets of Baalbec,
-especially by moonlight?”
-
-“Through the kindness,” I replied, “of Apicius.”
-
-“You are fortunate,” ejaculated Mobilius, “and should deposite your
-offering to-morrow in the temple of fortune, as is the custom here. He
-is the first of statesmen and advocates; an accomplished orator, and a
-very generous and learned citizen. If he pressed you to visit him at his
-palace, you are still more fortunate.”
-
-“And so he did,” I rejoined.
-
-It proved as Mobilius predicted, for I did not meet a kinder or more
-noble-hearted friend than this same Heliopolitan.
-
-“As it is late,” observed Lactantius, “we will seek our couches, and
-to-morrow,” archly glancing at Mobilius, “we may examine the Egyptian
-mysteries.”
-
-But I must draw to a conclusion, least I should sketch this epistle to a
-tedious length. I bid you an affectionate
-
- Farewell.
-
- * * *
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- THE SOUL’S DESTINY.
-
-
- BY MRS. M. S. B. DANA.
-
-
- And oh! the soul! she saw in visions bright,
- The veil withdrawn which hides the world of light,
- With eye of faith she gazed in tearful joy,
- And they were there! her husband and her boy!
- Sweet hope of Heaven! thou art a healing balm—
- If storms arise thy deep rich holy calm
- Comes with a spirit influence to the breast,
- And to the weary mourner whispers “rest!”
- Rest—for the fondly loved, the early dead!
- Rest—for the longing spirit Heavenward fled!
- Rest—from a tiresome path in weakness trod!
- Rest—in the bosom of the Saviour, God!
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- THE SACCHARINEOUS PHILOSOPHY.
-
-
-“Her ‘prentice han’ she try’d on man, and then she made the _Lasses_ O.”
-
-
-Gentle reader—art thou fond of molasses? Not only molasses in its
-simple state, but in its various compounds? If thou art not I pity thee.
-Thy taste relishes not that which would otherwise be a source of
-inexpressible pleasure. Eatables may be divided into the two great
-classes of the sweet and the sour. From the full enjoyment of at least
-one-half then of the good things of life (and that the better half) art
-thou deprived. Again I pity thee.
-
-But some may say, that although not lovers of molasses or sugar, (as I
-shall consider them the same in this essay,) yet they are really very
-fond of many sweet things. They like a portion of the saccharine, though
-not fond of the gross and clogged sweetness of molasses. Let such,
-however, think not of escaping in this manner. What! like a thing in
-part and not in fulness—like the rose-bud and not the open rose—like
-an amiable and not a perfectly angelic being—like five dollars and not
-five hundred—like middling and not good health—like imperfect and not
-perfect happiness—like strawberries and cream, and not sugar or
-molasses—I tell thee, man, woman, or child—Caucasian, African, or
-Malay, thou art crazy, bewitched, or tasteless.
-
-How shall I describe the delicious sensations which the saccharine
-matter imparts to the outward man? Alike in fruit, and flower, and
-honey-comb most gratefully apparent. And thou, ice-cream! who has so
-often diffused throughout the body of this “me,” a most delicious
-coolness, what wouldst thou be without that essence, whose merits I am
-exalting? Insipid and unmeaning, like unto a flower without color or
-fragrance.
-
-Oh! how well can I remember the time, when, released from school, I
-hastened home, and, sitting on the kitchen door-sill, enjoyed my bread
-and molasses. I never felt more thankful than when, plate in hand, and a
-huge slice of the wheat loaf in reserve, the preparatory pause was made
-“according to the good order used among friends.” And then, also the
-“switchel,” that nutritious and cooling drink, (molasses and water, with
-a _little_ vinegar,) with which our revolutionary fathers quenched their
-thirst, when rooting up their ditch on old Bunker. Even the horrid tales
-told me in childhood by the pestered servants, of thumbs, and fingers,
-and bloody streaks, the evidence of cruel treatment in the Indian isles,
-turned not the edge of my keen desire.
-
-But I shall no longer occupy paper with the advocacy of the merely
-sensual claims of molasses. It has other and higher demands upon your
-notice. The author of this lately perused, with pleasure, that most
-important work upon “The Philosophy of Clothes,” by Thomas Carlyle. It
-suggested an interesting train of thoughts upon the subject before us.
-Molasses, and its kindred sweets are the well fitting garments of the
-spirit of love and purity. Here then we have an unfailing index by which
-to judge of the characters of our fellow men. Herein is contained the
-germ of our new and spiritual philosophy.
-
-Charles Lamb in his “Elia,” quotes and endorses the sentiment of one of
-his friends: “that no man be entirely reprobate who is fond of
-apple-dumplings.” This I grant to be true. He did not, however, remember
-that both the apples and the dumplings contain a portion of saccharine
-matter; and this accounts _partly_ for the dislike felt toward them by a
-reprobate spirit. And again—who ever heard of eating apple-dumplings
-without sugar or molasses? I therefore bring Charles Lamb, who, although
-he did not perceive the great _principle_ coiled up in this succulent
-eatable, has taken notice of the above interesting _fact_, as a witness
-to the truth of my theory.
-
-When do we find that the love of all sweet things most commonly
-prevails? In youth undoubtedly. When the mind is pure, free from worldly
-guile, innocent, and _lamb_-like. When the fresh and untainted spirit
-drinks eagerly and deeply at the fount of truth, and its type or
-representative on earth (according to Swedenborg) pure water. Then,
-sugar-plumes are a delight—ginger-bread a blessing—molasses candy,
-especially when rolled and pulled out into sticks, _bright_ or _dull_
-yellow, according to the cleanliness of the maker’s hands, “the staff of
-life.”
-
-The child becomes a man. He grows selfish and proud. He loses his relish
-for innocent enjoyments, and with it his taste for molasses. The spirit
-of love becomes impregnated with impure desires, and his outward man
-changes accordingly. The saccharine matter no longer suits him in its
-natural state—it must be fermented, and gases added, and gases
-deducted, to correspond with the altered soul. What a beautiful emblem
-is this change of saccharine substance to the poisonous liquor, of the
-transition state of the immortal in man. First the spirit as in
-childhood, pure and gentle, like the sweet juice of the grape. Then
-youth, with its noble and generous bearing, comparable to the result of
-the first fermentation. Manhood comes on, and with it the fermentation
-proceeds. Soon the soul is agitated with innumerable gases—and from
-their bubblings, and combinations, and effervescence, it comes forth a
-new creature. Well satisfied are most if they go no farther than this,
-but succeed in calming the troubled elements at this second
-fermentation. While some, unable to arrest their progress, plunge into
-the third and woful state; from which, if they succeed in coming out,
-they appear all soured, and be-vinegared, your universal fault-finders
-and found-fault-with. Too many, alas! emerge not even at this third
-gate, but dash recklessly into the fourth, the last and worst, and
-hope-decaying state—and when dragged through it, are cast out with the
-blessed feelings of childhood putrified—the flesh rotted off, and
-exposing the then loathsome skeleton of the soul, the never to be
-destroyed framework of an eternal nature.
-
-How beautiful also the resemblance in another sense. Wherever you meet
-the poison fire, under whatever name it may assume, whether brandy, gin,
-whiskey, wine, cider, or beer, as you are confident that the innocent
-sugar must have been its basis; so in whatever form you meet vice in the
-human heart, you may be also assured, that there was, and perhaps is
-yet, in that heart a stronger or weaker basis of God-like love.
-
-Although the good, spiritually, is to be considered the cause of the
-liking for the saccharineous, yet they are to some extent mutually
-creative. The outward may appeal so strongly as even to produce the
-inward. “Hang up a coat in the highway, and will it not soon find a body
-to fill it?” Who has not often observed the child when requested by its
-parents to swallow the bitter dose of (so called) medicine? What a
-struggle between duty and disgust! What measures are then taken by the
-wise parent in order that the right may conquer? How is the virtuous
-appealed to and strengthened? One single lump of sugar, perhaps not
-larger than a hickory nut decides the question. Duty prevails. How shall
-we account for such things without adopting a similar doctrine to that
-which I have thus partly illustrated?
-
-Reader, thou wilt believe or not, as thou choosest. But before this is
-dismissed as unworthy, for thy own sake, examine facts. Find among thy
-acquaintances, that man, sullen, and morose, and cruel, who loves
-molasses. Understand me—_loves_ molasses—not who sometimes eats it,
-but who clings to it with a passionate devotion—who prefers it to the
-best pie ever baked, apple, mince, peach, or cranberry,—as I do. If
-thou canst find such a being—thou thinkest I’ll recant? Not I. Such a
-man is an anomaly, a monster, deserves not to live—and if he knows what
-a beautiful theory he is practically marring, and has the least spark of
-generosity within him, is willing to die. If he wont die I care
-not,—he’s only an exception, and “proves the truth of the general
-rule,” as all metaphysicians will tell thee.
-
-If it were needful I could skip from individuals to nations—could prove
-the truth of my doctrines by referring to the Irish with their potatoes,
-buttermilk, and whiskey—the Hindoo and his rice—the West Indian slave
-with his patient endurance, the result of his frequent sucking at the
-juicy cane.
-
-But why multiply proof? Why refer to the bee with his industrious
-habits, caused by living entirely upon honey—the bear with his good
-nature, hugging you, even when in anger, to his bosom, how he also likes
-sweet things—the humming-bird, with its love for the sweets of
-flowers—the—but why instance more?
-
-Oh! ye wise, give ear while I call your attention to this new
-philosophy, which I name saccharine, and not transcendental. Parents,
-guardians, physicians, nurses,—“they that have ears to hear let them
-hear.”
-
- Ella.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- WINTER.
-
-
- BY J. W. FORNEY.
-
-
- The leaf hath fallen!
- E’en the withered leaf; and from the trees
- Hath faded Nature’s robe of living green;
- While, thro’ their naked boughs the wintry breeze,
- Makes mournful music o’er the vanished scene—
- The funeral requiem of those blushing flowers,
- That bloomed and flaunted in the sunny air,
- When the coy spring-time and her laughing hours,
- The graceful monarchs of the season were.
-
- The song is hushed!
- And gone those warblers for a softer clime,
- Whose morning welcome, and whose evening hymn
- Made the gay summer but a trysting time,
- And prayerful music poured aloft to Him!
-
- No more they usher, with their mellow song,
- The bright-eyed morning beaming through the cloud—
- Where erst they met, in bright melodious throng,
- Now roars the tempest in its wrath aloud.
-
- The brook is frozen!
- The babbling streamlet sparkles now no more
- In the full glory of the sun’s warm beam;
- The ice-king’s sceptre has been wafted o’er,
- And sleep is brooding on the modest stream.
- There are no flowers on its frozen side—
- The sun shines only with a cheerless glance:
- Still is its melody; and the valley’s pride,
- Is calm as Beauty in a pleasing trance.
-
- Lancaster, Pa. January, 1841.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- THE CONFESSIONS OF A MISER.
-
-
- BY J. ROSS BROWNE.
-
-
- Part I.
-
- One who dothe hymself professe to be the teller of a hystorye,
- must often be contente to doe that whych in annye other
- character he would be ashamed to owne to. He must unryddle
- thoughts, telle tales, spake of factes done pryrilye and not for
- worldlye showe.
-
- _A Legende of the Monasterye of Lylis._
-
-When life ceases to afford us gratification, we not unfrequently take a
-strange delight in reviewing and pondering over the misdeeds of the
-past, and in anticipating the weird and desolate future. This revelling
-in the consequences of our own depravity; this spirit of darkness and
-recklessness; this tendency to a defiance of all moral and religious
-consolation—when morality and religion no longer dwell within us—may
-be termed the wreck of hope, and life, and salvation; for as the
-mariner, engulphed by the tempest, faces death in boisterous revelry, so
-we seek to riot in our own wickedness, and plunge into perdition,
-rejoicing in the sin, and reckless of its consequences.
-
-Even while I write, the recollection of deeds which might well cause the
-blood to curdle and the flesh to crawl, thrills me with an awful and
-savage delight. The open gates of hell are ready to receive me, but I
-rejoice in anticipating the hour of eternal ruin!
-
-I am a native of Italy—a Venitian by birth; a wanderer by choice.
-During the political disturbances under the doge, Paolo Reniers, I
-obtained an office of considerable value; by which I was enabled to
-enjoy a handsome annuity. For some time the French forces, commanded by
-Bonaparte, had been endeavoring to take possession of Verona; and had
-already made some attempts on Venice; but these eruptions were if any
-thing the means of my promotion. Before the downfall of my patron, I
-acquired a fortune which placed me on a footing with the patricians of
-the day. Had heaven so ordained it, I might then have retired to my
-villa, and in peace and seclusion enjoyed the fruits of my industry; but
-the seeds of avarice were sown—I was destined to reap their harvest.
-The intrigues of political life were not sufficiently disgusting to
-deter me from applying for employment under the government, to the
-successor of Reniers. That wary craft which had rendered me so
-indispensable to this corrupt and imbecile monarch, was not overlooked
-by Lugi Manini; for in a country where duplicity is the chief point, in
-the education of individuals, to whom the official authority is
-entrusted; and where art and cunning are so universal as to render every
-man a match for his fellow, superiority of this kind is regarded with
-peculiar veneration.
-
-The satellites who swarmed about the court of Manini, were not slow in
-betraying their jealousy at the preference with which he regarded me;
-but where jealousy exists there is dissention; and even among my enemies
-I had my partisans. The rancor of political strife rendered me fierce
-and haughty; and few dared to avow their hostility in my presence.
-Hardened in dissimulation, I could at once assume the gentlest tones of
-friendship, or the most cutting sarcasm, and the coldest frown of
-dignity. Increase of influence gradually compelled those who at first
-resorted to the basest methods for my overthrow, to relinquish their
-attempts, and acquiesce in my measures.
-
-Power, however, was not my chimera. I had contracted an undying thirst
-for riches. I longed to regard myself as the master of millions. The
-very clink of gold was sweeter to me than the applause of an enraptured
-populace. Daily—hourly—my thoughts were concentrated on the darling
-object of my ambition. That cold and stern temperament, which, in my
-political schemes, had been fostered by every act of diplomacy, and
-every duty of my office, rendered me callous to all worldly allurements,
-save the desire of personal emolument.
-
-Constantly moving in the gaudy circles of the court, I was at once
-disgusted with the prodigal splendor of every thing around me, and
-incited to aspire for the most exalted degree of opulence. Those whose
-power was greater than mine, I merely looked upon as instruments by
-which the great object of my life was to be effected. Even Manini
-himself I did not consider in any other light than as one ultimately to
-be the means of my success. Deceit in the service of others had made me
-too wary a courtier not to cloak my designs in professions of the most
-disinterested friendship toward him who was already the tool of my
-machinations.
-
-The schemes were too well concerted to fail. A few years of untiring
-zeal found the doge still nominally my patron, but in reality my minion.
-Wealth had poured in upon me. No longer was the desire of riches a
-chimera; no longer had I to live in feverish and dreamy suspense; no
-longer was I fortune’s votary.
-
-Though in the prime of life, I too, passionately loved the possession of
-my gold, to violate in my enjoyment the strictest rules of economy. I
-gambled—but that was my business. I drank—but the excitement was
-necessary to sustain my vital principle.
-
-Having adhered to my victim till he was weak and worthless, I abandoned
-him for more lucrative game. I sought out the haunts of the young and
-inexperienced. I became a kind of polite sharper; for though I generally
-gambled for the riches of my victims, I so managed as to secure the
-spoils in defiance of ill-fortune.
-
-We all know that the peculiar vices of a man’s character increase in
-extent as his evil course of life is persisted in; even when that course
-is not more intrinsically depraved by continuance. It was the case with
-me. I did not actually rob; I did not murder; I committed no more
-heinous crime than that of swindling or gambling; and yet every day I
-became a worse and worse black-hearted man.
-
-Before this epoch in my career had drawn to a close, I became acquainted
-with the daughter of a Venitian banker. She was not beautiful; she was
-not accomplished; she was not amiable—but she was rich. At this time, I
-too, was rich. Both fortunes united would make a brilliant coalescence.
-I pressed my suit, and succeeded. The foolish girl did not discover till
-too late, that I despised herself, though I adored her fortune. My
-wealth was now immense; and it might be supposed that I was satisfied;
-but my thirst for accumulation was only excited by what I had already
-acquired. Had I been possessed of the world’s wealth, I am pursuaded I
-would have wept, like Alexander, because there was nothing left to
-satisfy my desires.
-
-That fortunate tissue of events which had hitherto marked my career, was
-destined to be speedily reversed. In Venice there lived at this time an
-individual, who, if he had not my boldness of purpose and capacity for
-scheming, was at least my equal in shrewdness and avarice. This person
-was called Carlo Dolci—a nomenclature which he boasted as certain
-evidence that he was descended from the great painter of that name.
-Dolci met me at my accustomed resort—one of those hells with which
-Venice then abounded. His appearance was peculiarly forbidding; but I
-fancied I had seen too much of the world to be prejudiced by mere
-outward show. We were introduced by a mutual friend. I found that my new
-acquaintance was a man of some knowledge, and of polished and persuasive
-manners. His characteristic trait was extreme cunning; nor did his grey,
-twinkling eye and piercing glance contradict what his manners and
-language bespoke.
-
-One topic led to another. We spoke of games. Dolci with his infernal
-art, flattered me out of all prudence, by declaring he had heard so much
-of my skill at play that he was determined to avoid strife in such an
-accomplished quarter. Fired with a desire to verify his words, I
-immediately challenged him. We began with moderate stakes, and I won. We
-doubled, and I still won. We continued to increase the stakes till they
-amounted to an immense sum. Both were equally excited; but my good
-fortune did not yet leave me. Dolci, I knew, was rich; and I was
-determined to fleece him. I doubled the largest stakes we had yet
-contended for. Dolci was the winner. Maddened at such an unusual
-reverse, I dared him to contend—fortune against fortune! Each now
-staked his entire wealth. It was to be riches or poverty to me. The
-swollen veins stood out on my forehead. A cold perspiration teemed from
-the brow of Carlo Dolci. His teeth were clenched; his hair wild and
-matted—his eye unusually haggard. The dice were thrown. I gasped for
-breath. A dimness came over my eyes. With a dreadful effort I strained
-them to catch a glimpse of my fate. Merciful God! I had lost—I was a
-beggar!
-
-With a grim smile, Dolci grasped the stakes. I rushed from the hell, a
-frenzied wretch. A mocking laugh was borne after me; and I knew no more.
-For several days I was a raving maniac. When I recovered my reason, I
-found myself stretched on a pallet in my own house. My wife stood by,
-with disgust and hatred pictured in her countenance. Her first words
-were those of contumely and reproach. She did not make any allowance for
-my situation; she reflected not that it was the province of the female
-to forgive error, and to administer consolation. I married her for her
-money; that was gone, and I now was to feel all the miseries of my
-choice.
-
-The only solace to my afflictions, was a little daughter about eight
-years old, but uncommonly mature both mentally and physically. She
-attended me with untiring assiduity; she lifted the cup to my lips; she
-soothed with her silvery tones the agony of my mind; she sang for me her
-plaintive airs; she bathed my burning temples; she prayed for me—she
-wept for me—she was every way the beau ideal of innocence and
-affection.
-
-“Father,” she would say, “why do you clench your hands—why do you rave
-of ruin and beggary? We shall all go to work when you recover; and we
-shall earn more money and be very happy.”
-
-Alas poor Valeria! she little knew the loss I had sustained. It was not
-the loss of luxury for that I never enjoyed; it was not the loss of
-domestic peace—for I was a stranger to it; it was not the loss of
-reputation, for I cared nothing about it; but it was the loss of
-MONEY—of that which gave the only zest and pleasure to my life.
-
-One mortification was spared us in our beggary. No splendid edifice was
-to be abandoned—no luxurious equipage to be sold—no servants to be
-dismissed—no fine costumes to be sacrificed—no sensitive feelings to
-be wounded by a change from affluence to penury and want; our condition
-remained unaltered. While blessed with riches I was too careful of them
-to be guilty of extravagance. My avarice, not my prodigality, was my
-ruin. I did not gamble for the pleasure of the game, but from sheer
-desire to accumulate immense sums of money. I then conducted my affairs
-on a grand scale. Wealth poured in on me not by degrees, but in floods.
-Now, however, the time arrived when I was doomed to begin a new career
-under new auspices. I had no Reniero or Manini to plunder by a few acts
-of political sagacity. I had no immense states to retrieve my want of
-luck with Carlo Dolci. To toil up the rugged path—to exert my humble
-acquirement—to trade—to barter—to beg—were now the only means in my
-power to make amends for want of prudence.
-
-Having settled my wife and daughter in a small house, I procured, partly
-on credit and partly with what little was left, a meagre stock of
-jewelry, with which I sallied out as a travelling pedlar. By adopting
-this course of life I sacrificed no fine feelings; I never was proud of
-any thing except of my riches. I considered not that because I had
-wielded an intriguing pen in the great contest between Bonaparte and
-Lugi Manini, my dignity would in any degree be lessened by honest
-exertions for the retrieval of my fortune.
-
-The succeeding epoch in my career may be passed over. To detail the
-vicissitudes of my wandering life—to dwell upon the manifold reverses
-of fortune—to trace succinctly the gradual and disheartening manner in
-which I acquired money—and to portray the eagerness—the infantile
-delight with which I grasped it and hoarded it to my bosom—would be
-alike futile and uninteresting.
-
-In struggling between penury and avarice, the autumn of my life passed
-away. The misery of connubial contention, I am persuaded, whitened the
-hair of my head, even before my winter had blasted it with its frosts;
-but heaven ordained it that my declining age should not be harassed by
-the persecutions of her with whom I had never known an hour of true
-happiness. She died in a fit of madness—a malady to which her
-passionate and ungovernable temper had frequently subjected her. It
-would be adding hypocrisy to my manifold sins to say that I regretted
-this instance of divine dispensation. I still had a
-companion—differently, but no less intimately dependent on me for her
-support and protection. This was my daughter, who had attained her
-eighteenth year.
-
-Valeria was beautiful—extremely beautiful. I had roamed in the
-Florentine and Venitian Vatican; I had studied, if not with the eye of
-an artist, at least with the eye of an ardent admirer, the most
-exquisite productions of Georgione, Titian, Correggio, and Veronese; I
-had dwelt in ecstacy on the master-works of every school from the
-Appellean and Protogenean, to the Lombard, the Bolognese, the Carraci,
-and the Rasain; but I had never seen any thing either ideal or
-substantial, so exquisitely symmetrical—so etherially chiselled in
-every feature—so thoroughly the impersonation of angelic beauty and
-sweetness, as Valeria. I speak it with a father’s pride; I may be
-partial, but I believe I am sincere. The dark, luxuriant hair—the
-languishing eye—the finely rounded arm—the faultless figure bespoke
-Italian blood; and that too of a gentle quality; for though I claim no
-distinction, I am myself of noble descent.
-
-In Valeria, then, I saw my future fortune. I had sufficient to support
-life; but I desired wealth. To sell my daughter to the best advantage
-was now the sole and engrossing subject of my thoughts. I cared not
-whether I gained her an honorable alliance or not; money, not titular
-distinction, was the object for which I determined she should be
-sacrificed.
-
-There lived in Venice, at this time, a Neapolitan nobleman, of agreeable
-and accomplished manners, and fine fortune, named Don Ferdinand Razzina,
-upon whom I had long looked as the instrument by which my schemes were
-to be consummated. Razzina was young and volatile. His imprudence
-rendered him easily subservient to my machinations. By the most
-consummate art I managed that he should get a glimpse at Valeria. This
-proved sufficient stimulus to an ardent imagination, to fire him with
-the most extravagant notions of her beauty. He had barely seen her as a
-flitting shadow: that shadow surpassed to him in loveliness the beau
-ideal of his airiest dreams. I knew too much of the human heart not to
-concert my measures on the fact that mystery is the food of love; and in
-a very short time Don Ferdinand was supplicating at my feet for
-information concerning the fairy vision he had seen.
-
-“Nothing,” said he, “shall be spared in remuneration for your services.
-I love her. I shall never love another. My peace and happiness for ever
-more depend on her. If you respect the passions common to humanity; if
-you are not devoid of every feeling of sympathy; if you value your own
-welfare, and my peace of mind—procure me an interview!”
-
-Schooled in cunning, I treated the matter with indifference; I dwelt on
-other themes—but finding Don Ferdinand deaf to aught, save the
-engrossing object of his thoughts, I consented to introduce him, on an
-enormous advance, to my daughter. He seemed much surprised at this
-declaration; for he had fancied—from what cause I know not—that
-Valeria was my protege, and the unfortunate pledge of some noble amour.
-In a moment the truth of my schemes burst upon him. He was
-young—ardent—impetuous—but he neither wanted penetration nor
-humanity.
-
-“Wretch!” he cried, with all the indignant fervor of one unaccustomed to
-such unnatural cupidity—“you would sell your daughter’s honor!—you
-would ruin her for your own emolument!” He paused in agitation for some
-moments, during which I maintained a grim and stony smile—then
-continued, “but your villainy is nothing to me. I shall not upbraid you
-for what turns to my own advantage. Here is the sum. Recollect, however,
-_we perfectly understand each other as to the terms_.” I answered merely
-by a leering nod of the head. Razzina departed—promising to call on the
-ensuing evening.
-
-That short but active interview had laid bare the character of the noble
-prodigal. He was evidently gifted with no common intellect. He had seen
-little of the world; so that whatever sagacity he had was inherent. Much
-good was mixed with the evil which formed his prominent traits. He was
-young and passionate; but he had no small share of the milk and honey of
-human kindness. His opinions respecting my course I regarded with
-contempt. I had studied too deeply the mysteries of human nature to be
-baulked in my designs by a beardless and soft-hearted youth. I knew that
-the bait was too well administered to be rejected.
-
-Returning to a miserable garret in which I always slept to avoid the
-expense of furnishing the lower part of the house, and also to enjoy the
-solitude, I flung myself on a pallet, and spread the gold on the floor.
-
-A filthy lamp threw a sickly and flickering light on every thing around.
-The wretched place was strewn with rubbish and dirt; here and there lay
-a broken stool, or the remains of a chair; in the centre stood a greasy
-and ricketty table, and hung up in confusion, on the walls, were
-battered tin-cups—a few platters—a spoutless coffee-pot—and sundry
-tattered habiliments.
-
-I glanced around me with a smile of sinister meaning. I piled up the
-gold—threw it down again—and scattered it about, and grasped it once
-more with childish eagerness. Then, as if fearful of detection, I hid
-it, fervently praying that the Almighty would watch over, and preserve
-it.
-
-It was now necessary that my daughter should become acquainted with part
-of my designs; and I summoned her. In a moment she was at my feet.
-
-“Valeria—” and as I addressed her, I endeavored to modulate my voice
-into tones as affectionate and as soothing as possible—“Valeria, we are
-very poor—God knows we are.”
-
-“Yes; but father why speak of it now? We are as well off as most people,
-and I am sure we need no luxuries.”
-
-“My child, you know not our poverty. You see me now a decrepid and
-palsied old man. I am unable to make a living; and henceforth on you I
-must depend.”
-
-“I shall cheerfully do what I am able, father.”
-
-“I know it my child—I know it; but your utmost exertions cannot save us
-from starvation, unless properly directed. Valeria, listen to me. I ask
-you as a father will you obey my commands?”
-
-“As long as they are bounded by reason and virtue, I shall. I have
-always obeyed you—I am not disobedient, I sincerely believe.”
-
-“Valeria, can you love?”
-
-“I can. I _do_ love.”
-
-“Ha! whom do you love?”
-
-“I love you, my father—and—”
-
-“Speak!”
-
-“I love Marco da Vinci—I never intended to deny it.”
-
-In a frenzy of rage and astonishment, I started to my feet, and stood
-for some moments like one transfixed. My lips were white; my mouth
-foamed; my cheek was blanched; my eye fiery and distorted; and my whole
-frame convulsed with passion.
-
-“God’s curse be on you!” I shrieked, shaking my clenched hand in the
-face of the terrified girl—“God’s curse be on you, for the declaration.
-_You_ _love Marco da Vinci?_ May a father’s ban fall like the flames of
-perdition on you! May the heart that you so foolishly bestowed, be
-blighted and withered in its bloom! May the avenging hosts gather round
-you at your death-bed; and taunt you, and riot in your agony!”
-
-“Father! Father! O, cease those horrible words! you will drive me mad!”
-
-“No,” I replied, in a stern but more softened tone, “I shall not drive
-you mad, Valeria; but I have news that will make you feel as if madness
-would be a blessing. _You are sold._ Here is the money”—and I drew
-forth the gold I had received from Don Ferdinand. “Yes, to-morrow you
-will be the mistress of Don Ferdinand Razzina.”
-
-“Never!—so help me God!” cried Valeria, in a voice so calm and
-determined, that I feared for the success of my schemes; “death—aye, a
-thousand deaths before dishonor!”
-
-“We shall see,” I replied, with a grim smile.
-
-“_We shall!_” said Valeria, retiring; and in tones so deep and ominous
-that I shuddered. She repeated, “_we shall!_”
-
-Hitherto I have devoted my pen almost exclusively to the narrative of my
-own confessions. I must now diverge a little to introduce the reader to
-a character, of whom nothing has yet been mentioned except his name.
-
-Marco da Vinci was a young painter, of extraordinary talents, and great
-mental accomplishments. He was descended from a noble house; and might
-have enjoyed the height of affluence had not misfortune set her seal
-upon him at an early age. Favored in an unusual degree as to his mental
-and physical capacities, he received all the care and cultivation that a
-fond father could bestow; and on attaining his eighteenth year few could
-boast a more vigorous mind—a more profound education, or a more chaste
-and amiable character. Thus far was Marco successful.
-
-Smitten with an undying thirst for distinction, he resolved henceforth
-to abandon the quiet enjoyments of leisure and affluence, and dedicated
-himself altogether to the nobler calls of ambition. Alas! he knew not
-that he had yielded the substantial enjoyments of life for a misnomer—a
-chimera!
-
-It was the ardent hope of Da Vinci’s father, that the youth should, at
-no remote period, occupy an exalted station in the affairs of the
-government; but the rancor and bitterness of political life had no
-charms for the young enthusiast. Enraged and disappointed at the
-unexpected determination of his son, Don Ignatius da Vinci, abjured him
-in the zenith of his passion—disowned him, and left him an outcast and
-a beggar.
-
-The ambitious Marco wended his way to Venice, where his talents soon
-attracted the attention of a distinguished painter. Under this
-individual, Da Vinci studied with all the devotion of an enthusiast, and
-an unfeigned lover of the art. A very short time was requisite to make
-him a finished painter. That pruning to rule—that softening and
-chastening, which can only be attained by painful and almost hopeless
-perseverance in most cases, were soon mastered by the ardent disciple.
-
-In the course of time, Marco da Vinci accumulated, by his industry,
-sufficient capital to begin business on a small scale. At first he
-succeeded beyond his expectations; but soon he found that novelty is the
-spice of patronage, and that before him he had every probability of
-sinking into oblivion, and of eking out his days in starvation. Too
-proud to apply for assistance to those by whom he had been so basely
-injured, he determined to submit to his fate with manliness and
-fortitude, and to merit, if possible, sufficient patronage to support
-him, while he should by an extraordinary effort of his pencil retrieve
-his past misfortunes.
-
-A premium had been offered by the Academy of Arts, for the best portrait
-of a female that could be placed in the gallery in time for the annual
-exhibition. Da Vinci resolved to take his model from nature. The fame of
-Valeria’s beauty was proverbial throughout the city; and the candidate
-for the palm of excellence, sought out our miserable tenement, and
-implored permission to have a sitting. Too proud of the opportunity to
-extend her reputation, I consented to the proposition. Fool! fool! that
-I was! Why could I not see the danger of placing this young and ardent
-soul in such a temptation? Da Vinci was young—handsome—and
-intellectual: Valeria was innocent—amiable—and beautiful—could they
-but love? Fool, I say, fool that I was!
-
- Louisville, Kentucky, January, 1841.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- THE FAIRY’S HOME.
-
-
- Our home is far ’mid the greenwood trees,
- Where the rose-bloom floats on the burden’d breeze,
- Where the moon’s beams glance on the sleeping tide,
- And the lily grows in its stainless pride.
-
- There, deep in our flowery homes we dwell,
- In the cavern’d shades of the fairy’s cell,
- Where the sound of the wavelet’s ceaseless song,
- Shall glad the ear of the fairy throng.
-
- There calm as the blue of the “bending skies,”
- Whose beauty may bless e’en fairy’s eyes;
- We will pass those hours of careless glee,
- Whilst the woods shall ring with our melody.
-
- Our lamp shall be of the fire-fly’s light
- That shines ’mid the gloom of the darksome night,
- And led by its star-like rays we’ll roam
- ’Mid the scenes that grace our woodland home.
-
- The notes of the song-bird echo there,
- And are warbled again by our sisters fair;
- And the tones of each pure and gentle thing,
- Are voiced in the strains the fairies sing.
-
- Away from the cares and toils of life,
- No part have we in its scenes of strife,
- But calm as the sleep of the tideless sea,
- Our rest in our Fairy Home shall be.
- S. H.
-
- Philadelphia, January, 1841.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- NOT LOST, BUT GONE BEFORE.
-
-
- BY CHARLES WEST THOMSON.
-
-
- The dead but sleep—they do not die,
- They live in mem’ry’s holy cell—
- The woodland green, the summer sky
- Of them in gentle language tell.
-
- Each scene that knew them daily speaks
- Of all their love so fond and true,
- And tears that tremble on our cheeks,
- But nerve our sadness to renew.
-
- The grief that rent our hearts when first
- Death broke our early bond in twain,
- Within our souls, by memory nurst,
- Will oft times freshly burst again.
-
- Yet why indulge unfading grief,
- For those we loved and now deplore?
- Theirs is a slumber calm and brief—
- They are “not lost, but gone before.”
-
- January, 1841.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- NOT FOR ME! NOT FOR ME!
-
-
- A popular Air in the Opera of
-
- CATHERINE GRAY,
-
- _AS SUNG BY MRS. WOOD_.
-
- THE MUSIC COMPOSED BY M. W. BALFE.
-
- Geo. W. Hewitt & Co. No. 184 Chesnut Street, Philadelphia.
-
-[Illustration: musical score]
-
- Not for me, not for me,
- Regal halls and courtly life,
- Oh! more
-
-[Illustration: musical score continued]
-
- blest, my lot would be,
- Far from ev’ry scene of strife,
- From the world from all retiring,
- Gladly would this heart remove,
- One dear boon alone desiring
- Still to be with thee I love:
- Still to be with thee I love.
-
- 2
-
- Let me seek that tranquil home,
- Once I knew in happier hours,
- Free to wander, free to roam,
- Thro’ my own lov’d peaceful bow’rs.
- Not for me the world’s false pleasures,
- Not for me where splendour moves,
- More than these my bosom treasures,
- More than these my heart now loves,
- More than these my heart now loves.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- SPORTS AND PASTIMES.
- SHOOTING.
-
-
-We open this month with the first of a series of excellent papers on
-Shooting, from the pen of the author of the paper on Angling, given in
-our last. It contains some valuable hints to young sportsmen, on the art
-of Taking Aim.
-
-The pursuit and destruction of wild animals for security, food,
-clothing, or pastime, have been among the occupations of men in all
-ages, since the primeval _bruere_ overspread the earth,
-
- And wild in woods the noble savage ran!
-
-Before the more refined arts are introduced into any country, the chase
-is a necessity, and the chief business of life. The stronger and more
-noxious animals are destroyed for individual safety; the weaker for
-food. It is not until civilisation and her handmaid luxury have seated
-themselves, that the chase becomes a pastime. Nor does it appear when
-the sportsman first sprang into existence. There is no corresponding
-word in any ancient language, since that could not be called a sport
-which was a necessity. It is probable that in the earliest ages of
-society, the dog was the sole agent employed by the hunter. Afterward
-various weapons, manual, missile, and projectile—as the club, the dart,
-the arrow, were used by the hunter and fowler. Then would follow
-springs, traps, nets, and all that class of devices for the capture of
-beasts and birds _feræ naturæ_, comprehended in the term toils. As dogs
-were employed to hunt quadrupeds, so, in process of time, hawks were
-trained to bring down birds for the service of their master. The
-arbalest or cross-brow, preceded the matchlock, which, however, could
-scarcely be called an implement of the chase, but which, in the order of
-succession, brings us down to the rifle, and original fowling-piece with
-its long, heavy barrel, and flint and steel lock; and lastly, we arrive
-at the double barrels and detant locks of the modern shooter.
-
-[Illustration]
-
-
- TAKING AIM.
-
-When the dog points, or when birds rise near to the shooter, he should
-immediately draw back one hammer with the right thumb; experienced
-sportsmen disapprove of the practice of cocking both barrels at the same
-time. They think that it ought to be a rule never to cock either barrel,
-until the game be upon the wing, then that the left barrel should be
-cocked and fired, and thereafter taken from the shoulder. The right
-barrel should then be cocked and fired if necessary; if not discharged,
-it should be put back to the half-cock, and the left re-loaded. He
-should never be in haste. It is more prudent to let the bird escape than
-to fire hastily. If on open ground, he should not fire until the bird is
-more than twenty yards distant. He should be deliberate in bringing up
-the piece to his shoulder, and in making it to bear on the object, but
-the moment he has brought it to bear, the finger should act in
-co-operation with the eye, the eye being kept open the while, so that
-the shooter may see whether the bird falls, or feathers fall from it,
-for if he does not see it distinctly at the moment of firing, there is
-something defective in his system of taking aim.
-
-The shooter, when learning, should never aim directly at the body of a
-rabbit on foot, or of a bird on the wing. This precaution is scarcely
-necessary when the motion of the object is slow, but by habituating
-himself to it on all occasions, he will the sooner become an adept. His
-mark should be the head, the legs, or a wing, if within twenty yards.
-When farther off, he should make some allowance, according to the
-distance and speed of the object moving. His aim should be at the head
-of a bird rising or crossing—the legs of a bird flushed on an eminence
-and moving downward from him—the wing of a bird flying from him in an
-oblique direction. His aim should be at the head of a rabbit, in
-whatever way it may be moving. The same rules apply when the object is
-more than twenty paces distant from the shooter, making allowance for
-the speed. Thus, for a partridge crossing, the allowance of aim before
-it with a detonator, at twenty paces, will be one inch—at thirty paces
-two inches—at fifty paces five inches—at fifty-five paces seven
-inches. Half this allowance will be proper when the bird moves in an
-oblique direction. When an object moves directly from the shooter, at
-more than twenty paces distance, he should fire a little above it. When
-a bird or rabbit approaches the shooter directly, he should not aim at
-it until it has passed him, or has turned aside. The moment it has
-altered its course the gun should be brought up, and no time should be
-lost in firing.
-
-It is not easy at all times to form a correct idea of the distance of a
-bird from the gun. The nature of the situation, and the state of the
-weather often deceive the eye. Thus, on a bright day birds appear to be
-near, and on a dull day distant. It is much easier to estimate the
-distance of a bird in small enclosures, where hedges or trees serve as
-guides, than on open ground. The hedges, indeed, tend to deceive the
-unpractised eye; the object is supposed to be much farther off, while on
-open ground it is supposed to be nearer, than it really is. It is often
-very difficult to determine whether a grouse is within range; and
-sometimes the mist increases the difficulty, for then the bird is either
-scarcely seen, or else magnified, by the sun’s rays gleaming through the
-mist, to an unnatural size. In general, grouse are farther off than they
-are supposed to be. The shooter, however, has a peculiar sight: every
-bird he brings down, in good style, is at sixty yards distance. It is
-amusing sometimes to hear persons talk, after they have been _watched_,
-of the distances at which they have effected their shots; they ever
-think the game so much farther off than it really was. The sportsman who
-has not convinced himself by actual measurement, often seems to be
-laboring under a species of hallucination when speaking of his
-distances, and, if he bets on them, to a certainty loses. Birds killed
-at fifteen paces are thought to be at twenty-five, and those at
-twenty-five are estimated at thirty-five or forty, and so on to the end
-of the story!
-
-When a covey or brood rises, the shooter should fix his eye on one bird,
-and shoot at that bird only. He should not be diverted from it by other
-birds rising nearer to him while he is bringing up his gun, unless the
-bird he first set his eye upon be decidedly out of all reasonable
-distance, so as to render the chance of killing exceedingly remote. By
-observing this rule, he is not only more certain of bringing down his
-game, but he will more frequently kill the old birds—a desideratum, for
-two reasons; first, because he will, in all probability, disperse the
-covey, which being done, any sportsman may generally, without
-difficulty, bag a few brace; and secondly, because the old birds make a
-better show in the game-bag.
-
-We think that all shooters, except the veriest bunglers, use a gun
-properly as regards throwing the end of it upon the object aimed at, and
-drawing the trigger, and that any inaccuracy of aim must be attributed
-to the eye not being in the proper place when the aim is taken.
-
-The habit of missing arises not from inability to throw the end of the
-gun upon the bird, but from the eye not being directly behind the
-breech, which it necessarily must be for good shooting.
-
-If there were a sight at each end of the barrel, it would be requisite,
-when taking aim, to keep shifting the gun until both sights were in a
-line between the eye and the mark; that, however, with a gun not well
-mounted to the eye and shoulder, would be too complex an operation, for
-before it could be performed, a swift bird would be out of reach; it
-follows, then, that the shooter’s attention should be directed only to
-the sight at the top of the barrel; and the breech end should come up
-mechanically to the proper level.
-
-When a person is nervous, or afraid of the recoil, he naturally raises
-his head, and consequently shoots above the mark; on firing, he
-unconsciously throws his head back, and then seeing the bird above the
-end of the gun, he fancies he shot under it, when the reverse is the
-fact. We may also observe that if the shooter does not keep his head
-down to the stock, he will probably draw it aside, so that his aim will
-be as if taken from one of the hammers, which would, of course, throw
-the charge as much on one side of the mark, as raising the head would
-above it.
-
-The main point, then, in taking aim, is _to keep the head down to the
-stock, and the eye low behind the breach_. The sportsman who, from habit
-or practice, can invariably bring his eye down to the same place, and
-keep it steadily there, so that he may always take aim from the same
-starting point, will distance all competitors.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- REVIEW OF NEW BOOKS.
-
-
- _“The Antediluvians, or the World Destroyed.” A narrative poem,
- in ten books. By James McHenry, M. D. Author of the “Pleasures
- of Friendship,” &c. 1 vol. J. B. Lippincott & Co.: Philada._
-
-There are two species of poetry known to mankind; that which the gods
-love, and that which men abhor. The poetry of the Dr. belongs to the
-latter class, though he seems lamentably ignorant of this, from the long
-essay on taste which he has given to the world in the shape of a preface
-to the work before us, and in which his own peculiar merits and demerits
-are discussed at sufficient length. He tells us that he has long been
-tormented with an itching after immortality, and that, being convinced
-not only that the writing of a poem was the surest passport to it, but
-that the choice of a subject was the greatest difficulty in the way of
-such a work, he has spent some years of his life in selecting the
-present theme. He has also the modesty to acquaint the public that his
-subject is inferior to Milton’s alone, leaving us, by a parity of
-reasoning, to conclude that Dr. McHenry is next in glory to the heavenly
-bard. We congratulate the Dr. on his finesse. There is nothing like
-connecting one’s name with that of a genius, for if the world is not
-deceived by it, you persuade yourself, like Major Longbow, by a constant
-repetition of your story, of its truth. You become a great man in your
-own conceit, fancy that the world does injustice to your talents, and go
-down to posterity, if not as the falcon’s mate, at least as
-
- “A tom-tit twittering on an eagle’s back.”
-
-Having thus associated himself with Milton, the Dr. proceeds to inform
-us that, in the Deluge, he at length found a theme “exalted and
-extensive enough for the exercise of poetic talents of the highest
-order,” leaving us, a second time, to infer, what he is too modest
-except to insinuate, that his own genius is unequalled. He then calls
-our attention to the plot, asserting that the general “plan and scope”
-of a poem are second only to its theme—that is, that diction, style,
-and imagination, in short every requisite of a true poet, are but
-“flimsy stuff.” The Dr. seems to know his own weak points, and when the
-“galled jade winces;” but even his elaborated plot is worse than nine
-men out of ten would construct. We have gleaned little from it except a
-few facts, which would be strange, were they not ridiculous. There is a
-description of a harem in the second book, from which we learn that
-velvets, and embroidery were as much in vogue among the antediluvians as
-now; an account of a siege in the eighth book, which settles the
-disputed question, whether Greek fire, melted lead, and catapults, were
-used then or not; and a detail of a battle in the same book, which gives
-the divisions and manœuvres of the contending armies, and puts at rest
-the assertions of military men, who trace our present tactics back no
-farther than the invention of gunpowder. Besides this, there are two
-marriages—a rescued maiden—one or more heroes, and as many heroines,
-with an innumerable catalogue of minor incidents, in short, the
-materials of a half a dozen bad novels, woven into a worse poem.
-
-We are told in the outset that the “versification is not particularly
-modelled after that of any preceding author,” and that our classic poets
-afford no style “exactly suitable for this work,” and, consequently, we
-are but little astonished when we meet with such passages as the
-following:
-
- “Subservient to the foul, malignant fiends,
- The abandoned race of Cain their God forsook,
- And to the infernal agents gave their hearts.
- Oh! preference worse than foolish, choice insane!
- Which drove celestial spirits from their charge
- Of guardianship o’er human feebleness,
- And left the hapless Cainites in the power
- Of hellish tyrants, whom they blindly served,
- Lured by the sensual pleasures amply given
- In transient, poisonous recompense for guilt.”
- _Page 14._
-
-Or this:
-
- “Here reigned the fierce Shalmazar, giant king,
- _Sprung from a mixture of infernal strain_,
- His sire, the power of lewdness, Belial named,
- Who, amorous of an earth-born beauty, won
- Astoreth, princess of Gal-Cainah’s realm,
- To his unhallowed love.”
- _Page 16._
-
-What the meaning of the author is in the line above italicised, we
-challenge all Christendom to discover. But even no sense at all, is
-better than mere verbiage, or coarse or improbable metaphor, as thus:
-
- “Repose at last, where it is ever found
- By weary mortals, in the peaceful grave,
- _In which his heir, that moralising youth,_
- _The melancholy Lameth, had before_
- _Laid down the o’erpowering burden of his woes._”
- _Page 12._
-
-And again:
-
- “The _harnessed-spirits_ spreading forth their wings.”
- _Page 11._
-
-And thus:
-
- “Then was the hour of vengeance; then the stern
- _Hell-generated_ tyrant felt dismay,
- And in his chariot fled—”
- _Page 262._
-
-But we must bring a still heavier charge against the Dr., that of a
-total want of originality. The whole plan and conception of the
-Antediluvians is copied, but “longo intervallo,” after Paradise Lost.
-Had Milton never written poetry, Dr. McHenry would never have published
-bombast. Yet the one is only the shadow of the other’s shade. This
-imitation is perceptible, not only in various attempts to copy the
-versification, but oftentimes in more glaring and less defensible
-plagiarisms. Would it, for instance, be believed that the second book of
-the Antediluvians begins with a passage so nearly resembling the opening
-of the second book in Paradise Lost, as to make, as Dogberry has it,
-“flat burglary?” Thus:
-
- “High on a throne of royal state, which far
- Outshone the wealth of Ormus and of Ind,
- Or where the gorgeous east, with richest hand,
- Showers on her kings barbaric, pearls and gold,
- Satan exalted sat.”
- _Paradise Lost, Book II._
-
- “In royal robes, magnificently bright,
- On his imperial throne of burnished gold,
- And polished ivory, which sparkling shone,
- With gems innumerable, of various hues,
- That shed a blaze of streaming radiance round
- The gorgeous hall, the haughty monarch sat.”
- _Antediluvians, page 29._
-
-And so on diluting the idea of Milton into a dozen more lines, and
-shewing, at once, the grandeur of the model, and the feebleness of the
-imitation. Yet Dr. McHenry calls himself a poet, and pretends to the
-divine afflatus. But again:
-
- “Such scenes of cruelty and blood,
- Exhibited before appalled Heaven,
- _To make the angels weep_, to look on earth!”
- _Antediluvians, page 202._
-
- “But man, frail man,
- Drest in a little brief authority,
- Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven,
- As make the angels weep.”
- _Shakspeare._
-
-We might multiply such instances;—but enough. Has the Dr. forgotten the
-celebrated verse of Virgil?
-
- “Hos ego versiculos feci, tulit alter honores.”
-
-The Dr. appears fond of the use of epithets, especially such ones as
-“infernal, fiendish, hellish,” and other coarse adjectives. We do not
-object to the use of the two former, provided they appear sparingly and
-in place, but really the work before us is seasoned rather highly with
-such epithets for our taste. The Dr. however, appears to be of the
-Tompsonian school in literature, and not only spices strongly, but
-swashes away right and left at the accredited school. We advise him,
-once for all, to give up poetry, which he disgraces, for physic, which
-he may adorn. God never intended him for an immortal fame. We are
-satisfied that, if he should be arraigned for writing poetry, no sane
-jury would ever convict him; and if, as most likely, he should plead
-guilty at once, it would be as quickly disallowed, on that rule of law,
-which forbids the judges to decide against the plain evidence of their
-senses.
-
- * * * * *
-
- _“The Dream, and other Poems.” By the Hon. Mrs. Norton. Carey
- and Hart, Philadelphia: 1841._
-
-Hemans, Baillie, Landon, and loveliest of all, Norton!—what a glorious
-constellation for one language. France with her gaiety: Italy with her
-splendid genius: even Greece with her passionate enthusiasm, cannot
-rival such a galaxy. And this glory too, belongs wholly to the present
-century, for though the harp of England has often been struck by female
-hands, it has heretofore only given forth a rare and fitful cadence,
-instead of the rich, deep, prolonged harmony which now rolls from its
-chords.
-
-Mrs. Norton is unquestionably,—since the death of Mrs. Hemans, the
-queen of English song. In many respects she resembles that gifted
-poetess: in some she is strikingly dissimilar. The same pathos, the same
-sweetness, the same fancy characterize both; but in all that
-distinguishes the practised author, rather than the poetess, Mrs. Hemans
-has the advantage of her successor. Thus, the one is sometimes faulty in
-the rhythm: the other never. Mrs. Norton will now and then be betrayed
-into a carelessness of diction; Mrs. Hemans was rarely, if ever, guilty
-of such solecisms. Such expressions, for instance, as the “harboring”
-land, the “guiding” hand, the “pausing” heart, the “haunting” shade, and
-others of like character, taken at random from the volume before us,
-though not strictly improper, yet, as they are plainly expletive, and
-weaken, instead of strengthening a sentence, are never to be found in
-the poems of Mrs. Hemans, or of any one “learned in the craft.”
-
-But, if Mrs. Norton is less correct than Mrs. Hemans, she is, on the
-other hand, more nervous, more passionate, and at times more lofty. No
-one can read “The Dream” without being struck by the truth of the
-remark, that Mrs. Norton is the Byron of our female poets. There are
-passages in some of her poems of greater power than any passages of like
-length in Mrs. Hemans’ writings, though at the same time, there are a
-far greater number of inferior lines in the poetry of Mrs. Norton, than
-in that of her gifted sister. In short, the one is the more equal, the
-other is the more daring. One is the more skilful writer: the other
-shows glimpses of a bolder genius. There is less prettiness, and not so
-much sameness in Mrs. Norton as in Mrs. Hemans. The former is not yet,
-perhaps, the equal of the latter, but she possesses the power to be so,
-if her rich fancy and deep feeling, now scarcely known to herself,
-should ever be brought so completely under her control as were the
-talents of Mrs. Hemans.
-
-If Mrs. Norton had written nothing before, this volume would have
-established her claim to be the first of living poetesses; but who that
-is familiar with the world of song can forget the many gems—rich, and
-beautiful, and rare—with which she has spangled beforetime her starry
-crown? The world has taken more care of her glory than she has herself,
-and the random pieces she has poured forth so divinely at intervals, and
-which hitherto she has made no effort to preserve, have found their way
-into the hearts of all who can be touched by the mournful or the
-beautiful, until her name is cherished alike in the humble cottage and
-the princely hall. And now she has come forth in more stately guise, not
-as a new author among strangers, but as one long tried and known, one
-endeared to us by old association, one whose melancholy music is, as it
-were, a part of our very being.
-
-“The Dream” is the longest poem in the volume before us, but, as it
-makes no pretension to be considered a story, and has really no plot, we
-shall not judge it by the ordinary rule of criticism. We shall consider
-it only as a string of pearls, loosely joined together by the simplest
-contrivance, the idea of a dream, narrated by a daughter to her
-mother,—and, judging it in this way, we give it unqualified praise.
-That its merit is unequal, is, in our eyes, no objection to its
-beauty,—for have not all poets skimmed the ground as well as soared to
-heaven? Yes! “The Dream” is unequal, but so is Lallah Rookh, so is
-Marmion, so are all the tales of Byron, and so—to ascend a step
-higher—is Comus, or Hamlet, or even the Iliad.
-
-But Mrs. Norton, like her gifted sister, possesses one quality which
-distinguishes her above all other writers, in this or in any tongue—we
-mean in giving utterance to, what is emphatically, _the poetry of
-woman_. In this they resemble no cotemporary, unless it is Miss Landon.
-Women have written poetry before, but if it had been shewn to a
-stranger, he could not have told from which sex it sprung. It is not so
-with the poetry of these two gifted females. Every line betrays the
-woman—each verse breathes the tender, the melting, the peculiar
-eloquence of the sex.
-
-Scarcely a page, moreover, occurs in the writings of either, which does
-not bear testimony to woman’s suffering and worth. Yes! while it is the
-fashion to sneer at the purity of woman’s heart, and while a pack of
-literary debauchees are libelling our mothers and our sisters unopposed,
-from the ranks of that insulted sex have risen up defenders of its
-innocence, to shame the heartless slanderers to silence. Hear in what
-eloquent numbers Mrs. Norton vindicates her sex:
-
- “Warriors and statesmen have their meed of praise,
- And what they do or suffer men record;
- But the long sacrifice of woman’s days
- Passes without a thought—without a word;
- And many a holy struggle for the sake
- Of duties sternly, faithfully fulfill’d—
- _For which the anxious mind must watch and wake,_
- _And the strong feelings of the heart be still’d_,—
- Goes by unheeded as the summer wind,
- And leaves no memory and no trace behind!
- Yet it may be more lofty courage dwells
- In one meek heart which braves an adverse fate,
- Than his, whose ardent soul indignant swells,
- Warmed by the fight, or cheer’d through high debate:
- The soldier dies surrounded;—_could he live_
- _Alone to suffer, and alone to strive?_
-
- Answer, ye graves, whose suicidal gloom
- Shows deeper honor than a common tomb!
- _Who sleep within?_
-
-Aye! who? Not woman, we can answer for it. God bless her who has written
-thus. The wretches who would rob the sex of their purity of heart, and
-their uncomplaining endurance of suffering, deserve to die, uncheered by
-woman’s nurture, unwept by woman’s tenderness. Such beings are not men:
-they are scarcely even brutes: they are _aliquid monstri_, monsters in
-part. But again:
-
- “In many a village churchyard’s simple grave,
- Where all unmarked the cypress branches wave;
- In many a vault, where Death could only claim
- The brief inscription of a woman’s name;
- Of different ranks, and different degrees,
- From daily labor to a life of ease,
- (_From the rich wife, who through the weary day_
- _Wept in her jewels_, grief’s unceasing prey,
- To the poor soul who trudg’d o’er marsh and moor,
- And with her baby begg’d from door to door,—)
- Lie hearts which, ere they found that last release,
- Had lost all memory of the blessing, “Peace;”
- Hearts, whose long struggle through unpitied years,
- None saw but Him who marks the mourner’s tears;
- _The obscurely noble!_ who evaded not
- The woe which he had will’d should be their lot,
- But nerved themselves to bear!”
-
-“The Dream,” as a whole, is the finest piece in the volume before us. It
-abounds with glorious passages, of which we can only give two more
-examples—the one, impassioned, nervous, and stirring as a trumpet—the
-other sweet, and low, and musical as the rustle of an angel’s wing. Few
-authors can boast such a varied power.
-
- “Heaven give thee poverty, disease, or death,
- Each varied ill that waits on human breath,
- Rather than bid thee linger out thy life,
- In the long toil of such unnatural strife.
- To wander through the world unreconciled,
- Heart-weary as a spirit-broken child,
- _And think it were an hour of bliss like heaven,_
- _If thou couldst_ DIE—_forgiving and forgiven_,—
- Or with a feverish hope of anguish born,
- (Nerving thy mind to feel indignant scorn
- Of all the cruel foes that twixt ye stand,
- Holding thy heart-strings with a reckless hand,)
- Steal to his presence, now unseen so long,
- And claim _his_ mercy who hath dealt the wrong!
- Into the aching depths of thy poor heart,
- Dive, as it were, even to the roots of pain,
- And wrench up thoughts that tear thy soul apart,
- And burn like fire through thy bewildered brain.
- Clothe them in passionate words of wild appeal,
- To teach thy fellow creatures how to feel,—
- Pray, weep, exhaust thyself in maddening tears,—
- Recall the hopes, the influences of years,—
- Kneel, dash thyself upon the senseless ground,
- Writhe as the worm writhes with dividing wound,—
- Invoke the Heaven that knows thy sorrow’s truth,
- By all the softening memories of youth—
- By every hope that cheered thine early day—
- By every tear that washes wrath away—
- By every old remembrance long gone by—
- By every pang that makes thee yearn to die;
- And learn at length how deep and stern a blow
- Man’s hand can strike, and yet no pity show!”
-
-What force! what passion! Never has Mrs. Hemans written thus,—few
-indeed have done so except Byron.
-
-We must pass “The Dream” with a single other quotation. It is on the
-evening hour, and is sweet as a moonlit landscape, or a child’s dream of
-heaven.
-
- “_That_ hour, once sacred to God’s presence, still
- Keeps itself calmer from the touch of ill,
- The holiest hour of earth. _Then_ toil doth cease,
- Then from the yoke, the oxen find release—
- Then man rests, pausing from his many cares,
- _And the world teems with children’s sunset prayers!_
- Then innocent things seek out their natural rest,
- The babe sinks slumbering on its mother’s breast,
- The birds beneath their leafy covering creep,
- Yea, even the flowers fold up their buds in sleep;
- And angels, floating by on radiant wings,
- Hear the low sounds the breeze of evening brings,
- Catch the sweet incense as it floats along,
- The infant’s prayer, the mother’s cradle-song,
- And bear the holy gifts to worlds afar,
- As things too sacred for this fallen star.”
-
-There is, in reading these poems, an abiding sense of the desolation
-that has fallen on the heart of the writer, a desolation which only adds
-to the mournful music of her lyre, like the approach of death, is
-fabled, to give music to the swan. We have studiously avoided,
-heretofore, touching upon this subject, as we would not, by awakening
-pity, blind the judgment of the public, but we cannot avoid the remark,
-that every page of this volume bears evidence that the heart of the
-authoress, like that of Rachel, will not be comforted. The arrow has
-entered deep into her soul. Like Mrs. Hemans, unfortunate in her
-domestic life—for the miscreant who would still believe her guilty is
-an insult to humanity—she “seeks, as the stricken deer, to weep in
-silence and loneliness.” Hers is a hard lot; deserted by the one who has
-sworn to love her, and maligned by the unfeeling world, she has not even
-the consolation of weeping with her children, and finding some relief in
-their caresses for her broken heart. Hear her once more—we have almost
-wept as we read—hear her, when gazing in the twilight at the pictures
-of her absent children.
-
- “Where are ye? Are ye playing
- By the stranger’s blazing hearth;
- Forgetting, in your gladness,
- Your old home’s former mirth?
- _Are ye dancing? Are ye singing?_
- _Are ye full of childish glee?_
- _Or do your light hearts sadden_
- _With the memory of me?_
- Round whom, oh! gentle darlings,
- Do your young arms fondly twine,
- Does she press you to _her_ bosom
- Who hath taken you from mine?
- _Oh! boys, the twilight hour_
- _Such a heavy time hath grown_,—
- It recalls with such deep anguish
- All I used to call my own,—
- That the harshest word that ever
- Was spoken to me there,
- Would be trivial—would be _welcome_—
- In this depth of my despair!
- Yet no! Despair shall sink not.
- While life and love remain,—
- Tho’ the weary struggle haunt me,
- And my prayer be made in vain:
- Tho’ at times my spirit fail me
- And the bitter tear-drops fall,
- _Tho’ my lot be hard and lonely,_
- _Yet I hope—I hope thro’ all._”
-
-And then, with what a burst of eloquence, she carries out the idea!
-
- “By the living smile which greeted
- The lonely one of Nain,
- When her long last watch was over,
- And her hope seemed wild and vain;
- By all the tender mercy
- God hath shown to human grief,
- When fate or man’s perverseness
- Denied and barr’d relief,—
- By the hopeless woe which taught me
- To look to him alone,
- From the vain appeals for justice,
- And wild efforts of my own,—
- By thy light—thou unseen future,
- And thy tears—thou bitter past,
- _I will hope—tho’ all forsake me_,
- _In His mercy to the last!_”
- Twilight.
-
-But we must close this article. There are many exquisite shorter pieces
-in the volume, besides The Dream and Twilight. The Creole Girl; The
-Child of Earth; I cannot Love Thee; The Visionary Portrait; The Banner
-of the Covenanters; Weep not for him that Dieth; and several of the
-Sonnets may be instanced as among the finest. Let us, in conclusion,
-commend the poems of Mrs. Norton to our fair countrywomen as those of a
-mind of a high order. Less egotism, a more extended scope of feeling,
-and greater attention to the rules of her art, will place her foremost
-among the female poets of England.
-
- * * * * *
-
- _“Bancroft’s History of the United Slates.” Vol. 3._
-
-The first two volumes of this history have now been some years before
-the public, and criticism has long since given them its _fiat_. The
-characteristics of Mr. Bancroft are a rigid scrutiny of facts, a general
-impartiality, and a style, usually nervous, but sometimes savoring of
-transcendental obscurity. The style of the second volume, however, is an
-improvement on that of the first, and the volume before us surpasses, in
-our opinion, either of the former two. There is a philosophy in Bancroft
-which other historians might well emulate. No man has traced so clearly
-the causes of the American Revolution. It was the stern, hard,
-independence of the Pilgrims, handed down to their posterity, and united
-with the gallant and chivalric freedom of the South, which brought about
-the greatest revolution of modern times.
-
-The pictures which Mr. Bancroft draws in pursuing the thread of his
-narrative, are often highly graphic. The early adventures of Soto and
-others; the colony of Raleigh at Roanoke; the landing of the Pilgrims;
-the Indian wars of New England, are all described with force if not with
-beauty. The gradual dissemination of the Democratic principle is also
-faithfully depicted; and it is clearly shown that the Puritans, the
-Swedes, and the Quakers, alike formed pure democracies in their
-settlements. In short, the history is something more than a mere
-chronicle: it is a continuous essay on the philosophy of the American
-Revolution.
-
-The third volume brings the subject down to the period of the old French
-war, an epoch which may be considered at the threshold of the struggle
-for independence. Here, for the present, he drops the curtain. A fitter
-point, for such a pause could not have been chosen. Behind, is the long
-succession of trials, and dangers, through which the infant colonies had
-just passed: before is the wild, shadowy future, soon to become vivid
-with its startling panorama. Such a reflection might well fill the mind
-of the historian with a kind of solemn awe; and it is while such
-feelings overpower his readers, that he introduces Washington, the
-future hero of the scene.
-
-The work is beautifully printed, in a style highly creditable to the
-American press.
-
-We leave Mr. Bancroft with the hope that his historic labors will be
-pursued with redoubled zeal, satisfied that in him America possesses a
-philosophic annalist of the highest order.
-
- * * * * *
-
- _“Bryant’s American Poets.” 1 vol. Harper & Brothers._
-
-This work does credit to the editor, although he has admitted some, and
-left out others, of our poetical writers, whom we think he ought not so
-to have treated. However, a compilation like this can never be made to
-suit all. The true question is, who can do better?
-
- * * * * *
-
- _“Travels to the City of the Caliphs.” By Lieutenant Wellsted. 2
- vols. Lea & Blanchard._
-
-This is a light, entertaining work. The adventures of the hero (Lieut.
-Ormsby) are highly pleasing; and he evinces a laudable desire to fall in
-love, as well for his own as for the convenience of the reader. On the
-whole, the book is well written, and quite amusing.
-
- * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- FASHIONS FOR FEBRUARY, 1841.
-
-
- CARRIAGE DRESS.
-
-Fig. 1.—Robe of one of the new figured silks; the skirt trimmed with
-two _bias_ flounces; half-high _corsage_, and bishop’s sleeve. Cambric
-_collerette-fichû_, trimmed with Valenciennes lace. Violet satin
-_mantelet_, lined with _gros de Naples_, and bordered with a broad band
-of violet velvet; it is of the scarf form, but made long and ample, and
-with a small pointed hood. Green satin _chapeau_, a round brim,
-something deeper than they are in general; the interior is trimmed on
-each side with a half wreath of blush-roses; the exterior with bands and
-knots of green ribbon, and a white and green shaded _marabout_ plume.
-
-
- EVENING DRESS.
-
-Fig. 2.—Lemon-colored satin robe, trimmed with a deep flounce of
-antique point lace, surmounted by roses placed singly at regular
-distances above the flounce; low tight _corsage_ and sleeve, both
-trimmed with point. Head-dress of hair, disposed in thick masses of
-ringlets at the sides, and a low open bow behind; it is decorated with
-flowers, and a gold cross, _Châle bournouss_ of white cashmere, lined
-with white satin, and bordered with a band of black and plaid velvet.
-
-Fig. 3.—India muslin robe; the skirt is trimmed with a closely plaited
-_volan_, which encircles the bottom of the border, mounts in the drapery
-style on one side, and is terminated by a _nœud_ of muslin, similarly
-finished at the ends; a _chef d’or_ head the _volan_. _Corsage en gerbe_
-and short full sleeve, both ornamented with _chefs d’or_. The head dress
-gives a front view of the one just described. Opera cloak of brown _rep_
-velvet, lined with blue satin: it is made shorter than the dress, of
-moderate width, and trimmed with three blue satin _rouleaus_, each
-placed at some distance from the other, and a light embroidery
-surmounting the upper one. A small hood, and a very deep lappel complete
-the ornaments.
-
-
- OPERA DRESS.
-
-Fig. 4.—_Douilette_ of white cashmere, wadded, and lined with pink
-_gros de Naples_; the lining quilted in a lozenge pattern; the _corsage_
-is made tight to the shape, and half-high. Demi-large sleeve; the front
-of the skirt is finished on each side by fancy silk trimming. _Mantelet_
-of a large size, and of the same materials, bordered with a rich white
-and pink _chenille_ fringe. Black velvet _chapeau à la Louis XIII_,
-trimmed with white and pink feathers.
-
-[Illustration: FASHIONS FOR FEBRUARY 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.
-
-[End of _Graham’s Magazine, Vol. XVIII, No. 2, February 1841_, George R.
-Graham, Editor]
-
-
-
-
-
-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Graham's Magazine, Vol. XVIII, No. 2,
-February 1841, by Various
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-<pre>
-
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Graham's Magazine, Vol. XVIII, No. 2,
-February 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. 2, February 1841
-
-Author: Various
-
-Editor: George R. Graham
-
-Release Date: November 7, 2020 [EBook #63665]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GRAHAM'S MAGAZINE, FEBRUARY 1841 ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Mardi Desjardins & the online Distributed
-Proofreaders Canada team at https://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> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;February, 1841. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;No. 2.</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'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#blind'>The Blind Girl of Pompeii</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#reef'>The Reefer of ’76</a> (continued)</td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#mygran'>My Grandmother’s Tankard</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#resc'>The Rescued Knight</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#silv'>The Silver Digger</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#syri'>The Syrian Letters</a> (continued)</td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#sacc'>The Saccharineous Philosophy</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#conf'>The Confessions of a Miser</a></td><td class='tab1c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab1c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#sports'>Sports and Pastimes. Shooting</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'>&nbsp;</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'>&nbsp;</td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#dream'>The Dream of the Delaware</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#chil'>Little Children</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#skat'>Skating</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#dest'>The Soul’s Destiny</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#wint'>Winter</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#fair'>The Fairy’s Home</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#notl'>Not Lost, But Gone Before</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#not'>Not for Me! Not for Me!</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-<tr><td class='tab2c1 tdStyle1'><a href='#fash'>Fashions for February, 1841</a></td><td class='tab2c2 tdStyle2'></td></tr>
-</table>
-
-<p class='line0' style='text-align:center;margin-top:1.5em;'><a href='#notes'>Transcriber’s Notes</a> can be found at the end of this eBook.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk100'/>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i001.jpg' alt='' id='iid-0001' style='width:80%;height:auto;'/>
-<p class='caption'><span class='it'><span style='font-size:smaller'>J. Sartain sc.</span></span><br/></p> <br/>The Blind Girl of Pompeii<br/> <br/><span class='it'><span style='font-size:smaller'>Eng<sup>d</sup> for Graham’s Magazine from the Original Picture by Leutze in the possession of J. Sill Esq. Phil<sup>a.</sup></span></span>
-</div>
-
-<hr class='tbk101'/>
-
-<p class='line0' style='text-align:center;margin-top:1.5em;font-size:1.9em;font-weight:bold;'>GRAHAM’S MAGAZINE.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk102'/>
-
-<p class='line0' style='text-align:center;font-size:1.2em;font-weight:bold;'><span class='sc'>Vol.</span> XVIII. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;FEBRUARY, 1841. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class='sc'>No. 2.</span></p>
-
-<hr class='tbk103'/>
-
-<div><h1 class='nobreak'><a id='blind'></a>THE BLIND GIRL OF POMPEII.</h1></div>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>Who</span> that has read the “Last Days of Pompeii”
-can forget Nydia, the blind flower-girl? So sweet,
-and pure, and gentle, and devoted in her unrequited
-love, she steals insensibly upon the heart, and wins
-a place therein, which even the brilliant Ione fails
-to obtain! Poor, artless innocent, her life, alas!
-was one of disappointment from its birth.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We cannot better portray the character of this
-guileless being than by copying the exquisite description
-of Bulwer. The scene opens with a
-company of gay, young Pompeiians—among whom
-is Glaucus, the hero of the story—taking a morning
-stroll through the town. We let the story speak
-for itself.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thus conversing, their steps were arrested by a
-crowd gathered round an open space where three
-streets met; and just where the porticoes of a light
-and graceful temple threw their shade, there stood
-a young girl, with a flower-basket on her right arm,
-and a small three-stringed instrument of music in
-the left hand, to whose low and soft tones she was
-modulating a wild and half-barbaric air. At every
-pause in the music she gracefully waved her flower
-basket round, inviting the loiterers to buy; and
-many a sesterce was showered into the basket,
-either in compliment to the music, or in compassion
-to the songstress—for she was blind.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘It is my poor Thessalian,’ said Glaucus, stopping;
-‘I have not seen her since my return to
-Pompeii. Hush! her voice is sweet; let us listen.’</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<div class='stanza-inner'>
-<p class='line0' style='text-align:center;'>THE BLIND FLOWER GIRL’S SONG.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Buy my Flowers—O buy—I pray,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The Blind Girl comes from afar:</p>
-<p class='line0'>If the Earth be as fair as I hear them say,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;These Flowers her children are!</p>
-<p class='line0'>Do they her beauty keep?</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;They are fresh from her lap, I know;</p>
-<p class='line0'>For I caught them fast asleep</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;In her arms an hour ago,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;With the air which is her breath—</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;Her soft and delicate breath—</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;Over them murmuring low!—</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>On their lips her sweet kiss lingers yet,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And their cheeks with her tender tears are wet,</p>
-<p class='line0'>For she weeps,—that gentle mother weeps</p>
-<p class='line0'>(As morn and night her watch she keeps,</p>
-<p class='line0'>With a yearning heart and a passionate care,)</p>
-<p class='line0'>To see the young things grow so fair;</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;She weeps—for love she weeps—</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And the dews are the tears she weeps</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;From the well of a mother’s love!</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Ye have a world of light,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Where love in the lov’d rejoices;</p>
-<p class='line0'>But the Blind Girl’s home is the House of Night,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And its Beings are empty voices.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;As one in the Realm below,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;I stand by the streams of wo;</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;I hear the vain shadows glide,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;I feel their soft breath at my side,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;And I thirst the lov’d forms to see,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;And I stretch my fond arms around,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;And I catch but a shapeless sound,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;For the Living are Ghosts to me.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;Come buy—come buy!—</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;Hark! how the sweet things sigh</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;(For they have a voice like ours,)</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;“The breath of the Blind Girl closes</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;The leaves of the saddening roses—</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;We are tender, we sons of Light,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;We shrink from this child of Night;</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;From the grasp of the Blind Girl free us,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;We yearn for the eyes that see us—</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;We are for Night too gay,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;In our eyes we behold the day—</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;O buy—O buy the Flowers!”</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘I must have yon bunch of violets, sweet
-Nydia,’ said Glaucus, pressing through the crowd,
-and dropping a handful of small coins into the
-basket; ‘your voice is more charming than ever.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The blind girl started forward as she heard the
-Athenian’s voice—then as suddenly paused, while
-the blood rushed violently over neck, cheek, and
-temples.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘So you are returned!’ said she in a low voice;
-and then repeated, half to herself, ‘Glaucus is returned!’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Yes, child, I have not been at Pompeii above
-a few days. My garden wants your care as before,
-you will visit it, I trust, to-morrow. And mind, no
-garlands at my house shall be woven by any hands
-but those of the pretty Nydia.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nydia smiled joyously, but did not answer; and
-Glaucus, placing the violets he had selected in his
-breast, turned gayly and carelessly from the crowd.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘So, she is a sort of client of yours, this child?’
-said Clodius.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Ay—does she not sing prettily? She interests
-me, the poor slave!—besides, she is from the land
-of the Gods’ hill—Olympus frowned upon her
-cradle—she is of Thessaly.’ ”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>How exquisitely is the love of Nydia told in her
-joy at the return of Glaucus! Only a master-hand
-could have described it in that blush, and start, and
-the glad exclamation, “Glaucus is returned!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The revellers meanwhile pass on their way,
-and it is not till the following morning that the
-flower-girl appears again upon the scene. But
-though she comes even while the Athenian is
-musing on his mistress Ione, there is a beauty
-around Nydia’s every movement which makes us
-hail her with delight. It is her appearance at this
-visit which the artist has transferred to the canvass.
-Lo! are not the limner and the author equally inimitable?</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Longer, perhaps, had been the enamored soliloquy
-of Glaucus, but at that moment a shadow
-darkened the threshold of the chamber, and a
-young female, still half a child in years, broke upon
-his solitude. She was dressed simply in a white
-tunic, which reached from the neck to the ankles;
-under her arm she bore a basket of flowers, and in
-the other hand she held a bronze water vase; her
-features were more formed than exactly became her
-years, yet they were soft and feminine in their outline,
-and without being beautiful in themselves they
-were almost made so by their beauty of expression;
-there was something ineffably gentle, and you would
-say patient, in her aspect—a look of resigned sorrow,
-of tranquil endurance, had banished the smile,
-but not the sweetness, from her lips; something
-timid and cautious in her step—something wandering
-in her eyes, led you to suspect the affliction
-which she had suffered from her birth—she was
-blind; but in the orbs themselves there was no
-visible defect, their melancholy and subdued light
-was clear, cloudless, and serene. ‘They tell me
-that Glaucus is here,’ said she; ‘may I come
-in?’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Ah, my Nydia,’ said the Greek, ‘is that you?
-I knew you would not neglect my invitation.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Glaucus did but justice to himself,’ answered
-Nydia, with a blush, ‘for he has always been kind
-to the poor blind girl.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Who could be otherwise?’ said Glaucus, tenderly,
-and in the voice of a compassionate brother.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nydia sighed and paused before she resumed,
-without replying to his remark. ‘You have but
-lately returned? This is the sixth sun that hath
-shone upon me at Pompeii. And you are well?
-Ah, I need not ask—for who that sees the earth
-which they tell me is so beautiful can be ill?’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘I am well—and you, Nydia?—how you have
-grown! next year you will be thinking of what
-answer we shall make your lovers.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A second blush passed over the cheek of Nydia,
-but this time she frowned as she blushed. ‘I have
-brought you some flowers,’ said she, without replying
-to a remark she seemed to resent, and feeling
-about the room till she found the table that stood
-by Glaucus, she laid the basket upon it: ‘they are
-poor, but they are fresh gathered.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘They might come from Flora herself,’ said he,
-kindly; ‘and I renew again my vow to the Graces
-that I will wear no other garlands while thy hands
-can weave me such as these.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘And how find you the flowers in your viridarium?
-are they thriving?’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Wonderfully so—the Lares themselves must
-have tended them.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Ah, now you give me pleasure; for I came, as
-often as I could steal the leisure, to water and tend
-them in your absence.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘How shall I thank thee, fair Nydia?’ said the
-Greek. ‘Glaucus little dreamed that he left one
-memory so watchful over his favorites at Pompeii.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The hand of the child trembled, and her breast
-heaved beneath her tunic. She turned around in
-embarrassment. ‘The sun is hot for the poor
-flowers,’ said she, ‘to-day, and they will miss me,
-for I have been ill lately, and it is nine days since I
-visited them.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Ill, Nydia! yet your cheek has more color than
-it had last year.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘I am often ailing,’ said the blind girl, touchingly,
-‘and as I grow up I grieve more that I am blind.
-But now to the flowers!’ So saying, she made a
-slight reverence with her head, and passing into the
-viridarium, busied herself with watering the flowers.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“ ‘Poor Nydia,’ thought Glaucus, gazing on her,
-‘thine is a hard doom. Thou seest not the earth—nor
-the sun—nor the ocean—nor the stars—above
-all, thou canst not behold Ione.’</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Nydia, too, is a slave, and to a coarse inn-keeper,
-who would make a profit by her beauty and her
-singing. How her heart breaks daily at the brutal
-treatment of her master, and the still more cruel
-language of his patrons! But at length Glaucus
-purchases her, and she is comparatively happy.
-And through all her melancholy history how does
-her hopeless love shine out, beautifying and making
-more sweet than ever, her guileless character! It
-is a long and mournful tale. Glaucus at length
-succeeds in winning Ione; they escape fortunately
-from the destruction of Pompeii; but Nydia, uncomplaining,
-yet broken-hearted, disappears mysteriously
-from the deck of their vessel at night.
-Need we tell her probable fate?</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk104'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='reef'></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>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>FORT MOULTRIE.</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>How</span> often has the story of the heart been told!
-The history of the love of one bosom is that of the
-millions who have alternated between hope and fear
-since first the human heart began to throb. The
-gradual awakening of our affection; the first consciousness
-we have of our own feelings; the tumultuous
-emotions of doubt and certainty we experience,
-and the wild rapture of the moment, when, for the
-first time, we learn that our love is requited, have
-all been told by pens more graphic than mine, and
-in language as nervous as that of Fielding, or as
-moving as that of Richardson.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The daily companionship into which I was now
-thrown with Beatrice was, of all things, the most
-dangerous to my peace. From the first moment
-when I beheld her she had occupied a place in my
-thoughts; and the footing of acquaintanceship, not
-to say intimacy, on which we now lived, was little
-calculated to banish her from my mind. Oh! how
-I loved to linger by her side during the moonlight
-evenings of that balmy latitude, talking of a thousand
-things which, at other times, would have been
-void of interest, or gazing silently upon the peaceful
-scene around, with a hush upon our hearts it seemed
-almost sacrilege to break. And at such times how
-the merest trifle would afford us food for conversation,
-or how eloquent would be the quiet of that
-holy silence! Yes! the ripple of a wave, or the
-glimmer of the spray, or the twinkling of a star, or
-the voice of the night-wind sighing low, or the
-deep, mysterious language of the unquiet ocean,
-had, at such moments, a beauty in them, stirring
-every chord in our hearts, and filling us, as it were,
-with sympathy not only for each other, but for every
-thing in Nature. And when we would part for the
-night, I would pace for hours, my solitary watch,
-thinking of Beatrice, with all the rapt devotion of a
-first, pure love.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But this could not last. The dream was pleasant,
-yet it might not lead me to dishonor. Beatrice
-was under my protection, and was it right to avail
-myself of that advantage to win her heart, when I
-knew from the difference of our stations in life, that
-it was madness to think that she could ever be
-mine. What? the heiress of one of the richest
-Jamaica residents, the grand-daughter of a baron,
-and the near connexion of some of the wealthiest
-tory families of the south, to be wooed as an equal
-by one who not only had no fortune but his sword,
-but was the advocate, in the eyes of her advisers, of
-a rebellious cause! Nor did the service I had rendered
-her lessen the difficulty of my position.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>These feelings, however, had rendered me more
-guarded, perhaps more cold, in the presence of
-Beatrice, for a day or two preceding our arrival in
-port. I felt my case hopeless: and I wished, by
-gradually avoiding the danger, to lessen the agony
-of the final separation. Besides, I knew nothing
-as yet of the sentiments of Beatrice toward myself.
-I was a novice in love; and the silent abstraction
-of her manner, together with the gradually increasing
-avoidance of my presence, filled me with uneasiness,
-despite the conviction of the hopelessness of my
-suit. But what was it to me, I would say, even if
-Beatrice loved me not? Was it not better that it
-should be so? Alas! reason and love are two very
-different things, and though I was better satisfied
-with myself when we made the lights of Charleston
-harbor, yet the almost total separation which had
-thus for nearly two days existed between Beatrice
-and myself, left my heart tormented with all a
-lover’s fears.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was the last evening we would spend together,
-perhaps for years. The wind had died away, and
-we slowly floated upward with the tide, the shores
-of James Island hanging like a dark cloud on the
-larboard beam, and the lights of the distant city,
-glimmering along the horizon inboard; while no
-sound broke the stillness of the hour, except the
-occasional wash of a ripple, or the song of some
-negro fishermen floating across the water. As I
-stood by the starboard railing, gazing on this
-scenery, I could not help contrasting my present
-situation with what it had been but a few short
-weeks before, when I left the harbor of New York.
-So intensely was I wrapt in these thoughts, that I
-did not notice the appearance of Beatrice on deck,
-until the question of the helmsman, dissolving my
-reverie, caused me to look around me. For a moment
-I hesitated whether I should join her or not.
-My feelings at length, however, prevailed; and
-crossing the deck, I soon stood at her side. She
-did not appear to notice my presence, but with her
-elbow resting on the railing, and her head buried
-in her hand, was pensively looking down upon the
-tide.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Miss Derwent!” said I, with a voice that I was
-conscious trembled, though I scarce knew why it
-did.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Mr. Parker!” she ejaculated in a tone of surprise,
-her eyes sparkling, as starting suddenly around
-she blushed over neck and brow, and then as suddenly
-dropped her eyes to the deck, and began
-playing with her fan. For a moment we were both
-mutually embarrassed. A woman is, at such times,
-the first to speak.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Shall we be able to land to-night?” said Beatrice.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not unless a breeze springs up—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh! then I hope we shall not have one,” ejaculated
-the guileless girl; but instantly becoming
-aware of the interpretation which might be put upon
-her remark, she blushed again, and cast her eyes
-anew upon the deck. A strange, joyous hope shot
-through my bosom; but I made a strong effort and
-checked my feelings. Another silence ensued,
-which every moment became more oppressive.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You join, I presume, your cousin’s family on
-landing,” said I at length, “I will, as soon as we
-come to anchor, send a messenger ashore, apprising
-him of your presence on board.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How shall I ever thank you sufficiently,” said
-Beatrice, raising her dark eyes frankly to mine, “for
-your kindness? Never—never,” she continued
-more warmly, “shall I forget it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>My soul thrilled to its deepest fibre at the words,
-and more than all, at the tone of the speaker; and
-it was with some difficulty that I could answer
-calmly,—</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The consciousness of having ever merited Miss
-Derwent’s thanks, is a sufficient reward for all I
-have done. That she will not wholly forget me is
-more than I could ask; but believe me, Beatrice,”
-said I, unable to restrain my feelings, and venturing,
-for the first time, to call her by that name,
-“though we shall soon part forever, never, never
-can I forget these few happy days.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why—do you leave Charleston instantly?”
-said she, with emotion, “shall I not see you again
-after my landing?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I know not how it is, but there are moments
-when our best resolutions vanish as though they
-had never been made; and now, as I looked upon
-the earnest countenance of Beatrice, and felt the
-full meaning of the words so innocently said, a wild
-hope once more shot across my bosom, and I said
-softly,—</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why, Beatrice, would it be aught to you whether
-we ever met again?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She lifted her eyes up to mine, and gazed for an
-instant almost reproachfully upon me, but she did
-not answer. There was something, however, in
-the look encouraging me to go on. I took her
-hand: she did not withdraw it: and, in a few
-hurried, but burning words, I poured forth my
-love.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Say, Beatrice?” I said, “can you, do you love
-me?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>She raised her dark eyes in answer up to mine,
-with an expression I shall never forget, and murmured,
-half inaudibly,—</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You know—you know I do,” and then overcome
-by the consciousness of all she had done, she
-burst into tears.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Can words describe my feelings? Oh! if I had
-the eloquence of a Rosseau I could not portray the
-emotions of that moment. They were wild; they
-were almost uncontrollable. The tone, the words,
-everything convinced me that I was beloved; and
-all my well-formed resolutions were dissipated in a
-moment. Had we been alone I would have caught
-Beatrice to my bosom; but as it was, I could only
-press her hand in silence. I needed not to be assured,
-in more direct terms, of her affection. Henceforth
-she was to me my all. She was the star of
-my destiny!</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The first dawn of morning beheld us abreast of
-the town, and at an early hour the equipage of Mr.
-Rochester, the relative of Beatrice, and whose
-guest she was now to be, was in waiting on the quay
-for my beautiful charge.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You will come to-night, will you not?” said
-she, as I pressed her hand, on conducting her to
-the carriage.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I bowed affirmatively, the door was closed, and
-the sumptuous equipage, with its servants in livery,
-moved rapidly away.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was now that I had parted with Beatrice, that
-the conviction of the almost utter hopelessness of
-my suit forced itself upon my mind. Mr. Rochester
-was the nearest male relative of Beatrice, being her
-maternal uncle. Her parents were both deceased,
-and the uncle, whose death I have related, together
-with the Carolinian nabob, were, by her father’s
-will, her guardians. Mr. Rochester was, therefore,
-her natural protector. Her fortune, though large,
-was fettered with a condition that she should not
-marry without her guardian’s consent, and I soon
-learned that a union had long been projected between
-her and the eldest son of her surviving
-guardian. How little hope I had before, the reader
-knows, but that little was now fearfully diminished.
-It is true Beatrice had owned that she loved me,
-but how could I ask her to sacrifice the comforts
-as well as the elegancies of life, to share her lot
-with a poor unfriended midshipman? I could not
-endure the thought. What! should I take advantage
-of the gratitude of a pure young being—a
-being, too, who had always been nourished in the
-lap of luxury—to subject her to privation, and perhaps
-to beggary? No, rather would I have lived
-wholly absent from her presence. I could almost
-have consented to lose her love, sooner than be the
-instrument of inflicting on her miseries so crushing.
-My only hope was in winning a name that would
-yet entitle me to ask her hand as an equal: my
-only fear was, lest the length of time I should be
-absent from her side, would gradually lose me her
-affection. Such is the jealous fear of a lover’s
-heart.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Meanwhile, however, the whole city resounded
-with the din of war. A despatch from the Secretary
-of Slate, to Gov. Eden, of Maryland, had been intercepted
-by Com. Barron, of the Virginia service,
-in the Chesapeake. From this missive, intelligence
-was gleaned that the capital of South Carolina was
-to be attacked; and on my arrival I found every
-exertion being made to place it in a posture of
-defence. I instantly volunteered, and the duties
-thus assumed, engrossing a large part of my time,
-left me little leisure, even for my suit. Still, however,
-I occasionally saw Beatrice, though the cold
-hauteur with which my visits were received by her
-uncle’s family, much diminished their frequency.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As the time rolled on, however, and the British
-fleet did not make its appearance, there were not
-wanting many who believed that the contemplated
-attack had been given up. But I was not of the
-number. So firm, indeed, was my conviction of
-the truth of the intelligence that I ran out to sea
-every day or two, in a smart-sailing pilot-boat, in
-order, if possible, to gain the first positive knowledge
-of the approach of our foes.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A sail,” shouted our look-out one day, after we
-had been standing off and on for several hours, “a
-sail, broad on the weather-beam!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Every eye was instantly turned toward the quarter
-indicated; spy-glasses were brought into requisition;
-and in a few minutes we made out distinctly nearly
-a dozen sail, on the larboard tack, looming up on
-the northern sea-board. We counted no less than
-six men-of-war, besides several transports. Every
-thing was instantly wet down to the trucks, and
-heading at once for Charleston harbor, we soon
-bore the alarming intelligence to the inhabitants of
-the town.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>That night all was terror and bustle in the tumultuous
-capital. The peaceful citizens, unused to
-bloodshed, gazed upon the approaching conflict with
-mingled resolution and terror, now determining to
-die rather than to be conquered, and now trembling
-for the safety of their wives and little ones. Crowds
-swarmed the wharves, and even put out into the
-bay to catch a sight of the approaching squadron.
-At length it appeared off the bar, and we soon saw
-by their buoying out the channel, that an immediate
-attack was to take place by sea,—while expresses
-brought us hasty intelligence of the progress made
-by the royal troops in landing on Long Island. But
-want of water among our foes, and the indecision
-of their General, protracted the attack for more than
-three weeks, a delay which we eagerly improved.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>At length, on the morning of the 28th of June,
-it became evident that our assailants were preparing
-to commence the attack. Eager to begin my
-career of fame, I sought a post under Col. Moultrie,
-satisfied that the fort on Sullivan’s Island would
-have to maintain the brunt of the conflict.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Never shall I forget the sight which presented
-itself to me on reaching our position. The fort we
-were expected to maintain, was a low building of
-palmetto logs, situated on a tongue of the island,
-and protected in the rear from the royalist troops,
-on Long Island, by a narrow channel, usually fordable,
-but now, owing to the late prevalence of
-easterly winds, providentially filled to a depth of
-some fathoms. In front of us lay the mouth of the
-harbor, commanded on the opposite shore, at the
-distance of about thirty-five hundred yards, by another
-fort in our possession, where Col. Gadsen,
-with a respectable body of troops was posted. To
-the right opened the bay, sweeping almost a quarter
-of the compass around the horizon, toward the
-north,—and on its extreme verge, to the north west,
-rose up Haddrell’s point, where General Lee, our
-commander-in-chief, had taken up a position. About
-half way around, and due west from us, lay the city,
-at the distance of nearly four miles, the view being
-partly intercepted by the low, marshy island, called
-Shute’s Folly, between us and the town.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We have but twenty-eight pounds of powder,
-Mr. Parker, a fact I should not like generally
-known,” said Col. Moultrie to me, “but as you
-have been in action before—more than I can say
-of a dozen of my men—I know you may be trusted
-with the information.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Never doubt the brave continentals here, colonel,”
-I replied, “they are only four hundred, but we
-shall teach yon braggarts a lesson, before to-day is
-over, which they shall not soon forget.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Bravo, my gallant young friend! With my
-twenty-six eighteen and twenty four pounders, plenty
-of powder, and a few hundred fire-eaters like yourself
-I would blow the whole fleet out of water.
-But after all,” said he with good-humored raillery,
-“though you’ll not glory in rescuing Miss Derwent
-to-day, you’ll fight not a whit the worse for
-knowing that she is in Charleston, eh! But, come,
-don’t blush—you must be my aid—I shall want
-you, depend upon it, before the day is over. If
-those red-coats here, behind us, attempt to take us
-in the rear, we shall have hot work,—for by my
-hopes of eternal salvation, I’ll drive them back,
-man and officer, in spite of Gen. Lee’s fears that I
-cannot. But ha! there comes the first bomb.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Looking upward as he spoke, I beheld a large,
-dark body flying through the air; and in the next
-instant, amidst a cheer from our men, it splashed
-into the morass behind us, simmered, and went out.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well sent, old Thunderer,” ejaculated the imperturbable
-colonel, “but, faith, many another good
-bomb will you throw away on the swamps and
-palmetto logs you sneer at. Open upon them, my
-brave fellows, as they come around, and teach them
-what Carolinians can do. Remember, you fight
-to-day for your wives, your children, and your
-liberties. The Continental Congress forever against
-the minions of a tyrannical court.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The battle was now begun. One by one the
-British men-of-war, coming gallantly into their respective
-stations, and dropping their anchors with
-masterly coolness, opened their batteries upon us,
-firing with a rapidity and precision that displayed
-their skill. The odds against which we had
-to contend were indeed formidable. Directly in
-front of us, with springs on their cables, and supported
-by two frigates, were anchored a couple of
-two-deckers; while the three other men-of-war
-were working up to starboard, and endeavoring to
-get a position between us and the town, so as to
-cut off our communications with Haddrell’s Point.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Keep it up—run her out again,” shouted the
-captain of a gun beside me, who was firing deliberately,
-but with murderous precision, every shot
-of his piece telling on the hull of one of the British
-cruizers, “huzza for Carolina!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Here comes the broadside of Sir Peter’s two-decker,”
-shouted another one, “make way for the
-British iron among the palmetto logs. Ha! old
-yellow breeches how d’ye like that?” he continued
-as the shot from his piece, struck the quarter of the
-flag-ship, knocking the splinters high into the air,
-and cutting transversely through and through her
-crowded decks.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Meanwhile the three men-of-war attempting to
-cut off our communications, had got entangled
-among the shoals to our right, and now lay utterly
-helpless, engaged in attempting to get afloat, and
-unable to fire a gun. Directly two of them ran afoul,
-carrying away the bowsprit of the smaller one.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Huzza!” shouted the old bruiser again, squinting
-a moment in that direction, “they’re smashing
-each other to pieces there without our help, and
-so here goes at smashing their messmates in
-front here—what the devil,” he continued, turning
-smartly around to cuff a powder boy, “what are
-you gaping up stream for, when you should be
-waiting on me?—take that you varmint, and see if
-you can do as neat a thing as this when you’re
-old enough to point a gun. By the Lord Harry
-I’ve cut away that fore-top-mast as clean as a
-whistle.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Meantime the conflict waxed hotter and hotter,
-and through the long summer afternoon, except
-during an interval when we slackened it for want
-of powder, our brave fellows, with the coolness of
-veterans, and the enthusiasm of youth, kept up
-their fire. A patriotic ardor burned along our
-lines, which only became more resistless, as the
-wounded were carried past in the arms of their
-comrades. The contest was at its height when
-General Lee arrived from the mainland to offer to
-remove us if we wished to abandon our perilous
-position.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Abandon our position, General!” said Colonel
-Moultrie, “will your excellency but visit the guns,
-and ask the men whether they will give up the
-fort? No, we will die or conquer here.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The eye of the Commander-in-Chief flashed
-proudly at this reply, and stepping out upon the
-plain, he approached a party who were firing with
-terrible precision upon the British fleet. This
-fearless exposure of his person called forth a cheer
-from the men; but without giving him time to
-remain long in so dangerous a position, Colonel
-Moultrie exclaimed,</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“My brave fellows, the general has come off to
-offer to remove you to the main if you are tired of
-your post. Shall it be?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There was a universal negative, every man declaring
-he would sooner die at his gun. It was a
-noble sight. Their eyes flashing; their chests dilated;
-their brawny arms bared and covered with
-smoke, they stood there, determined, to a man, to
-save their native soil at every cost, from invasion.
-At this moment a group appeared, carrying a poor
-fellow, whom it could be seen at a glance was
-mortally wounded. His lips were blue; his countenance
-ghastly; and his dim eye rolled uneasily
-about. He breathed heavily. But as he approached
-us, the shouts of his fellow soldiers falling on his
-ear, aroused his dying faculties, and lifting himself
-heavily up, his eye, after wandering inquiringly
-about, caught the sight of his general.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“God bless you! my poor fellow,” said Lee,
-compassionately, “you are, I fear, seriously hurt.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The dying man looked at him as if not comprehending
-his remark, and then fixing his eye
-upon his general, said faintly,</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Did not some one talk of abandoning the fort?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” answered Lee, “I offered to remove you
-or let you fight it out—but I see you brave fellows
-would rather die than retreat.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Die!” said the wounded man, raising himself
-half upright, with sudden strength, while his eye
-gleamed with a brighter lustre than even in health.
-“I thank my God that I am dying, if we can only
-beat the British back. Die! I have no family, and
-my life is well given for the freedom of my country.
-No, my men, never retreat,” he continued, turning to
-his fellow soldiers, and waving his arm around his
-head, “huzza for li—i—ber—ty—huz—za—a—a,”
-and as the word died away, quivering in his throat,
-he fell back, a twitch passed over his face, and he
-was dead.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Need I detail the rest of that bloody day? For
-nine hours, without intermission, the cannonade was
-continued with a rapidity on the part of our foes,
-and a murderous precision on that of ourselves,
-such as I have never since seen equalled. Night
-did not terminate the conflict. The long afternoon
-wore away; the sun went down; the twilight came
-and vanished; darkness reigned over the distant
-shores around us, yet the flash of the guns, and the
-roar of the explosions did not cease. As the evening
-grew more obscure the whole horizon became illuminated
-by the fire of our batteries, and the long,
-meteor-like tracks of the shells through the sky.
-The crash of spars; the shouts of the men; and
-the thunder of the cannonade formed meanwhile a
-discord as terrible as it was exciting; while the
-lights flashing along the bay, and twinkling from
-our encampment at Haddrell’s Point, made the
-scene even picturesque.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Long was the conflict, and desperately did our enemies
-struggle to maintain their posts. Even when
-the cable of the flag-ship had been cut away, and
-swinging around with her stern toward us, every
-shot from our battery was enabled to traverse the
-whole length of her decks, amid terrific slaughter,
-she did not display a sign of fear, but doggedly
-maintained her position, keeping up a straggling
-fire upon us, for some time, from such of her guns
-as could be brought to bear. At length, however,
-a new cable was rigged upon her, and swinging
-around broadside on, she resumed her fire. But it
-was in vain. Had they fought till doomsday they
-could not have overcome the indomitable courage
-of men warring for their lives and liberties; and
-finding that our fire only grew more deadly at
-every discharge, Sir Peter Parker at length made
-the signal to retire. One of the frigates farther in
-the bay had grounded, however, so firmly on the
-shoals that she could not be got off; and when she
-was abandoned and fired next morning, our brave
-fellows, despite the flames wreathing already around
-her, boarded her, and fired at the retreating squadron
-until it was out of range. They had not finally
-deserted her more than a quarter of an hour before
-she blew up with a stunning shock.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The rejoicing among the inhabitants after this
-signal victory were long and joyous. We were
-thanked; feted; and became <span class='it'>lions</span> at once. The
-tory families, among which was that of Mr. Rochester,
-maintained, however, a sullen silence.
-The suspicion which such conduct created made
-it scarcely advisable that I should become a constant
-visitor at his mansion, even if the cold civility
-of his family had not, as I have stated before, furnished
-other obstacles to my seeing Beatrice. Mr.
-Rochester, it is true, had thanked me for the services
-I had rendered his ward, but he had done so
-in a manner frigid and reserved to the last degree,
-closing his expression of gratitude with an offer of
-pecuniary recompense, which not only made the
-blood tingle in my veins, but detracted from the
-value of what little he had said.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A fortnight had now elapsed since I had seen
-Beatrice, and I was still delayed at Charleston,
-waiting for a passage to the north, and arranging
-the proceeds of our prize, when I received an invitation
-to a ball at the house of one of the leaders
-of ton, who affecting a neutrality in politics, issued
-cards indiscriminately to both parties. Feeling a
-presentiment that Beatrice would be there, and
-doubtless unaccompanied by her uncle or cousin,
-I determined to go, and seek an opportunity to
-bid her farewell, unobserved, before my departure.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The rooms were crowded to excess. All that
-taste could suggest, or wealth afford, had been
-called into requisition to increase the splendor of
-the <span class='it'>fete</span>. Rich chandeliers; sumptuous ottomans;
-flowers of every hue; and an array of loveliness
-such as I have rarely seen equalled, made the lofty
-apartments almost a fairy palace. But amid that
-throng of beauty there was but one form which
-attracted my eye. It was that of Beatrice. She
-was surrounded by a crowd of admirers, and I felt
-a pang of almost jealousy, when I saw her, as I
-thought, smiling as gaily as the most thoughtless
-beauty present. But as I drew nearer I noticed
-that, amid all her affected gaiety, a sadness would
-momentarily steal over her fine countenance, like
-a cloud flitting over a sunny summer landscape.
-As I edged toward her through the crowd, her eye
-caught mine, and in an instant lighted up with a
-joyousness that was no longer assumed. I felt repaid,
-amply repaid by that one glance, for all the
-doubts I had suffered during the past fortnight; but
-the formalities of etiquette prevented me from doing
-aught except to return an answering glance, and
-solicit the hand of Beatrice.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh! why have you been absent so long?” said
-the dear girl, after the dance had been concluded,
-and we had sauntered together, as if involuntarily,
-into a conservatory behind the ball room, “every
-one is talking of your conduct at the fort—do you
-know I too am a rebel—and <span class='it'>do</span> you then sail
-for the north?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes, dearest,” I replied, “and I have sought
-you to-night to bid you adieu for months—it may
-be for years. God only knows, Beatrice,” and I
-pressed her hand against my heart, “when we shall
-meet again. Perhaps you may not even hear from
-me; the war will doubtless cut off the communications;
-and sweet one, say will you still love me,
-though others may be willing to say that I have
-forgotten you?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh! how can you ask me? But you—will—write—won’t
-you?” and she lifted those deep,
-dark, liquid eyes to mine, gazing confidingly upon
-me, until my soul swam in ecstacy. My best answer
-was a renewed pressure of that small, fair
-hand.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And Beatrice,” said I, venturing upon a topic,
-to which I had never yet alluded, “if they seek to
-wed you to another will you—you still be mine
-only?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“How can you ask so cruel a question?” was
-the answer, in a tone so low and sweet, yet half
-reproachful, that no ear but that of a lover could
-have heard it. “Oh! you know better—you
-know,” she added, with energy, “that they have
-already planned a marriage between me and my
-cousin; but never, never can I consent to wed
-where my heart goes not with my hand. And
-now you know all,” she said tearfully, “and though
-they may forbid me to think of you, yet I can never
-forget the past. No, believe me, Beatrice Derwent
-where once she has plighted her faith, will never
-afterward betray it,” and overcome by her emotions,
-the fair girl leaned upon my shoulder and
-wept long and freely.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But I will not protract the scene. Anew we
-exchanged our protestations of love, and after waiting
-until Beatrice had grown composed we returned
-to the ball room. Under the plea of illness I
-saw her soon depart, nor was I long in following.
-No one, however, had noticed our absence. Her
-haughty uncle, in his luxurious library, little suspected
-the scene that had that night occurred. But
-his conduct, I felt, had exonerated me from every
-obligation to him, and I determined to win his
-ward, if fortune favored me, in despite of his opposition.
-My honor was no longer concerned against
-me: I felt free to act as I chose.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The British fleet meanwhile, having been seen no
-more upon the coast, the communication with the
-north, by sea, became easy again. New York,
-however, was in the possession of the enemy, and a
-squadron was daily expected at the mouth of Delaware
-Bay. To neither of these ports, consequently,
-could I obtain a passage. Nor indeed did I wish
-it. There was no possibility that the <span class='sc'>Fire-Fly</span>
-would enter, either, to re-victual, and as I was anxious
-to join her, it was useless to waste time in a port
-where she could not enter. Newport held out the
-only chance to me for rejoining my vessel. It was
-but a day’s travel from thence to Boston, and at
-one or the other of these places I felt confident the
-<span class='sc'>Fire-Fly</span> would appear before winter.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The very day, however, after seeing Beatrice, I
-obtained a passage in a brig, which had been bound
-to another port, but whose destination the owners
-had changed to Newport, almost on the eve of sailing.
-I instantly made arrangements for embarking in
-her, having already disposed of our prize, and invested
-the money in a manner which I knew would
-allow it to be distributed among the crew of the
-<span class='sc'>Fire-Fly</span> at the earliest opportunity. My parting
-with Col. Moultrie was like parting from a father.
-He gave me his blessing; I carried my kit on
-board; and before forty-eight hours I was once
-more at sea.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk105'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='dream'></a>THE DREAM OF THE DELAWARE.</h1></div>
-
-<div class='literal-container' style=''><div class='literal'> <!-- rend=';fs:0.9em;' -->
-<p class='line' style='font-size:0.9em;'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;“Sleep hath its own world,</p>
-<p class='line' style='font-size:0.9em;'>And a wide realm of wild reality,</p>
-<p class='line' style='font-size:0.9em;'>And dreams in their development have breath,</p>
-<p class='line' style='font-size:0.9em;'>And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy.”</p>
-</div></div> <!-- end rend -->
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'><span class='sc'>On</span> Alligewi’s<a id='r1'/><a href='#f1' style='text-decoration:none'><sup><span style='font-size:0.9em'>[1]</span></sup></a> mountain height</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;An Indian hunter lay reclining,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Gazing upon the sunset light</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;In all its loveliest grace declining.</p>
-<p class='line0'>Onward the chase he had since dawn</p>
-<p class='line0'>Pursued, with swift-winged step, o’er lawn,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And pine-clad steep, and winding dell,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And deep ravine, and covert nook</p>
-<p class='line0'>Wherein the red-deer loves to dwell,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And silent cove, and brawling brook;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Yet not till twilight’s mists descending,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Had dimmed the wooded vales below,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Did he, his homeward pathway wending,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Droop ’neath his spoil, with footsteps slow.</p>
-<p class='line0'>Then, as he breathless paused, and faint,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The shout of joy that pealed on high</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;As broke that landscape on his eye,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Imaginings alone can paint.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Down on the granite brow, his prey,</p>
-<p class='line0'>In all its antlered glory lay.</p>
-<p class='line0'>His plumage flowed above the spoil—</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;His quiver, and the slackened bow,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Companions of his ceaseless toil,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Lay careless at its side below.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Oh! who might gaze, and not grow brighter,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;More pure, more holy, and serene;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Who might not feel existence lighter</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Beneath the power of such a scene?</p>
-<p class='line0'>Marking the blush of light ascending</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;From where the sun had set afar,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Tinting each fleecy cloud, and blending</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;With the pale azure; while each star</p>
-<p class='line0'>Came smiling forth ’mid roseate hue,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And deepened into brighter lustre</p>
-<p class='line0'>As Night, with shadowy fingers threw</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Her dusky mantle round each cluster.</p>
-<p class='line0'>Purple, and floods of gold, were streaming</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Around the sunset’s crimson way,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And all the impassioned west was gleaming</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;With the rich flush of dying day.</p>
-<p class='line0'>Far, far below the wandering sight,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Seen through the gath’ring gloom of night,</p>
-<p class='line0'>A mighty river rushing on,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Seemed dwindled to a fairy’s zone.</p>
-<p class='line0'>No bark upon its wave was seen,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Or if ’twas there, it glided by</p>
-<p class='line0'>As viewless forms, that once have been,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Will flit, half-seen, before the eye.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Long gazed the hunter on that sight,</p>
-<p class='line0'>’Till twilight darkened into night,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Dim and more dim the landscape grew,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And duskier was the empyrean blue;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Glittered a thousand stars on high,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And wailed the night-wind sadly by;</p>
-<p class='line0'>And slowly fading, one by one,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Cliff, cloud, ravine, and mountain pass</p>
-<p class='line0'>Grew darker still, and yet more dun,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;’Till deep’ning to a shadowy mass,</p>
-<p class='line0'>They seemed to mingle, earth and sky,</p>
-<p class='line0'>In one wild, weird-like canopy.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Yet lo! that hunter starts, and one</p>
-<p class='line0'>Whom it were heaven to gaze upon,</p>
-<p class='line0'>A beauteous girl,—as ’twere a fawn,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;So playful, wild, and gentle too,—</p>
-<p class='line0'>Came bounding o’er the shadowy lawn,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;With step as light, and love as true.</p>
-<p class='line0'>It was Echucha! she, his bride,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Dearer than all of earth beside,—</p>
-<p class='line0'>For she had left her sire’s far home,</p>
-<p class='line0'>The woodland depths with him to roam</p>
-<p class='line0'>Who was that sire’s embittered foe!</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And there, in loveliness alone,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;With him her opening beauty shone.</p>
-<p class='line0'>But even while he gazed, that form,</p>
-<p class='line0'>As fades the lightning in the storm,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Passed quickly from his sight.</p>
-<p class='line0'>He looked again, no one was there,</p>
-<p class='line0'>No voice was on the stilly air,</p>
-<p class='line0'>No step upon the greensward fair,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;But all around was night.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>She past, but thro’ that hunter’s mind,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;What wild’ring memories are rushing,</p>
-<p class='line0'>As harps, beneath a summer wind,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;With wild, mysterious lays are gushing.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Fast came rememb’rance of that eve,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Whose first wild throb of earthly bliss</p>
-<p class='line0'>Was but to gaze, and to receive</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The boon of hope so vast as this—</p>
-<p class='line0'>To clasp that being as his own,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;To win her from her native bowers;</p>
-<p class='line0'>And form a spirit-land, alone</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;With her amid perennial flowers.</p>
-<p class='line0'>And as he thought, that dark, deep eye,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Seemed hovering as ’twas wont to bless,</p>
-<p class='line0'>When the soft hand would on him lie,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And sooth his soul to happiness.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Like the far-off stream, in its murmurings low,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Like the first warm breath of spring,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Like the Wickolis in its plaintive flow,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Or the ring-dove’s fluttering wing,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Came swelling along the balmy air,</p>
-<p class='line0'>As if a spirit itself was there,</p>
-<p class='line0'>So sweet, so soft, so rich a strain,</p>
-<p class='line0'>It might not bless the ear again,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Now breathed afar, now swelling near,</p>
-<p class='line0'>It gushed on the enraptured ear;—</p>
-<p class='line0'>And hark! was it her well-known tone?</p>
-<p class='line0'>No—naught is heard but the voice alone.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>“Warrior of the Lenape race,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Thou of the oak that cannot bend,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Of noble brow and stately grace,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And agile step, of the Tamenend,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;Arise—come thou with me!</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Echucha waits in silent glade,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Her eyes the eagle’s gaze assume,</p>
-<p class='line0'>As daylight’s golden glories fade,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;To catch afar her hunter’s plume,—</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;But naught, naught can she see.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Her hair is decked with ocean shell,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The vermeil bright is on her brow,</p>
-<p class='line0'>The peag zone enclasps her well,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Her heart is sad beneath it now,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;She weeps, and weeps for thee.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>With early dawn thou hiedst away,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;In reckless sports the hours to while,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Oh! sweet as flowers, in moonlit ray,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Shall be thy look, thy voice, thy smile,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;When again she looks on thee!</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;Oh! come, come then with me.”</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Scarce ceased the strain, when silence deep,</p>
-<p class='line0'>As broods o’er an unbroken sleep,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Seemed hovering round; then slowly came</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;A glow athwart the darkling night,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Bursting at length to mid-day flame,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And bathing hill and vale in light.</p>
-<p class='line0'>While suddenly a form flits by</p>
-<p class='line0'>With step as fleet, as through the sky</p>
-<p class='line0'>The morning songster skims along</p>
-<p class='line0'>Preceded by his matchless song.</p>
-<p class='line0'>So glided she; yet not unseen</p>
-<p class='line0'>Her graceful gait, her brow serene,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Her finely modelled limbs so round,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Her raven tresses all unbound,</p>
-<p class='line0'>That flashing out, and hidden now,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Waved darkly on each snowy shoulder,—</p>
-<p class='line0'>As springing from the mountain’s brow,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Eager and wild that one to know,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The hunter hurried to behold her.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>On, on the beauteous phantom glides</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Beneath the sombre, giant pines</p>
-<p class='line0'>That stud the steep and rugged sides</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Of pendant cliffs, and deep ravines;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Down many a wild descent and dell</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;O’ergrown with twisted lichens rude;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Yet where she passed a halo fell</p>
-<p class='line0'>To guide the footsteps that pursued,—</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Like that fell wonder of the sky</p>
-<p class='line0'>That flashes o’er the starry space,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And leaves its glitt’ring wake on high,</p>
-<p class='line0'>For man portentous truths to trace.</p>
-<p class='line0'>And onward, onward still that light</p>
-<p class='line0'>Was all which beamed upon the sight.</p>
-<p class='line0'>Of figure he could naught descry,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Invisible it seemed to fly;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Alluring on with magic art</p>
-<p class='line0'>That half disclosing, hid in part.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Bright, beautiful, resistless Fate!</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Oh! what is like thy magic will,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Which men in blind obedience wait,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Yet deem themselves unfettered still!</p>
-<p class='line0'>By thee impelled that hunter sped</p>
-<p class='line0'>Through shadowy wood, o’er flowery bed;</p>
-<p class='line0'>When angels else, beneath his eye,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Had passed unseen, unnoticed by.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>The Indian brave! that stoic wild,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Philosophy’s untutored child,</p>
-<p class='line0'>A being, such as wisdom’s torch</p>
-<p class='line0'>Enkindled ’neath the attic porch,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Where the Phoenician stern and eld,</p>
-<p class='line0'>His wise man<a id='r2'/><a href='#f2' style='text-decoration:none'><sup><span style='font-size:0.9em'>[2]</span></sup></a> to the world revealing,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Divined not western wildness held</p>
-<p class='line0'>Untutored ones less swayed by feeling;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Whose firm endurance fire nor stake</p>
-<p class='line0'>Nor torture’s fiercest pangs might shake.</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Yes! matter, mind, the eternal whole,</p>
-<p class='line0'>In apprehension revelling free,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Evolved that fearlessness of soul</p>
-<p class='line0'>Which Greece<a id='r3'/><a href='#f3' style='text-decoration:none'><sup><span style='font-size:0.9em'>[3]</span></sup></a> saw but in theory.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Still on that beauteous phantom fled,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And still behind the hunter sped.</p>
-<p class='line0'>Nor turned she ’till where many a rock</p>
-<p class='line0'>Lay rent as by an earthquake’s shock,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And through the midst a stream its way</p>
-<p class='line0'>Held on ’mid showers of falling spray,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Marking by one long line of foam</p>
-<p class='line0'>Its passage from its mountain home.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>But now, amid the light mist glancing</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Like elf or water-nymph, the maid</p>
-<p class='line0'>With ravishment of form entrancing</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The spell-bound gazer, stood displayed.</p>
-<p class='line0'>So looked that Grecian maiden’s face,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;So every grace and movement shone,</p>
-<p class='line0'>When ’neath the sculptor’s wild embrace,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Life, love, and rapture flushed from stone.</p>
-<p class='line0'>She paused, as if her path to trace</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Through the thick mist that boiled on high,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Then turning full her unseen face,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;There, there, the same, that lustrous eye,</p>
-<p class='line0'>So fawn-like in its glance and hue</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;As when he first had met its ray,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Echucha’s self, revealed to view—</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;She smiled, and shadowy sank away.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Again ’twas dawn: that hunter’s gaze</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Was wand’ring o’er a wide expanse</p>
-<p class='line0'>Of inland lake, half hid in haze</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;That waved beneath the morning’s glance.</p>
-<p class='line0'>The circling wood, so still and deep</p>
-<p class='line0'>Its sombre hush, seemed yet asleep;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Save when at intervals from tree</p>
-<p class='line0'>A lone bird woke its minstrelsy,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Or flitting off from spray to spray</p>
-<p class='line0'>’Mid glittering dew pursued its way.</p>
-<p class='line0'>When lo! upon the list’ning ear</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The rustling of a distant tread,</p>
-<p class='line0'>That pausing oft drew ever near</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;A causeless apprehension spread.</p>
-<p class='line0'>And from a nook, a snow-white Hind</p>
-<p class='line0'>Came bounding—beauteous of its kind!—</p>
-<p class='line0'>Seeking the silver pebbled strand</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Within the tide her feet to lave,</p>
-<p class='line0'>E’re noonday’s sun should wave his wand</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Of fire across the burnished wave.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Never hath mortal eye e’er seen</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Such fair proportion blent with grace;</p>
-<p class='line0'>A creature with so sweet a mien</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Might only find its flitting place</p>
-<p class='line0'>In that bright land far, far away</p>
-<p class='line0'>Where Indian hunters, legends say,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Pursue the all-enduring chase.</p>
-<p class='line0'>The beautifully tapered head,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The slender ear, the eye so bright,</p>
-<p class='line0'>The curving neck, the agile tread,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The strength, the eloquence, the flight</p>
-<p class='line0'>Of limbs tenuitively small,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Seemed imaged forth, a thing of light</p>
-<p class='line0'>Springing at Nature’s magic call.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>The sparkling surge broke at her feet,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Rippling upon the pebbly brink,</p>
-<p class='line0'>As gracefully its waters sweet</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;She curved her glossy neck to drink.</p>
-<p class='line0'>Yet scarce she tasted, ere she gazed</p>
-<p class='line0'>Wildly around like one amazed,</p>
-<p class='line0'>With head erect, and eye of fear,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And trembling, quick-extended ear.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Still as the serpent’s hushed advance,</p>
-<p class='line0'>The hunter, with unmoving glance,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Wound on to where a beech-tree lay</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Half buried in the snowy sand:</p>
-<p class='line0'>He crouches ’neath its sapless spray</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;To nerve his never-failing hand.</p>
-<p class='line0'>A whiz—a start—her rolling eye</p>
-<p class='line0'>Hath caught the danger lurking nigh.</p>
-<p class='line0'>She flies, but only for a space;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Then turns with sad reproachful face;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Then rallying forth her wonted strength,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;She backward threw her matchless head,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Flung on the wind her tap’ring length,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And onward swift and swifter sped,—</p>
-<p class='line0'>O’er sward, and plain, and snowy strand,</p>
-<p class='line0'>By mossy rocks, through forests grand,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Which there for centuries had stood</p>
-<p class='line0'>Rustling in their wild solitude.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>On, on, in that unwearied chase</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;With tireless speed imbued,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Went sweeping with an eldrich pace</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Pursuing and pursued!</p>
-<p class='line0'>’Till, as the sinking orb of day,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Glowed brighter with each dying ray,</p>
-<p class='line0'>The fleetness of that form was lost,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Dark drops of blood her pathway crost,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And faint and fainter drooped that head,—</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;She falters—sinks—one effort more—</p>
-<p class='line0'>’Tis vain—her noontide strength has fled—</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;She falls upon the shore.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>One eager bound—the Hunter’s knife</p>
-<p class='line0'>Sank deep to end her struggling life;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Yet, e’en as flashed the murd’rous blade,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;There came a shrill and plaintive cry:</p>
-<p class='line0'>The Hind was not—a beauteous maid</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Lay gasping with upbraiding eye.</p>
-<p class='line0'>The glossy head and neck were gone,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The snowy furs that clasped her round;</p>
-<p class='line0'>And in their place the peag zone,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And raven hair that all unbound</p>
-<p class='line0'>Upon her heaving bosom lies</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And mingles with the rushing gore,</p>
-<p class='line0'>The sandaled foot, the fawn-like eyes;</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;All, all are there—he needs no more—</p>
-<p class='line0'>“Echucha—ha!” The dream hath passed;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Cold clammy drops were thick and fast</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Upon the awakened warrior’s brow,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And the wild eye that flashed around</p>
-<p class='line0'>To penetrate the dark profound,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Seemed fired with Frenzy’s glow.</p>
-<p class='line0'>Yet all was still, while far above,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Nestling in calm and holy love,</p>
-<p class='line0'>The watchful stars intensely bright</p>
-<p class='line0'>Gleamed meekly through the moonless night.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>The Hunter gazed,—and from his brow</p>
-<p class='line0'>Passed slowly off that fevered glow,</p>
-<p class='line0'>For what the troubled soul can bless</p>
-<p class='line0'>Like such a scene of loveliness?</p>
-<p class='line0'>He raised his quiver from his side,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And downward with his antlered prey,</p>
-<p class='line0'>To meet his lone Ojibway bride,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;He gaily took his joyous way.</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;A. F. H.</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<hr class='footnotemark'/>
-
-<div class='footnote'>
-<table summary='footnote_1'>
-<colgroup>
-<col span='1' class='footnoteid'/>
-<col span='1'/>
-</colgroup>
-<tr><td style='vertical-align:top;'>
-<div class='footnote-id' id='f1'><a href='#r1'>[1]</a></div>
-</td><td>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The Alleghany.</p>
-
-</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-
-<div class='footnote'>
-<table summary='footnote_2'>
-<colgroup>
-<col span='1' class='footnoteid'/>
-<col span='1'/>
-</colgroup>
-<tr><td style='vertical-align:top;'>
-<div class='footnote-id' id='f2'><a href='#r2'>[2]</a></div>
-</td><td>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Zeno imagined his wise man, not only free from all
-sense of pleasure, but void of all passions, and emotions
-capable of being happy in the midst of torture.</p>
-
-</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-
-<div class='footnote'>
-<table summary='footnote_3'>
-<colgroup>
-<col span='1' class='footnoteid'/>
-<col span='1'/>
-</colgroup>
-<tr><td style='vertical-align:top;'>
-<div class='footnote-id' id='f3'><a href='#r3'>[3]</a></div>
-</td><td>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The stoics were philosophers, rather in words than in
-deeds.</p>
-
-</td></tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-
-<hr class='tbk106'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='mygran'></a>MY GRANDMOTHER’S TANKARD.</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>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>My</span> grandmother was one of the old school.
-She was a fine, portly built old lady, with a smart
-laced cap. She hated snuff and spectacles, and
-never lost her scissors, because she always kept
-them fastened to her side by a silver chain. As
-for scandal she never indulged in its use, believing,
-as she said, that truth was stranger than fiction and
-twice as cutting.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>My grandmother had a penchant for old times
-and old things, she delighted to dwell upon the
-history of the past, and once a year on the day of
-thanksgiving and prayer, she appeared in all the
-glories of a departed age. Her head bore an enormous
-cushion—her waist was doubly fortified with
-a stomacher of whale-bone and brocade. Her skirt
-spread out its ample folds of brocade and embroidery
-below, flanked by two enormous pockets. Her
-well-turned ankles were covered with blue worsted
-stockings, with scarlet clocks, and her underpinning
-was completed by a pair of high quartered russet
-shoes mounted upon a couple of extravagant red
-heels. When the hour for service drew near, she
-added a high bonnet of antique form, made of black
-satin, and a long red cloak of narrow dimensions.
-Thus clothed, as she ascended the long slope that
-led to the old Presbyterian meeting house, she appeared
-like a British grenadier with his arms shot
-off, going to the pay office for his pension.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Her memory improved by age, for she doubtless
-recollected some things which never happened, and
-her powers of description were equal to those of
-Sir Walter Scott’s old crone, whose wild legends
-awoke the master’s mind to a sense of its own high
-powers.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>My grandmother came through the revolution a
-buxom dame, and her legends of cow boys and
-tories, of white washed chimnies and tar and featherings,
-of battles by sea, and of “skrimmages,” as
-she termed them, by land, would have filled a volume
-as large as Fox’s book of the Martyrs, and made in
-the language of the day a far more <span class='it'>readable work</span>.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I was her pet—her auditor: I knew when to
-smile, and when to look grave—when to approach
-her, and when to retire from her presence; her
-pocket was my paradise, and her old cup-board my
-seventh heaven.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Many a red streaked apple and twisted doughnut
-have I munched from the former,—and many a
-Pisgah glimpse have I had of the bright pewter and
-brighter silver that garnished the latter. Among
-the old lady’s silver was a venerable massive tankard
-that had come down from the early settlers
-of Quinapiack, and she prized it far above many
-weightier and more useful vessels. This relic always
-attracted my notice—a coat of arms was
-pictured upon one side of it, and underneath it the
-family name in old English letters, stood out like
-letters upon an iron sign. It was of London
-manufacture, and must have been in use long before
-the Pilgrims sailed for Plymouth. It had,
-doubtless, been drained by cavaliers and roundheads
-in the sea girt isle,</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>“Ere the May flower lay</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;In the stormy bay,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;And rocked by a barren shore.”</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'>The history of this venerable relic was my grandmother’s
-hobby, and as she is no longer with us
-to relate the story herself, I will hand it down in
-print, that posterity, if so disposed, may know
-something also of</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>MY GRANDMOTHER’S TANKARD.</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>In</span> the year 1636, a company of fighting men
-from the Massachusetts colony, pursued a party
-of Pequots to the borders of a swamp in the present
-county of Fairfield, in Connecticut, and destroyed
-them by fire.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The soldiers on their return to the colony spoke
-in rapture of a goodly land through which they
-passed in the south country, bordering upon a river
-and bay, called by the Indians Quinapiack, and by
-the Dutch the Vale of the Red Rocks.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In the year 1637, the New Haven company,
-beaten out by the toils and privations of a long
-and boisterous voyage across the Atlantic, landed
-at the mouth of the Charles River, and continued
-for a season inactive in the pleasant tabernacles of
-the early pilgrims. Hearing of the fair and goodly
-land beyond the Connectiquet, or Long River, and
-disliking the sterile shores of Massachusetts bay,
-the newly arrived company sent spies into the land
-to view the second Canaan, and bring them a true
-report.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In 1638, having received a favorable account
-from the pioneers, the company embarked, and
-sailed for that fair land, and at the close of the
-tenth day the Red Rocks appeared frowning grimly
-against the western horizon, and the Quinapiack
-spread out its silver bosom to receive them. The
-vessel that brought the colony, landed them on the
-eastern shore of a little creek now filled up and
-called the meadows, about twenty rods from the
-corner of College and George streets, in New
-Haven, and directly opposite to the famous old
-oak, under whose broad branches Mr. Davenport
-preached his first sermon to the settlers, “Upon
-the Temptations of the Wilderness.” Time, that
-rude old gentleman, has wrought many changes in
-the harbor of Quinapiack since the days of the
-pilgrims; and a regiment of purple cabbages are
-now growing where the adventurers’ bark rested
-her wave-worn keel.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In 1638, having laid out a city of nine squares,
-the company met in Newman’s barn, and formed
-their constitution. At this meeting it was ordered
-that the laws of Moses should govern the colony
-until the elders had time to make better ones.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Theophilus Eaton, Esq. was chosen the first
-governor: and the whole power of the people was
-vested in the governor, Mr. Davenport, the minister,
-his deacon, and the seven pillars of the church
-of Quinapiack. Here was church and state with
-a vengeance, and the pilgrims who sought freedom
-to worship God found freedom to worship him as
-they pleased, provided they worshipped him <span class='it'>as Mr.
-Davenport</span> directed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The seven pillars of the church were wealthy
-laymen, and were its principal support; among the
-number I find the names of those staunch old colonists,
-Matthew Gilbert and John Panderson.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Governor Eaton was an eminent merchant in
-London, and when he arrived at Quinapiack, his
-ledger was transformed into a book of records for
-the colony. It is now to be seen with his accounts
-in one end of it, and the records in the other. The
-principal settlers of New Haven were rich London
-merchants. They brought with them great wealth,
-and calculated in the new world to engage in commerce,
-free from the trammels that clogged them
-in England. They could not be contented with
-the old colony location. They now found a beautiful
-harbor—a fine country—and a broad river:
-but no trade. Where all were sellers there could
-be no buyers. They had stores but no customers:
-ships but no Wapping: and they soon began to sigh
-for merry England, and the wharves of crowded
-marts. In three years after landing at New Haven,
-a large number of these settlers determined to return
-to their native land.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Accordingly a vessel was purchased in Rhode
-Island, a crazy old tub of a thing that bade fair to
-sail as fast broadside on as any way, whose sails
-were rotten with age, and whose timbers were
-pierced by the worms of years. Having brought
-the vessel round to New Haven, the colonists,
-under the direction of the old ship master Lamberton,
-repaired and fitted her for sea.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The day before Captain Lamberton intended to
-sail, Eugene Foster, the son of a wealthy merchant
-in London, and Grace Gilman, the daughter of one
-of the wealthy worthies of Quinapiack, wandered
-out of the settlement and ascended the East Rock.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Grace Gilman was the niece of my great, great
-grandmother. Possessing a brilliant mind, a lovely
-countenance, and a form of perfect symmetry, she
-occupied no small share of every single gentleman’s
-mind asleep or awake, in the colony. Her dark
-hair hung in ringlets about a neck of alabaster, and
-sheltered with smaller curls a cheek where the lily
-and the rose held sweet communion together.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Foster had followed the object of his love to her
-western home, and having gained Elder Gilman’s
-consent to his union with the flower of Quinapiack,
-he was now ready to return in the vessel to his
-native land, for the purpose of preparing for a
-speedy settlement in the colony.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Eugene Foster was a noble, spirited youth, of
-high literary attainments. Besides his frequent excursions
-with the scouts, had made him an experienced
-woodman and hunter. His countenance was pleasant;
-his eye possessed the fire of genius; and his
-form was tall and commanding.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was a glorious morning in autumn. The
-whole space around the settlement was one vast
-forest, and the frost had tipped the leaves of the
-trees with russet crimson and gold. The bare
-sumac lifted its red core on high, and the crab
-apple hung its bright fruit over every crag. The
-maple shook its blood-colored leaves around, and
-the chesnut and walnut came pattering down from
-their lofty heights, like hail from a summer cloud.
-The heath hens sate drumming the morning away
-upon the mouldering trunks, whose tops had waved
-above the giants of the forest in former ages. The
-grey squirrel sprang from limb to limb. The flying
-squirrel sailed from tree to tree in his downward
-flight; and the growling wild cat glided swiftly
-down the vistas of the wood with her shrieking
-prey.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The blue jay piped all hands from the deep
-woods—and the hawk, as he sailed over the partridge’s
-brood, shrieked the wild death cry of the
-air. A haze rested upon the distant heights, and
-a cloud of mellow light rolled over the little settlement,
-and faded into silver upon the broad sound
-that stretched out before it.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was nearly noon when the lovers—whose
-conversation on such an occasion I must leave the
-reader to imagine—turned from the enchanting
-prospect, which at this day exceeds any thing
-in America—to return to the settlement. Two
-Indians, of the Narragansett tribe, now bounded
-from the thicket, and before Foster could bring his
-musketoon to its rest—for he always went armed—they
-levelled him to the earth. A green withe was
-speedily twined around his arms, and he was apparently
-as powerless as a child. Grace sprang to a
-little path that led to the parapet of the bluff and
-screamed for help; that scream was her salvation,
-for the Indian who was binding Foster’s hands, left
-the withe loose, and sprang toward her. In a moment
-the rude hand of the red-man rested heavily
-upon her shoulder, and his grim look sent the blood
-tingling from her cheeks. Another withe was
-speedily passed around her arms, and then the two
-Narragansetts seated themselves to make a hurdle
-to bear the pale faced maiden away. As they were
-busily engaged Grace heard a whisper behind her.
-She turned her head half round—Foster, by great
-exertions, had got loose from his withe, and was
-crawling slowly toward his musketoon.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The Narragansetts, suspecting nothing, were sitting
-behind a little clump of sassafras, and nothing
-but their brawny chests could be seen through a
-small bend in the trunks of the trees that composed
-the thicket.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Stealthily crept the experienced Foster to the tree
-where his musketoon rested. Not a crackling twig,
-nor rustling leaf, gave the slightest evidence of his
-movements. The Indians spoke in their own wild
-gutterals of the beauty of the pale-faced squaw, and
-chuckled with delight at the speedy prospect of
-roasting the young long knife by Philip’s council fire.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The musketoon was just as he had left it: not a
-grain of powder had left the pan,—the match burned
-brightly at the butt, and every thing seemed to be
-as effective as possible. Foster seized it and motioned
-to Grace to stoop her head, so as to give
-him a chance to bring the red men in a range
-through the opening in the thicket.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Grace bent her head to the ground, while her
-heart beat with fearful anticipation. The young
-pilgrim aimed his deadly weapon, as a fine opportunity
-presented itself. The two savages were sitting
-cross-legged, side by side, and their brawny breasts
-were seen, one bending slightly before the other.
-Foster aimed so as to give each a fair proportion
-of slugs—for he had a charge for a panther in his
-barrel—and fired. A loud report rang down the
-aisles of the forest, and rattled in echoes over the
-settlement, while the two Indians bounded up with
-a fearful yell, and fell dead upon the half-made
-hurdle. Foster sprang to the side of Grace, and
-casting loose the withe that confined her swollen
-arms, bore her over the bodies of the Narragansetts,
-whose horrid scowls never were forgotten by the
-affrighted maid.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A war-whoop now rang in the usual pathway to
-the settlement, and Foster saw that he must take a
-shorter cut or die. Grace had fainted, and every
-thing depended upon his manliness and strength.
-He therefore approached the brink of the precipice.
-A wild grape vine, that had grown there since the
-morning of time, for aught he knew, extended far
-up the perpendicular rock, from a crag below. He
-bound the fair girl to his breast with his neckcloth
-and shot-belt, and grasping the stem of the vine,
-descended. As he slipped down, the vine began to
-yield, and just as his foot touched the narrow crag,
-the whole vine, with a mass of loose earth and
-stones, gave way with a tremendous crash, and
-hung, from the crevice where he stood, like a feather
-quivering beneath his feet. Foster was for a
-moment dizzy, but he cast his eyes upward, and
-beheld the eyes of an Indian glaring upon him from
-the top of the rock. He was nerved in a moment:
-and seeing a ledge a foot and a half broad, beyond
-a fissure, about eight feet over, and very deep, he
-determined to spring for it. Grace Gilman, however,
-was a dead weight to the young man, and he
-feared the result. The ledge seemed to run at an
-angle of forty-five degrees along the front of the
-rock, to a side hill, formed by fallen rocks and
-earth. A wild vine hung down over the fissure,
-covered with tempting fruit. He reached out his
-hand and grasped the main stem as it waved in the
-breeze,—it was strong, and its roots seemed firmly
-imbedded in a crevice above him. Commending
-himself to that Creator whose tireless eye takes in
-at a glance his creatures, he made his leap! The
-damp wind from the fissure rushed by his ears; the
-vine cracked and rustled above him; rich clusters
-of luscious fruit came tumbling upon his head; and
-the birds of night came shrieking out from their
-dark shelters in the fissure as he swung past. Foster,
-however, did not waver, his foot struck the
-ledge and he leaned forward; the vine flew back
-like a pendulum as he let it go, and he slid down
-the smooth ridge of the ledge in safety. In a short
-time he brought up against a heap of earth that
-had fallen from the mountain top, and springing up,
-bounded like the chamois hunter from crag to crag,
-until he stood upon the broad bottom, without a
-bruise or a scratch upon himself or his fair charge.
-In twenty minutes the young pilgrim entered the
-settlement by the forest way, with the almost lifeless
-form of his beloved buckled to his breast, while
-savage yells of disappointment came down from the
-summit of the East Rock, and caused the young
-mothers of Quinapiack to press their startled babes
-closer to their trembling hearts.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>None had dared to follow the adventurous pilgrim’s
-course down the mountain’s perpendicular
-side: and the ledges that jut out like faint shadows
-from the bluff, are called Foster’s Stepping Stone
-by those who know the incident to this day.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The report of the musketoon was heard in the
-settlement. The soldiers of the colony stood to
-their arms, and when Foster had made his report,
-several strong parties went out upon a scout; but
-it was of no use; drops of blood only were discovered
-sprinkled upon the sassafras-leaves, and a
-heavy trail leading toward the Long River. The
-fighting men of Quinapiack, after a weary march,
-gave up the pursuit of the Narragansetts, and returned
-leisurely to the settlement. Night now settled
-like a raven upon the land—the drums beat
-to prayers—one by one the lights went out in the
-cottages of the pilgrims; and as the watch-fire sent
-forth its ruddy blaze from the common—now the college
-green—the colony slumbered in sweet forgetfulness,
-or wandered in visions amid the scenes of their
-childhood by the broad Shannon or the silver Ayr.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Who can tell the strange thoughts that agitated
-the sleepers’ souls? The old men, had they no
-pleasures of memory? The young men and the
-maidens, had they no dreams of joy—no bright
-pictures of trysting trees and lovely glens where
-the white lady moved in her noiseless path, or the
-fairies danced on the moonlight sward? Had the
-politician no dream of departed power? No sigh
-for his rapid fall? Had the soldier no dream of
-glory—no sound of stirring bugles melting upon
-his ear? Had the minister of God no dream of
-greatness—when before the kings and princes of
-the world he stood? and like Nathan of old said
-in Christ-like majesty to the offending monarch—</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-top:0.5em;'>“Thou art the man.”</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk107'/>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>It</span> was sunrise at Quinapiack, and the seven pillars
-were no longer seven sleepers. Eugene Foster
-stood beside Grace Gilman, while the old elder
-wrestled valiantly in prayer. When the morning
-service was ended, and a substantial breakfast had
-been stowed away with no infant’s hand, Foster
-imprinted a kiss upon the cheek of the bashful
-puritan.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Farewell, Grace,” said he, “we are ready to
-sail. In a few months more the smoke shall curl
-from my cottage chimney, and the good people of
-the colony shall wait at the council board for good
-man Foster.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Eugene,” said Grace, with eyes suffused with
-tears, “your time will pass pleasantly in England;
-but, oh! how long will the period of your absence
-seem in this lone outpost of civilization. Do not,
-then, tarry in the land of your fathers beyond the
-time necessary for accomplishing your business.
-There are many Graces in England, but there are
-but few Fosters here.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Grace,” said Foster blushing, “there is no
-Grace in England like the Grace of Quinapiack,
-and he who would leave the blooming rose of the
-wilderness, for the sick lily of the hot-house,
-deserves not to enjoy the fresh blessings of Providence.
-The wind that blows back to the western
-continent shall fill my sails, and I will claim my
-bride.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The old puritan now gave the young man his
-blessing. Foster drew from his cloak fold this silver
-tankard,—marked, as you now see it,—[so said my
-grandmother, as she held the antique vessel up to
-the light,] and presented it to Grace as an earnest
-of his love. The elder, after seeing that it was pure
-silver, exclaimed against the gew-gaws, and the
-drinking measures of a carnal world, and left the
-room. Two hearty kisses were now heard, even
-by the domestics in the Gilman family. The elder
-entered the breakfast room in haste; Eugene bounded
-out of the door—Grace glided like a fairy up stairs,
-and the old tankard rested upon the table.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>After placing on board of the return ship the
-massive plate, and other valuables of the discontented
-merchants, those whose hearts failed them, embarked
-amid the tears and prayers of Davenport and his
-faithful associates. The sails were spread to the
-breeze—the old ship bowed her head to the foam,
-and dashed out of the harbor in gallant style.
-Grace watched the vessel as she departed, and when
-the evening came, she wept in her silent chamber,
-for her heart was sad.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was a sad day for the remaining colonists
-when the ship dipped her topsails in the southern
-waves. A feeling of loneliness, such as the traveller
-feels when lost in a boundless wood, seized upon
-them, and the staunchest wept for their native land,
-and the air was damp with tears. The next morning
-the settlement became more cheerful, for what
-can raise the drooping soul like the still glories of a
-New England autumn morning? The ship would,
-in all probability, return in a few months with necessary
-stores for the colonists, and then, should the
-company grow weary of the new country, they could
-return to their native land with their wives, and recount
-to kind friends the perils of an ocean voyage,
-and of a solitary home in a savage land.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk108'/>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>Six</span> long and melancholy months rolled away,
-and no tidings of the pilgrims’ ship had reached the
-ears of the anxious settlers of Quinapiack. A vessel
-had arrived at Plymouth after a short passage, but
-nothing had been heard of Lamberton’s bark when
-she sailed. A terrible mystery hung over the ill-filled
-and crazy ship. Autumn now came in its
-beauty, and still no tidings came to cheer the sinking
-soul, and gladden the heavy heart. Grace
-Gilman now began to pine, like the fair flower,
-whose root the worm of destruction has struck, and
-whose brightness slowly fades away. At length the
-good people of Quinapiack could stand this state of
-suspense no longer, and the Rev. Mr. Davenport,
-and his little flock, besought the Lord with sighs
-and tears, and heartfelt prayers to shew them the
-fate of their friends by a visible sign from heaven.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Four successive Sabbaths the worthy minister
-strove for a revelation of the mystery, and on the
-afternoon of the last day, when silence brooded over
-the settlement; when even the barn-fowl grew
-silent upon his roost, and the well-trained dog lay
-watching by the old family clock, for sunset, and
-the hour of play, the cry came up from the water
-side,—“A sail! a sail!”—and the drums beat with
-a double note, and the gravest leaped for joy. The
-cry operated like an electric shock upon the whole
-mass of the people. The old and the young, the
-sick and the well, went out upon the shore to view
-the approaching stranger, and the seaman stood by
-the landing place ready to make her fast. Grace
-Gilman was in the centre of the throng, and the
-worthy minister, Davenport, waited silently by her
-side.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There is no moment so full of interest to us as
-that when a vessel from our native land approaches
-us upon a distant shore. How many anxious hearts
-are waiting to rise or fall, as good or bad tidings
-salute their ears. How many watch the faces that
-throng the deck, and turn from countenance to
-countenance with eager look, until their eyes rest
-upon some familiar face, and their anxiety is satisfied.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There are cold hearts also in such a crowd,—worldly
-men, who come to gather news. What
-care they for affection’s warm greeting, or the throb
-of sympathy? What know they of a sister’s love;
-aye! or of that deeper love which only exists in the
-breast of woman! which carried her to Pilate’s
-hall, to Calvary’s scene of blood, and to Joseph’s
-tomb? The price of cotton, of tobacco, bread-stuffs,
-rise of fancy stocks, election of a favorite
-candidate, or the death of a rich relative, are sweeter
-than angel whispers to their ears, and <span class='it'>a rise of two
-pence on corn</span> is enough to fill a whole exchange
-with raptures.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There were but few such worldlings on the landing
-place of Quinapiack on the Sabbath eve when
-the gallant vessel of the pilgrims approached the
-shore. Silence reigned upon the landing, and a
-dreadful stillness hung over the approaching ship.
-Gallantly she entered the harbor, and the boldest on
-shore trembled for her temerity in carrying such a
-press of canvass. Not a sail had she handed—not
-a man was aloft. Her course varied not—neither
-did the water ripple before her bows. All was now
-anxiety. A hail went forth from the land,—a
-moment of breathless curiosity passed, but no answer
-came. Another hail was treated with the same
-neglect. At length Mr. Davenport hailed the
-stranger. As the words slowly burst from the
-brazen trumpet, a bright ray of sunlight gleamed
-full upon the vessel. Her top-masts now faded into
-air—then the sails and rigging down to her courses—her
-ensign next rolled away upon the breeze, and
-when the East Rock sent back the last echo of the
-trumpet, the pilgrims’ ship had vanished away. A
-similar ship, though of much smaller dimensions,
-now appeared upon a heavy cloud that hung over
-Long Island, and faded away with the brightness of
-the day.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is the promised sign,” said Mr. Davenport.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Our friends are lost at sea,” cried the multitude.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Eugene is drowned!” screamed Grace Gilman,
-and the crowd dispersed to weep alone.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As the throng moved away from the water side,
-a maniac girl who had been gathering wild flowers
-upon the East Rock, came running in from the
-forest way, chaunting the following words to a
-plaintive air:—</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>She leaves the port with swelling sails,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And gaudy streamer flaunting free,</p>
-<p class='line0'>She woos the gentle western gales,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And takes her pathway o’er the sea.</p>
-<p class='line0'>The vales go down where roses bloom—</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The hill tops follow green and fair;</p>
-<p class='line0'>The lofty beacon sinks in gloom,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And purpled mountains hang in air.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Along she speeds with snowy wings,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Around her breaks the foaming deep;</p>
-<p class='line0'>The tempest thro’ her rigging sings,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And weary eyes their vigils keep.</p>
-<p class='line0'>Loud thunders rattle on the ear;</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Saint Elmo’s fire her yard-arms grace,</p>
-<p class='line0'>The boldest bosom sinks in fear,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;While death stands watching face to face.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Months roll, and anxious friends await</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Some tidings of the home-bound bark,</p>
-<p class='line0'>But ah! above her hapless fate</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Mysterious shadows slumber dark.</p>
-<p class='line0'>No tidings come from Albion’s shore</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;To wild New England’s rocky lee;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Hope sickens, dies, and all is o’er,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The pilgrim’s bark is lost at sea.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>But see around yon woody isle</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;A gallant vessel sweeps in pride,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Her presence bids the mourners smile,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And hope reviving marks the tide.</p>
-<p class='line0'>But ah! her topsails fade away,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Her gaudy streamer floats no more,</p>
-<p class='line0'>A shadow flits across the bay,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The pilgrim’s dying hope is o’er.</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<hr class='tbk109'/>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>Upon</span> a couch, in a little parlor in Quinapiack,
-surrounded by a number of the worthy settlers of
-both sexes, rested, at the close of that Sabbath day,
-Grace Gilman. Her cup of sorrow was full, and
-she prayed for the approach of the angel of death.
-Beside her stood the silver tankard, and her dim
-eye endeavored in vain to read the inscription.
-“Aunt Tabitha,” said the sufferer to my great great
-grandmother, “read the inscription for me.” The
-good aunt bent over the vessel, and read aloud:—</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<div class='stanza-inner'>
-<p class='line0'>“<span class='sc'>Sir</span> JOHN FOSTER, <span style='font-size:smaller'>OF</span> LONDON,</p>
-<p class='line0' style='text-align:center;'><span class='it'>MASTER OF THE ROLLS</span>.”</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='noindent'>And underneath, in small capitals, she read:—</p>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“<span class='sc'>Eugene Foster, to Grace Gilman, as an earnest of his love.</span></p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>“<span class='it'>An empty cup to hold our tears,</span></p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>A flowing bowl to drown our fears,</span></p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>In life or death, this cup shall be</span></p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>A poor remembrancer of me.</span>”</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Brother,” said Mr. Davenport, as he slowly
-entered the room, “why weepest thou? Daughter
-of the church, why sittest thou in sadness? Children
-of God, why shed these useless tears? Arise, and
-let us bless the Lord, for he is good, and his mercy
-endureth forever.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The broken-hearted girl folded her hands. The
-aged father bent over her pillow. The friends
-leaned upon their staves, and the minister poured
-forth his soul in unstudied prayer.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A sweet strain of thrilling music now broke upon
-the ear,—a sound of gentle voices echoed in the
-hall,—a rustling of wings was heard overhead,—a
-faint whisper of “Eugene! Eugene! I—come—”
-died away on the sufferer’s pillow: and when the
-prayer was ended, the little company found themselves
-alone, watchers with the dead.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Grace Gilman had breathed her last, and the
-betrothed of the pilgrim joined her lover in heaven.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk110'/>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>The</span> poor girl was buried agreeably to her wishes,
-upon the mountain side. The tankard became the
-property of her aunt Tabitha, and finally came to a
-rest in my grandmother’s cupboard. And now
-when the Sabbath evening commences, the rustic
-swain, as he passes the foot of the mountain, fancies
-that he sees a white figure beckoning to him from
-the cliff, and hears, amid the sighing of the woods,
-a low, but fearfully distinct whisper, saying—“Eugene!
-Eugene! I come!” And oft since, through
-the dim twilight of a summer’s Sabbath evening,
-has been seen the spirit-ship of the long-lost Pilgrims,
-ploughing her unruffled course through the
-calm waters of Quinapiack, and, when hailed, instantly
-disappearing.</p>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span style='font-size:smaller'>Washington, January, 1841.</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr class='tbk111'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='resc'></a>THE RESCUED KNIGHT.</h1></div>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;font-weight:bold;'>A TALE OF THE CRUSADES.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>It</span> was starlight on Galilee. The placid lake
-lay at the feet, slumbering as calmly as an infant,
-with the wooded shores, and the tall cliffs around,
-reflected darkly in its surface. Scarcely a breath
-disturbed the quiet air. Occasionally a ripple
-would break on the shore with a low, measured
-harmony, and anon a tiny wave would glisten in
-the starlight, as a slight breeze ruffled the surface
-of the lake. The song of the fisherman was hushed;
-the voice of the vine-dresser had ceased on the
-shore; the cry of the eagle had died away amongst
-his far-off hills, and the silence of midnight, deep,
-hushed, and awe-inspiring, hung over Galilee.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A thousand years before, and what scenes had
-that sea beheld! There, had lived Peter and his
-brethren; there, had our Saviour taught; upon those
-shores had his miracles been wrought; and on the
-broad bosom of Gennesserat he had walked a God.
-What holy memories were linked in with that little
-sea! How calm and changeless seemed its quiet
-depths! A thousand years had passed since then,
-and the apostles and their children had mouldered
-into dust, yet the stars still looked down on that
-placid lake unchanged, shining the same as they had
-done for fifty centuries before.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>On the shore of the lake, embowered in the
-thick woods, stood a large old, rambling fortified
-building, bearing traces of the Roman architecture,
-upon which had been engrafted a Saracenic style.
-It enclosed a garden, upon one side of which was
-a range of low buildings, dark, massy, frowning, and
-partly in ruins, but which bore every evidence of
-being still almost impregnable.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Within this range of buildings, in a dark and
-noisome cell, reclined, upon a scanty bed of straw,
-a Christian knight. His face was pale and attenuated,
-but it had lost, amid all his sufferings, none of
-his high resolve. It was now the seventh day since
-he had lain in that loathsome dungeon, and the
-morrow’s sun was to see him die a martyr, for not
-abjuring his religion.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes!” he muttered to himself, “the agony will
-soon be over: it is but an hour at the most, and
-shall a Christian knight fear fire or torture? No:
-come when it may, death should ever be welcome
-to a de Guiscan; and how much more welcome
-when it brings the glories of martyrdom. But yet
-it is a fearful trial. I could fall in battle, for there
-a thousand eyes behold us, but to die alone, unheard
-of, with only foes around, and where none shall
-ever hear of my fate.—Oh! that indeed is bitter.
-Yet I fear not even it. Thank God!” he said,
-fervently kissing a cross he drew from his bosom,
-“there is a strength given to us in the hour of need,
-which bears us up against every danger.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The speaker suddenly started, ceased, and looked
-around. The bolt of his door was being withdrawn
-from the outside. Could it be that his jailor was
-about to visit him at this hour? Slowly the massy
-door swung on its hinges, and a burst of light,
-streaming into the cell, for a moment dazzled the
-eyes of the captive; but when he grew accustomed
-gradually to the glare, he started, with even greater
-surprise, to behold, not his jailor, but a maiden,
-richly attired in the Oriental dress. For an instant
-the young knight looked amazed, as if he beheld a
-being of another world.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Christian!” said the apparition, using the mongrel
-tongue, then adopted by both Saracens and
-Franks in their communications, but speaking in a
-low, sweet voice, which, melting from the maiden’s
-tongue, made every word seem musical, “do you
-die to-morrow?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“If God wills it,” said the young knight firmly,
-“but what mean you?—why are you here?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I am here to save you,” said the maiden, fixing
-her eye upon his, “that is,” and she paused and
-blushed in embarrassment, “if you will comply with
-my conditions.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The young knight, who had eagerly started forward
-at the first part of her sentence, now recoiled,
-and with a firm voice, though one gentler than he
-would have used to aught less fair, exclaimed,—</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And have you too been sent to tempt me? But
-go to those from whom you came, and tell them
-that Brian de Guiscan, will meet the stake rejoicing,
-sooner than purchase life by abjuring his God—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You wrong—you wrong me,” hastily interposed
-the maiden, “I come not to ask you to
-desert your God, but to tell you that I also would
-be a Christian. Listen,—for my story must be
-short—my nurse was a Christian captive, and from
-her I learned to love your Saviour. I have long
-sought to learn more of your religion, and I am
-come now,” and again she blushed in embarrassment,
-“to free you, sir knight, if you will conduct
-me to your own land. I am the daughter of the
-Emir; I have stolen his signet, and thus obtained
-the keys to your cell—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is enough, fair princess, my more than deliverer,”
-said the knight eagerly, “gladly will I sell
-my life in your defence.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hist!” said the maiden in a whisper, placing
-her finger on her lips, “if we speak above a murmur
-we shall, perhaps be overhead—follow me,”
-and turning around, she passed swiftly through the
-door, and extinguishing her light, looked around to
-see if she was followed, and flitted into a dark alley
-of overhanging trees.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Who can describe the emotions of de Guiscan’s
-bosom, as he traversed the garden after his guide?
-His release had been so sudden that it seemed like
-a dream, and he placed his hand upon his brow as
-if to assure himself of the reality of the passing
-scene. Nor were the sensations, which he experienced,
-less mixed than tumultuous. But over
-every other feeling, one was predominant—the determination
-to perish rather than to be re-taken, or,
-least of all, to suffer a hair of his fair rescuer’s head
-to be injured.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Their noiseless, but rapid flight toward the lower
-end of the garden, and thence through a postern
-gate into the fields beyond, was soon completed,—and
-it was only when, arriving at a clump of palms,
-beneath which three steeds, and a male attendant,
-could be seen, as if awaiting them, that the maid
-broke silence.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Mount, Christian,” she said in her sweet voice,
-now trembling with excitement; and then turning
-toward her father’s towers, she looked mournfully
-at them a moment, and de Guiscan saw, by the starlight,
-that she wept.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In a few minutes, however, they were mounted;
-and so complete had been the maiden’s preparations,
-that de Guiscan’s own horse, lance, and buckler,
-had been provided for him. But on whom would
-suspicion be less likely to rest than on the Emir’s
-daughter?</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They galloped long and swiftly through that
-night, and just as morning began to break across
-the hills of Syria, they turned aside into a thick
-grove, and, dismounting, sought rest. The attendant
-tied the foaming steeds a short distance apart, and,
-for the first time, the princess and de Guiscan were
-alone since his escape.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Fair princess,” said the young knight, “how
-shall I ever show my gratitude to you? By what
-name may I call my deliverer?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Zelma!” said the maiden modestly, dropping
-her eyes before those of the knight, and speaking
-with a certain tremulousness of tone that was more
-eloquent than words.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Zelma!” said de Guiscan astonished, “and do
-I indeed behold the far-famed daughter of the Emir,
-Abel-dek, she for whom the Saracenic chivalry have
-broken so many lances? Thou art indeed beautiful,
-far more beautiful than I had dreamed. The
-blessed saints may be praised, that thou wishest
-to be a Christian.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Such is my wish,” said the maiden meekly, as
-if desiring to change the conversation from her late
-act, “and I pray that, as soon as may be, we may
-reach some Christian outpost, where you will place
-me in charge of one of those holy women, of whom
-I have heard my nurse so often speak; and after
-that, the only favor I ask of you, sir knight, is, that,
-should you ever meet my father, Abel-dek, in battle,
-you will avoid him, for his daughter’s sake.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is granted, sweet Zelma,” said de Guiscan
-enthusiastically. But the attendant now returning,
-their conversation was closed for the present.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Why was it that de Guiscan, instead of retiring
-to rest, when, having formed a rude couch for
-Zelma, he persuaded her to take a short repose,
-kept guard for hours, busy with his own thoughts,
-but without uttering a word? Was it solely gratitude
-to the fair Saracen which forbid him to trust
-her safety even for a moment to her attendant, or
-had another and deeper feeling, arising partly from
-gratitude, and partly from a tenderer source, taken
-possession of his soul? Certain it is, that though
-the young knight had gazed on the bright eyes of his
-own Gascony, and seen even the fair-haired maidens
-of England, yet never had he experienced toward
-any of them, such feelings as that which he now
-experienced toward Zelma. Hour after hour passed
-away, and still he stood watching over her slumbers.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was late in the afternoon when the little party
-again set forth on their flight. De Guiscan, when
-the road permitted it, was ever at the bridle reins of
-Zelma, and though his keen eye often swept anxiously
-around the landscape, their conversation soon
-grew deeply interesting, if we may judge by the
-stolen glances and heightened color of Zelma, and
-the eager attention with which the young knight
-listened to the few words which dropped from her
-lips. How had their demeanor changed since the
-night before! Then the princess was all energy,
-now she was the startled girl again. Then de
-Guiscan followed powerless as she led, now he it
-was upon whom the little party leaned for guidance.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Pursuit, the saints be praised, must long since
-have ceased,” said de Guiscan, “for yonder is the
-last hill hiding us from the Christian camp. When
-we gain that we shall be able to see, though still
-distant, the tents of my race.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The eyes of the maiden sparkled, and giving the
-reins to their steeds, they soon gained the ascent.
-The scene that burst upon them was so grand and
-imposing that, involuntarily, for a moment, they
-drew in and paused.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Before them stretched out an extensive plain,
-bounded on three sides by chains of hills, while on
-the fourth, and western border, glistened far away
-the waters of the Mediterranean. Rich fields of
-waving green; sparkling rivers, now lost and now
-emerging to sight; rolling uplands, crowned with
-cedar forests; and, dimly seen in the distance, a
-long line of glittering light, reflected from the armor
-of the Crusaders, and telling where lay the Christian
-camp, opened out before the eyes of the fugitives.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The camp—the camp,” said de Guiscan joyously,
-pointing to the far-off line of tents.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The maiden turned her eyes to behold the glittering
-sight, gazed at it a moment in silence, and then
-casting a look backward, in the direction of her
-father’s house, she heaved a deep sigh, and said
-calmly:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Had we not better proceed?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“By my halidome, yes!” said de Guiscan with
-sudden energy, “see yon troop of Saracens pricking
-up the mountain side in our rear—here—in a line
-with that cedar—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I see them,” said Zelma, breathlessly, “they
-are part of the Emir’s guard—they are in pursuit.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“On—on,” was the only answer of the young
-knight, as he struck the Arabian on which the
-maiden rode, and plunged his spurs deep into his
-horse’s flanks.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They had not been in motion long before they
-beheld their pursuers, approaching, better mounted
-than themselves, sweeping over the brow of the hill
-above, in a close, dense column.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Swifter—swifter, dear lady,” said the knight,
-looking back.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh! we are beset,” suddenly said Zelma, in a
-voice trembling with agitation, “see—a troop of
-our pursuers are winding up the path below.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The knight’s eyes following the guidance of the
-maiden’s trembling finger, beheld, a mile beneath
-him, a large company of infidel horse, closing up
-the egress of the fugitives. He paused an instant,
-almost bewildered. But not a second was to be
-lost.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where does this horse path lead?” he said,
-turning to the attendant, and pointing to a narrow
-way, winding amongst precipitous rocks, toward
-the left.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It joins the greater road, some distance below.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then, in God’s name let us enter it, trusting to
-heaven for escape. If it comes to the worst I can
-defend it against all comers, provided there is any
-part of it too narrow for two to attack me abreast.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“There are many such spots!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then the saints be praised. In, in, dear lady—in
-all.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Their pace was now equally rapid until they
-reached a narrow gorge, overhung by high and inaccessible
-rocks, and opening behind into a wide
-highway, bordering upon a plain below.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Here will I take my position, and await their
-attack,” said de Guiscan. “How far is the nearest
-Christian outpost?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A league beneath.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hie, then, away to it, and tell them de Guiscan
-escaped from a Saracen prison, awaits succor in this
-pass. We cannot all go, else we may be overtaken.
-Besides, you may be intercepted below. If you live
-to reach the crusaders, I will make you rich for
-life. By sundown I may expect succor if you succeed.
-Till then I can hold this post.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The man made an Oriental obeisance, and vanished,
-like lightning, down the acclivity.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Here they come,” said de Guiscan, “they have
-found us out, and are swooping like falcons from
-the heights.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The maiden looked, and beheld the troop of
-Saracens defiling down the mountain, one by one;
-the narrowness of the path forbidding even two to
-ride abreast.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Allah il Allah!” shouted the foremost infidel,
-perceiving the knight, and galloping furiously upon
-him as he spoke.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Not a word was returned from the crusader. He
-stood like a statue of steel, awaiting the onset of
-the fiery Saracen. As the infidel swept on his
-career, he gradually increased his distance from
-his friends, until a considerable space intervened
-between him and the troop of Moslems. This was
-the moment for which the young knight had so anxiously
-waited.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Allah il Allah!” shouted the infidel, waving his
-scimitar around his head, as he came sweeping
-down upon the motionless crusader.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A de Guiscan! a de Guiscan!” thundered the
-knight, raising the war-cry of his fathers, as he
-couched his lance, and shot like an arrow from the
-pass. There was a tramp—a wild shout—a fleeting
-as of a meteor—and then the two combatants
-met in mid-career. Too late the infidel beheld his
-error, and sought to evade that earthquake charge.
-It was in vain. Horse and rider went down before
-the lance of the crusader, and the last life-blood of
-the Saracen had ebbed forth before de Guiscan had
-even regained his position.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The savage cry of revenge which the companions
-of the fallen man set up, would have apalled any
-heart but that of de Guiscan. But he knew no fear.
-The presence of Zelma, too, gave new strength to
-his arm, and new energy to his soul. For more
-than an hour, aided by his strong position, he kept
-the whole Saracen force at bay. Every man who
-attacked him went down before his lance, or fell
-beneath his sword. At length, as sunset approached,
-the Saracens hemming him in closer and closer,
-succeeded in driving him back behind a projecting
-rock, which, though it protected his person, prevented
-him from doing any injury to his assailants,
-who, meanwhile, were endeavoring, by climbing up
-the face of the rock, to attack him from overhead.
-He found that it was impossible to hold out many
-moments longer. He turned to look at the maiden:
-she was firm and resolved, though pale.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We will die together,” said she, drawing closer
-to his side, as if there was greater protection there
-than where she had been standing.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes! dear Zelma, for that is, I fear me, all that
-is left for us to do.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hark!” suddenly said the maiden, “hear you
-not the clattering of horses’ feet—here—in the
-rear?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Can it be your attendant returned?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes—yes! it is—praised be the Christian’s
-God.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I vow a gold candlestick to the Holy shrine at
-Jerusalem!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>On, like a whirlwind, came the host of the Christians,
-over the plain beneath, and through the broad
-highway, until, perceiving their rescued countryman
-still alive with his charge, they raised such a cry of
-rejoicing that it struck terror into every Moslem’s
-heart. In a few moments all danger to the fugitives
-was over.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The infidels, now in turn retreating, were pursued
-and cut off almost to a man, by a detachment of
-the Christian force; while another party of the succorers
-bore the rescued fugitives in triumph to the
-Christian outpost.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In the parlor of the —— convent, at Jerusalem,
-a few months later De Guiscan awaited the
-appearance of Zelma. Since the day when they had
-together reached the Christian outpost, he had not
-beheld that beautiful Saracen, for she had seized the
-first opportunity to place herself under the instruction
-of the holy abbess of the —— convent at
-Jerusalem. During that separation, however, de
-Guiscan had thought long and ardently of his rescuer.
-In the bivouac; amid the noise of a camp;
-in the whirl of battle; surrounded by the beautiful
-and gay; wherever, in short, he went, the young
-knight had carried with him the memory of the fair
-being who, at the peril of her life, had saved him
-from the stake. Their hurried conversation in the
-palm grove was constantly recurring to his memory.
-Oh! how he wished that he might once more behold
-Zelma, if only to thank her anew for his life.
-But constantly occupied in the field, he had not
-been at leisure to visit Jerusalem, until a summons
-come from France, informing him of his father’s
-death, and the necessity that he should immediately
-proceed homeward, to preserve the succession to
-his barony. He determined to see Zelma once
-more, if only to bid her farewell forever.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As he was swayed thus by his emotions, he heard
-a light step, and looking up, he beheld the Saracen
-princess.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Zelma!” he ejaculated.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“De Guiscan!” said the maiden, eagerly advancing,
-but checking herself as instantly, she stood, in
-beautiful embarrassment, before the knight.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Both felt the difficulty of their relative positions,
-and both would have spoken, but could not. At
-length de Guiscan said,—</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Lady! I have come to thank you again for my
-life, before I leave this land forever.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Leave Jerusalem—Palestine forever!” ejaculated
-Zelma.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A bright, but long-forbidden hope lighted up the
-countenance of the young knight, and perceiving
-the renewed embarrassment with which the speaker
-paused, he said:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>Dear</span> lady! I am going to my own sunny land
-far away; but I cannot depart without telling you
-how deeply I love you, and that I have thought of
-you, only of your sex, ever since we parted. Oh!
-if not presumptious, might I hope?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The still more embarrassed maiden blushed, but
-she did not withdraw the hand which the young
-knight had grasped. He raised and kissed it. The
-next moment the trembling, but glad girl, fell weeping
-on his bosom. She, too, had thought only of
-him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The proudest family in the south of France, to
-this day, trace their origin to the union of Zelma
-and de Guiscan. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;* &nbsp;&nbsp;* &nbsp;&nbsp;*</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk112'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='chil'></a>LITTLE CHILDREN.</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. 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'><span class='sc'>I love</span> those little happy things, they seem to me but given,</p>
-<p class='line0'>To mirror on this lower earth, the far-off smiling heaven,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Their blue eyes shining ever bright like violets steep’d in dew.</p>
-<p class='line0'>Their looks of angel innocence—who’d not believe them true?</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>The echo of the merry laugh, so full of heartfelt glee,</p>
-<p class='line0'>The very revelry of joy, untameable, and free;</p>
-<p class='line0'>The little feet that almost seem to scorn our mother earth,</p>
-<p class='line0'>But ever, ever lisping on in frolic, and in mirth.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Oh! how we look on them, and think of all our childhood’s hours,</p>
-<p class='line0'>When we were sunny-hearted too, and wander’d among flowers,</p>
-<p class='line0'>When like to theirs, our floating locks, were left to woo the breeze,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Oh! Time, in all thy calendar, thou’st no such times as these.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>I do forget how many years have sadly passed me by,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Since my young sun of rising morn, shone gayly in the sky;</p>
-<p class='line0'>When I behold these happy things in all their joyous play,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Pouring the sunshine of their hearts, upon my cloudy way.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Would I could watch their gentle growth, and guard them from the blight,</p>
-<p class='line0'>That ever tracks the steps of Time, like darken’d clouds of night,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Would I could see their laughing eyes still innocently wear</p>
-<p class='line0'>The looks of guileless purity, unmixed with woe, or care.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Dear little children, ye have been to me, a source of joy,</p>
-<p class='line0'>The sweet drop in the bitter cup of life’s too sad alloy,</p>
-<p class='line0'>In ye, mine early days return, the rainbow days of youth,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Of single-hearted blessedness, of tenderness, and truth.</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span style='font-size:smaller'>Philadelphia, January, 1841.</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr class='tbk113'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='silv'></a>THE SILVER DIGGER.</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. TOPHAM EVANS.</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>“Ha!</span> ha! ha!” shouted Piet Albrecht, “and so
-old Chriss Mienckel is going to be married at last,
-and to pretty Barbara Mullerhorn, the violet of the
-forest! Your gold and silver are the best suitors
-after all! Give me a purse of yellow pieces before
-all the rifles of the mountain. What sayest thou,
-comrade,” continued he, clapping upon the back a
-young man, who sat next to him, “dost thou not
-think that old Mullerhorn, the gold-lover, would
-have fancied thee much better, if thou hadst carried
-more metal in thy pouch than upon thy shoulder?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I pray thee, Piet,” responded the young man,
-“keep thy scurvy jests to thyself. My soul is far
-too heavy for mirth.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Holy Saint Nicholas!” said Piet, “he thinks
-of little Barbara! Well, courage, comrade, and
-drink somewhat of this flask. Right Schiedam,
-and full old, I warrant thee. What, not a drop?
-Well, here’s to thee, then.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Aye,” said a tall, dark visaged man, attired in
-a hunter’s garb, “aye! these love sick spirits are
-hardly worth the trouble of enlivening. Once was
-Adolf the gayest hunter in the hills; but of late, his
-courage is as dull as a hare’s, and all for a green
-girl, whose old schelm of a father loves his own
-broad pieces too well, to bestow her upon a ranger
-of the free woods.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Peace, Franz Rudenfranck,” said the youth;
-“I will hear such words, not even from thee. If
-old Mullerhorn continues to refuse me, I will leave
-these, my native mountains, and wander in some
-far distant land, hopeless and broken hearted.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Pshaw,” rejoined Rudenfranck, “thou art far
-too young for despair as yet. Throw thine ill-humor
-to the fiend, whence it came. There are other
-lasses as fair as Barbara Mullerhorn, and, by my
-faith, not so difficult to obtain. Therefore, fill
-comrades, let us pass a health to the recovery of
-Adolf’s heart, and a more favorable issue to his
-passion.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And the cup went gaily round, amid the shouts
-of the revellers.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Adolf Westerbok had been the gayest huntsman
-of the F——g district, and the truest and merriest
-lad in the mountain, until an accidental meeting
-with Barbara Mullerhorn at a dance, had entirely
-changed the current of his feelings. It is an old
-story, and a much hackneyed one, that of love.
-Let us spare the description. Suffice it to say that
-Adolf and Barbara met often, and that a mutual
-affection subsisted between them.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Adolf proposed himself to old Mullerhorn, and
-demanded Barbara in marriage. But old Philip
-Mullerhorn, a rude, churlish, and avaricious farmer,
-scornfully rejected the proffer of Adolf, and forbade
-him any farther interview with Barbara, alleging,
-as the grounds of his disinclination, the poverty of
-the hunter. Barbara was no less afflicted than
-Adolf. Still, meetings between them were contrived.
-At last, on the very evening, upon which
-the conversation, narrated above, took place, Barbara
-informed her distracted lover, that her father
-had announced to her his intention of bestowing
-her in marriage upon Chriss Mienckel, an elderly
-widower, whose share of this world’s goods was
-ample enough to attract the covetous regards of
-old Philip Mullerhorn.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Burning with rage, and filled with tumultuous
-thoughts, Adolf quitted Barbara, after bestowing
-upon her a long embrace, and repaired to the inn
-of the hamlet, in hopes of finding Franz Rudenfranck,
-a huntsman, who had professed a singular
-attachment for him, and who had signalised this
-attachment by many personal proofs of friendship.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The news of old Mienckel’s success had reached
-the hamlet before him, and he had not been seated
-many minutes, before Piet Albrecht, the professed
-joker of the village, began to rally him upon the
-subject. Piet had already irritated Adolf in no
-small measure; but the lover had thus far concealed
-his feelings.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ha! ha!” exclaimed Piet, gaily, “to think
-that the old, shrivelled widower of threescore
-should outcharm the youth of twenty! If I had
-been Adolf Westerbok, I don’t think that Chriss
-would have carried matters so, and I should have
-worn the wedding ribbon in spite of his ducats.
-But there’s no accounting for tastes, eh? What
-say you, comrades?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The hunters laughed; and Adolf, annoyed at
-length beyond endurance, rejoined in somewhat of
-a surly tone; to which Piet answered more jestingly
-than before.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Silence, fool!” said Rudenfranck, now interfering,
-“thou hast neither wit nor manners, and I
-should but serve thee rightly, did I lay my ramrod
-soundly over thy shoulders.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Piet shrank back abashed, for there was that
-expression upon the brow of Rudenfranck that few
-cared to see, and fewer to withstand. The hunters
-were silent for a moment, but one of them, at last,
-answered Rudenfranck.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That would I fain see, Franz Rudenfranck.
-Keep thy ramrod for thy hound; for, by the holy
-apostles, if thou layest the weight of thy finger
-upon Piet, I will try whether my bullet or thy skin
-proves the harder, albeit some say no lead can
-harm thee.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Peace, Hans Veltenmayer,” rejoined Rudenfranck.
-“If thou wert wise, which any fool may
-plainly perceive thou art not, thou wouldest chain
-that unruly tongue within thine ugly mouth, or keep
-those threats for thy wife, who, if some say aright,
-would receive them so kindly, as to repay thee, not
-in words, but in heavier coin. Tush man, never
-lift thy rifle at me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He turned sharply upon the hunter, who had
-seized his rifle and was levelling it toward him;
-wrested it from his hand, and by a slight motion,
-cast him rudely upon the ground. Veltenmayer
-rose, and slunk among his laughing companions,
-muttering.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Come, Adolf,” said Rudenfranck, “I know
-what thou wouldst have. Leave we this merry
-company, and go thou with me to my hut.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>They left the inn, and plunged deep into the
-forest.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'><span class='sc'>Chapter II.</span></h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>The</span> F——g district, as it is called, where the
-scene of this legend is laid, is one of the highest
-points in the great range of the Alleghany mountains.
-High, broken peaks, capped with towering
-pines, rise upon every side in billowy confusion;
-while the loftier and more regular chains of mountains
-stretch far away in every direction, fading and
-sinking upon the eye, until from a rich, dark green,
-they seem to meet and unite with the azure of the
-sky. Rough, rocky precipices; a red and stony
-soil, where the green mosses crawl and intertwist,
-in confused, yet beautiful arrangement, over the
-sward; thick low underwood, and forests almost
-impenetrable from their density; deep ravines, and
-craggy watercourses, some entirely destitute of
-water, and others, gushing precipitately along,
-flushed by unfailing springs, are the characteristics
-of this mountain district. The rude log cabins
-of the few inhabitants of this country, lie distant
-and scantily scattered through the almost pathless
-woods, and the entire appearance of the scenery
-has a sublime, though a savage and uncultivated
-air. The original settlers of this tract were Germans
-and Swiss, whose descendants, even at the
-present day, are almost the sole tenantry of these
-hills. Their nature seems congenial to the surrounding
-mountains; and the national exercise of
-the rifle, the merry dance and song, and those yet
-more venerable Dionysia, the apple-butter boilings,
-quilting parties, and log liftings, still constitute the
-favorite amusements of this primitive people. Even
-their religion, a strange compound of German mysticism,
-engrafted upon a plentiful stock of superstition,
-seems peculiarly appropriate to their mode of
-living, and their wild country. Nay, the very dress
-of a century back, still holds its fashion among
-these hills; and the peasant or hunter, loosely
-attired in his homespun suit of brown or blue
-adorned with fringe, or decked out with large,
-antique, silver or pewter buttons, occasionally
-garnished with the effigies of some popular saint;
-his large, broad brimmed wool hat, flapped over his
-face; his leather leggings; and dark, curly beard,
-presents a lively image of his fathers, the original
-settlers of the district. Add to this, the bright,
-keen wood-knife, sheathed in its leather case, and
-stuck in a broad girdle, with the powder horn and
-pouch; and the unfailing rifle strapped across the
-shoulder, and you have a perfect description of the
-general appearance of that people, who inhabit the
-F——g settlement, and the back-woods of Pennsylvania,
-at the present day.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Rudenfranck and his companion strode onward
-through the woods for some time without speaking.
-The elder hunter eyeing his friend keenly, at last
-broke the unsocial silence.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I need not ask of thee, Adolf, why thy brow
-is clouded, and thine eye so heavy. I, myself,
-although thou mayest smile at such confession
-from me, have suffered long, and deeply, from a
-like cause. But my tale shall not now interrupt
-thy grief, and I have often thought that the very
-leaves of the forest would find tongues to repeat a
-story, which might move nature herself. I would
-afford thee aid; not gall thy wounds by the recital
-of my own. Speak; is it not thus? Thou hast
-met Barbara Mullerhorn, even after her churlish
-father had forbidden thy suit. I know too well,
-Adolf, that the more we are opposed the brighter
-burns our love. But in pursuing thus thy suit,
-thou hast not done wisely. Yet I may still aid
-thee, and I will do so.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Alas, good Franz,” replied the youth, “this
-complaint is far beyond thy remedy. Gold alone
-can sway the determination of Philip Mullerhorn,
-and well dost thou know that Chriss Mienckel is
-the richest man in the settlement. How then
-canst thou, a poor hunter like myself, afford that
-aid, which wealth alone can give? No! no! I
- see nought save disappointment—save despair!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thou knowest but little of me, Adolf,” said
-Rudenfranck, solemnly, “but thou art destined to
-learn more. See, the moon is already rising
-through the pines, and on this evening, the annual
-recurrence of which, is fraught with dread and woe
-to me; and each succeeding anniversary of which,
-brings me nearer to my stern destiny, shalt thou
-learn of me a secret, which, if thou hast the fearlessness
-of soul to fathom, all may be well, at least
-with thee. But thou canst only learn it of me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Rudenfranck,” said Adolf, “the hunters speak
-much evil of thee, and strange tales are current
-concerning thee in the settlement. Unholy things,
-it is said, flit round thy hut in the hushed hour of
-midnight. Unholy sounds are heard resounding
-through the deep glen where thou abidest. Old
-men speak warily of thee, and cross themselves as
-thou passest by, and the village maidens shrink
-from thy hand in the dance. These may be
-idle tales; but, Rudenfranck, thy words to-night
-are suspicious. Nevertheless, be thou wizard or
-enchanter; be thy knowledge that of the good
-saints, or of a darker world, to thee and to that
-knowledge I commit myself. Thou hast proved
-thy friendship, and, for weal or woe, I will trust
-thee.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Men speak not all aright,” rejoined the hunter,
-while a dark shadow obscured his visage, and his
-words fell as though he spake them unwillingly,
-“nor say they altogether wrong.” The young
-huntsman looked at Rudenfranck for a moment;
-then, grasping his hand, he cried—</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then thou canst aid me, Rudenfranck?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That will I, as I have the power,” said the
-hunter; “but we are at the hut. Thy hand upon
-it, that what I shall tell thee will find a grave in
-thy breast. Else I will not, I cannot assist thee.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“My hand upon it,” replied Adolf.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Enter then,” said the hunter, “let fear be a
-stranger to thy breast, and all shall yet be well.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As they entered the cottage, a shadowy form
-flitted past the door, and the wind sighed mournfully
-through the forest.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'><span class='sc'>Chapter III.</span></h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>The</span> hut of Rudenfranck differed but little in appearance
-from the ordinary dwellings of the settlers
-of the district. Large pine logs, piled rudely together,
-and cemented with mud, in order to exclude
-the wind from the chinks, composed the cabin.
-Two or three common chairs, a pine table, and a
-camp bed, with a few culinary utensils, constituted
-the entire furniture of the hunter’s hut. A torch of
-resinous wood, which flared from an iron bracket,
-gave light to the room, and a large fire soon occupied
-the wide hearth. A few articles of sylvan
-warfare hung round the cabin; and on a shelf,
-some pewter mugs and earthen dishes, a pair of
-stag’s antlers, and two or three old folios, their
-ponderous covers clasped together with silver
-clenches, lay exposed. A large, rawboned dog,
-rough of coat, and muscular of form, whose fine
-muzzle and bright eye, spoke of rare blood, was
-extended before the hearth. Roused by the noise
-made by Rudenfranck and his companion in entering,
-he sprang up, erected his bristles, and uttered a
-low growl.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Down, Fritz, be quiet,” said Rudenfranck, as
-the dog, recognising his master, fawned upon him;
-“welcome to my poor hut, Adolf. I can give
-thee no better cheer than our coarse mountain fare
-will afford, although I may assist thee in some
-other important matters. Come, draw thy chair
-to the fire, man. The wind is somewhat sharp
-to-night, and I will endeavor to make out some
-refreshment for thee.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>He retired for a moment, and entered again,
-bearing a noble supply of fat venison, which he
-immediately set about preparing for their supper.
-The rich steam of the savory steaks soon attracted
-the attention of Fritz, who, stretched out before the
-fire with lion-like gravity, inhaled their genial flavor
-with manifest symptoms of approbation. Rudenfranck’s
-preparations were soon completed, and,
-producing a curious green flask, and two tall silver
-cups from a recess, he invited Adolf, by precept and
-example, to partake of the viands set before him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But the spirit of Adolf was too heavy for feasting,
-and the morsel lay untasted on the trencher
-before him. Rudenfranck himself, although he
-pressed Adolf to eat, neglected his meal, and the
-table was speedily cleared, Fritz being accommodated
-with the relics of the repast.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Taste this wine,” said Rudenfranck, “although
-myself no great lover of the grape, I am somewhat
-curious in my choice of wines, and may indulge my
-little vanity so far as to quaff the juice I drink, out
-of a more costly metal than falls to the lot of most
-gay hunters.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Truly, Rudenfranck,” replied Adolf, “thy promised
-plans for the relief of my unfortunate condition
-seem to have escaped thy memory. For rather
-would I hearken to them, than drink thy wine, even
-from a silver cup.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not so, Adolf,” said the hunter, “I will now
-fulfil my promise to thee. But first, the secret of
-my power to aid thee, and the means by which this
-assistance may be rendered, must be explained to
-thee. Listen, then, and regard not my countenance
-but my words.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You have heard the elders of the hamlet speak
-of Count Theodore Falkenhelm, a renowned noble
-of Alsace, in Germany. This Falkenhelm was
-known to have sailed from Germany, with many
-other settlers for America. Few knew his reasons
-for quitting his native country, for he was a dark,
-unsocial man, and some have said that he had
-dealings with the Spirit of Evil. He had not been
-resident here for a long time, before it was observed
-that he became averse to society, cautious of remark,
-and jealous of scrutiny. The spot in which
-he had fixed his abode, was visited by few footsteps,
-for his mood was fierce, and his society, at times,
-was dangerous. It was concluded that he was insane.
-But it was not so. Mark me.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A youth, some five years after the count had
-taken his dwelling in these mountains, arrived here
-from Germany. He had not long ranged these
-woods, before the fame of the count inspired him
-with a boyish curiosity to see and to know him.
-An opportunity was soon afforded; for returning
-one evening, wearied with the chase, a thunder
-storm and night overtook him near the cottage
-of the count. He demanded hospitality, and was
-admitted, though reluctantly. What he saw that
-night, when all was hushed in the death of sleep,
-he never told to mortal; but he raved wildly of
-fiends and phantoms, and died, soon after, a maniac.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Shortly after this event, the count disappeared,
-nor has since been heard of here. But many succeeding
-years brought news of a dismal tragedy
-in Germany, and from the account of him who
-brought the report, it was supposed by those who
-remembered the count, that he was the principal
-actor in the scene of blood.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The hut which the recluse had deserted, was
-the source of continual dread to the superstitious
-peasants, whose fears had magnified the ruinous
-cabin into a palace, where the revels of the great
-fiend were held. But one, whose heart was bolder,
-and who had lately arrived in the settlement, took
-possession of the hut, repaired it, and there fixed his
-abode. That man, Adolf Westerbok, stands before
-you.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I have not always been what I now appear.
-I was well born, although poor, and had served in
-my country’s battles, not without reputation. I
-loved the daughter of a baron, of high family and
-large estates, whose castle, on the Aar, stood near
-the dwelling of my father. Thy tale of love is
-mine, thus far. Although loved in return, and
-loving—O! spirit of my injured Thekla!—deeper,
-far deeper than mortal, whose blood burned not
-like mine, could love; she was torn from me—me,
-who would have died for her; whose only aim in
-life was to approve myself worthy of her—and
-whose love was mine alone—torn from me, and
-dragged, an unwilling, wretched sacrifice, to the
-castle of a rich nobleman of our country. Here,
-her tears and visible decay, instead of moving compassion
-in the heart of her husband, rendered him
-jealous and morose. On one occasion, he struck
-her to the earth in furious rage—struck her, do you
-mark me?—aye, inflicted a blow on that fair breast
-which I would have braved hell to defend! It
-caused her death, for she was pregnant—she died
-that day. I—yon insulted heaven knows how
-deeply!—I avenged her, and the steel which
-struck the life blow to his heart, never has been,
-and never shall be cleansed. Look at it—I keep
-it as a memorial of most holy revenge!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Rudenfranck drew from his vest a broad, sharp
-dagger, and threw it on the table before Adolf, who
-saw with horror that the blade and hilt were encrusted
-with the stains of long-spilled blood.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I was forced to quit Germany, and wandered
-through Spain an aimless, hopeless man. Here I
-became acquainted with Count Falkenhelm. He was
-in danger from the Inquisition, and I aided his escape
-from their toils. A hater of mankind, naught,
-save the knowledge of how bitter an enmity Falkenhelm
-bore to it, prompted me to rescue him from
-the snare. A murder was committed in Alsace.
-Letters came to me from Falkenhelm, desiring me
-to hasten to him, and ere he met the inevitable
-doom of his crime, to receive a last legacy which
-he wished to bequeath me.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I hastened to him, and on the night ere he
-was executed, he imparted to me this secret: that,
-deep within these forests, the mighty treasures of
-a long buried sage and necromancer, whose power
-could control the elements, and the spirits of
-fire, lay hidden. These were the treasures of
-Bructorix, borne from Germany by magic spells.
-They were guarded by potent spirits of hell. To
-me did he commit this knowledge, together with
-those books, at which you have often wondered,
-and this spell, which commands the world of demons.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As he spoke, he again went to the recess, drew
-forth a small gold box, and opening it with reverence,
-displayed a fair linen cloth, folded in such a
-manner as to present five angles, at equal distances,
-in the centre of which was fixed an opal, of immense
-value, upon which certain mysterious letters were
-engraved. The letters which formed the spell,
-glistened and flashed as though with internal fires,
-as the light fell upon the polished jewel.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This,” said Rudenfranck, closing the box, “is
-the magic pentagon, the key to the treasures of
-King Bructorix.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Heavens!” cried Adolf, “you received, then,
-this most fatal gift?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I did; and took upon myself an awful penalty.
-I said, ‘Ambition! thou shalt be my God, for love
-is lost to me!’ I came on to this country immediately
-after the execution of the count, and have
-discovered the treasure. Reasons, unimportant for
-you to know, have detained me here some years,
-disguised as the hunter Rudenfranck. This is the
-point, then. You cannot obtain Barbara Mullerhorn
-without gold; nor dare I, if I could, bestow this
-treasure upon you. You must follow my example,
-and call upon the spirit of Bructorix yourself. I
-will instruct you in the manner, but you must undertake
-the adventure.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And the penalty you spoke of,” said Adolf,
-trembling, as the hot eyes of Rudenfranck glared
-upon him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I cannot tell you. The spirit proposes different
-sacrifices. Mine is—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A loud gust of wind interrupted the speaker, and
-Adolf shuddered, as he fancied he could distinguish
-the flapping of pinions through the blast.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ha!” said Rudenfranck, breathing hard, and
-speaking low,—“I had forgot!—I had forgot!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Is this thy plan?” said Adolf, “I fear me it is
-unhallowed. I will begone and pray to be delivered
-from the evil one. Rudenfranck, I will not accept
-of such assistance.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thy life upon it,” said the hunter, “if thou
-betrayest me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I have given my hand to secresy, and yet—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Choose well and warily, Adolf.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That will I, Rudenfranck. There can be no
-sin, I trust, in hearing so unholy a tale. Is this the
-only plan—?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is the only one. But, away, if thou canst
-not accept this aid. I can give thee no other.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then,” said Adolf, as he turned slowly to
-leave the hut, “I am ruined and desperate!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Aye, go,” said Rudenfranck bitterly, looking
-after the retreating form of Adolf, with a fiendish
-sneer, “go, fool! Thus is it ever with that microcosm
-of folly, man. Aye, I can plainly see that
-the treasure of King Bructorix will soon acquire a
-new guardian. Another victim, and I leave these
-fatal shores, and forever.”</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'><span class='sc'>Chapter IV.</span></h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>As</span> Adolf returned homeward, many and various
-were the contending reflections which embittered
-his mind. At one time he thought of the misery
-which he must endure in beholding the object of his
-dearest affections, united to Mienckel, her profound
-aversion; now, vague dreams of the wealth and
-happiness which the possession of the hidden treasure
-would confer upon him, flitted across his mind;
-but a chill damp struck through his soul as he remembered
-the intimated penalty; and wild imaginations
-of spectral forms, demoniac faces, and the
-awful legendary tales, so current among the peasantry,
-filled his breast with horror. He reached his cottage,
-and threw himself upon his humble couch, agonised
-by conflicting emotions. No sleep visited his pillow,
-and early the next morning he arose and went
-forth, hoping to subdue the fever of his blood by
-exercise in the cold air. He wandered about for
-some time, listless in which direction he took his
-way, until he found himself near the farm house of
-old Mullerhorn.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was a jolly day at the house of that ancient.
-Turkeys, geese, pigs, and the promiscuous tenantry
-of the barn yard, bled beneath the knives of the rosy
-Dutch damsels. The smoke curled in copious
-volumes from the ample chimneys, and the hissing
-of culinary utensils, employed at the genial occupation
-of preparing divers dainties, together with the
-savory odors from the purlieus of the kitchen, gave
-indisputable tokens that something highly important
-was taking place in the house. Adolf viewed this
-busy scene with melancholy feelings enough, for he
-well presaged what it meaned. He paused, and
-leaned sadly on his rifle; but his heart felt still
-heavier, when, from a window of the farm house a
-fair white hand was extended, waving a handkerchief
-toward him. A tear stole down his cheek, as he
-acknowledged the signal, and, raising his rifle, was
-about to depart, when a slight tap on the shoulder
-arrested him, and a plump little maiden, whose rosy
-cheeks, and smiling face, were the very emblems of
-good humor, in fact, a perfect Dutch Hebe, accosted
-him.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why, how now, master Adolf? Have you not
-a word for an old acquaintance?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ah, Agatha, is it thou? How dost thou, my
-good lass?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Better, Adolf, than either yourself or Barbara,
-if there is any judgment in your looks. Why, you
-look as if you had seen a spectre, and if you will
-keep company with that black-looking wretch, that
-Franz Rudenfranck, I wouldn’t insure that you
-will not see one, some of these dark nights. Bless
-me, how you change color. Are you sick?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No, no, Agatha. Not so sick in body as in
-heart. How fares Barbara?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why, indeed, Dolf, for I will call you Dolf
-again, and it’s a shame for father Philip to make
-us all call you master Adolf; master indeed! she
-has done nothing but cry all night. But she is to
-be married to old Chriss this morning—the odious
-fool! I’m sure she hates him—and I’ve a thousand
-things to do; so good bye to you Dolf.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The lively little girl ran off, and Adolf again was
-about to pursue his path, when old Mullerhorn,
-accompanied by the intended bridegroom, and some
-of his neighbors, arrived at the farm.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What, Adolf,” said the old man, while a cynical
-smile played over his thin features, “Adolf here.
-Thou hast been a stranger of late, lad. But, come,
-wilt thou not in with us and witness this merry
-marriage? In faith, it will gladden my little Barbara
-to see thee there. Come, thou must aid in
-this gay ceremony.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Adolf was, for a moment, undecided what answer
-to make old Mullerhorn; but curbing his indignation,
-and repressing an angry reply—he thought it
-most prudent to accept the invitation.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I thank you, neighbor Philip,” said he, “and
-willingly will go with you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why, that is well spoken, boy,” replied the
-old man, unusually elated by the occasion. “I
-always liked thee, Adolf; but no ducats, lad, no
-ducats.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They are not so very difficult to procure,”
-whispered a voice in Adolf’s ear; he turned, and
-beheld Rudenfranck.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, in, Adolf; and eh? Franz Rudenfranck
-too? But, in—in with ye both,” said old Mullerhorn,
-and the party entered the farm-house.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The room into which they were ushered, was an
-ample, commodious apartment, constructed in the
-true Dutch fashion, with a polished oak floor, and
-noble rafters of the same wood. It was hung
-around with some few gay colored prints, illustrating
-Scripture subjects, and some bright tin sconces;
-and the furniture was substantial, although homely.
-A large mahogany press, whose bright surface and
-polished brass knobs, might have compared in brilliancy
-with the mirror, stood in one corner; an old
-fashioned Indian chest, ponderous and highly japanned,
-ornamented the opposite niche. Some heavy
-chairs with long, high backs, and formal arms and
-legs; the never failing spinning wheel and Dutch
-clock; and a pair of tall, ill-shaped, brass fire-dogs,
-completed the garniture of the apartment. The
-walls were decorated with festoons of evergreen,
-tastefully arranged by the fair hands of Barbara
-herself. Two ill-looking, dingy paintings, also occupied
-a couple of recesses; and a neatly polished
-cherry table, near a window, displayed an inviting
-array of apple brandy, cherry wine, cider, and such
-refreshments as were indigenous to the country.
-The good dame, after welcoming kindly her guests,
-bustled off to resume the superintendence of the
-kitchen; and the unfortunate Barbara herself, arrayed
-in bridal trim, and looking through her tears,
-as lovely as the violet, freshly bathed in dew, remained,
-seated in one of the large chairs, and
-vainly endeavoring to conceal her emotion. As
-Adolf entered, her heart palpitated violently, and
-she could with difficulty so far command herself,
-as to bid him welcome. Nor did the sight of Barbara
-in such distress, fail equally to afflict her lover;
-a grief which Rudenfranck artfully increased, by
-hinting strongly to Adolf, the possibility of changing
-the entire face of the scene.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The magistrate having arrived, and matters being
-so arranged as to bring the affiance to a conclusion,
-Rudenfranck took the opportunity to lead Adolf
-apart from the rest.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thou thrice sodden ass,” said he, “can’st thou
-call thyself a lover, and yet allow so much innocence
-and beauty to be sacrificed to age and avarice?
-Say thou the word; promise to obey me,
-and thou shalt yet possess her. See, they are about
-to sign. Hesitate a moment longer—and look,
-Barbara implores thee—she is lost. Farewell.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Stay,” rejoined Adolf, hurriedly, “this must
-not—shall not be. Rudenfranck, I promise.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then, demand of old Mullerhorn that the ceremony
-be delayed, and leave the rest to me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Father Philip,” said Adolf, addressing Mullerhorn,
-who was just about to affix his name to the
-deed, “you are aware how long and how truly I
-have loved Barbara. To see her thus sacrificed, is
-more than I can bear, and I entreat you to consider
-farther upon this matter, and to defer this marriage.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The guests looked utterly confounded. Chriss
-Mienckel opened wide his large, gray eyes, and
-stared upon the bold hunter in profound amazement.
-Barbara turned red and pale by turns; and old Mullerhorn
-crimsoned with rage.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Have I not told ye, Adolf Westerbok, that I
-would never bestow Barbara upon a beggarly hunter?
-What devil then, prompts thee to interrupt a
-match which thou hast no power to prevent?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Dearest father,” said Barbara, clasping the hard
-hand of the old man, “hearken to Adolf.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Away, idle girl! Adolf, tempt me not to do
-thee an injury.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nay,” said the hunter, “is it even so? Well,
-then; gold for gold—ducat for ducat—nay, double
-each ducat that old Mienckel can bestow, will I lay
-before you, Philip Mullerhorn.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thy morning draught has been somewhat of
-the strongest, Adolf. Where should’st thou have
-met with these sums?” Chriss Mienckel chuckled
-portentously, and thrusting each hand into his capacious
-pockets, a melodious harmony of jingling
-coins soon resounded from their precincts.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Look in thy pouch,” whispered Rudenfranck.
-Adolf did so, and drew forth two purses, richly furnished
-with gold. Astonishment fairly stupified the
-guests; and the covetous eyes of old Mullerhorn
-glistened at the sight of money. But the recollection
-of Mienckel’s broad lands and fair cattle crossed
-his mind.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Gold for gold,” said he, musingly. “Well,
-well, it may be so; and Adolf, when thou canst
-certify me concerning these riches, thou shalt,
-perhaps, find me not altogether opposed to thee.
-This ceremony, for the present, with the consent of
-Mienckel, shall be postponed.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mienckel nodded his assent; for he was a man
-of but few words. But Adolf, holding the hand of
-Barbara, demanded an immediate trial.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Be it so, then,” replied Mullerhorn. “My
-neighbor’s property is well known. Let it be thy
-task to prove thy fortune equal to his.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” said Mienckel, “house and farm—cattle
-and gear—broad lands—rich farming ground—bright
-ducats——”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“To balance which, I throw, as earnest, these
-purses,” said Adolf. “Rudenfranck, can’st thou
-not aid me now?” whispered he, turning to the
-hunter.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not now,” rejoined Rudenfranck, “you have
-the last of my gold. To-night——”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“To-night!” said Adolf, impatiently, “an age!
-Father Philip, I pledge myself that on the morrow
-I will prove myself worthy your regard in purse as
-well as in love.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Agreed,” said Mullerhorn, “until to-morrow let
-the espousal be deferred. If thou can’st then satisfy
-my doubts, Barbara shall be thine. If not, this
-marriage shall no longer be prevented.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Thanks, father, and farewell. Come thou with
-me, Rudenfranck. Ere to-morrow night, sweet Barbara,
-all shall be accomplished.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Rudenfranck and Adolf left the house, and
-walked through the forest in the direction of the
-hut of Rudenfranck. Few words were exchanged
-between them, until, being arrived at the hut,
-they closed the door carefully, and Adolf broke
-silence.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Now, Rudenfranck,” said he, “I must know
-the means by which this treasure may be discovered.
-Speak then, and quickly. I promise obedience in
-all matters, faithfully and truly.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Then,” replied Rudenfranck, “it is thus. Meet
-me to-night, as the moon casts a straight shadow
-over the range of the Wolf Hills. You know the
-dark cavern by the run, where, it is said, that old
-Schwearenheim was carried off bodily, by the Evil
-One——”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is a fearful place, and a fearful hour,” said
-Adolf.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Fool, thou hast gone too far to recede. Only
-hint at doing so, and, by all the fiends of hell, I
-withdraw every hope of my assistance from thee.
-Wilt thou excite the expectations of Barbara, only
-to dash them again to the earth? Wilt thou thus
-vacillate, until it becomes too late to save her from
-Mienckel? If thou dost so, thou art the veriest
-driveller that wears man’s attire. Mark me, and
-answer not. Meet me there, at the cave, when the
-midnight hour arrives; and hark thee, thou must
-procure a wafer of the consecrated host. Bring
-thy rifle with thee, and leave the rest to my care.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Be it so,” said Adolf, “it is too late to recede.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“See that thou fail not,” said Rudenfranck,
-“and now promise to Mullerhorn what thou wilt.
-Keep thou but faith with me, and thou shalt enjoy
-all that thou hast ever hoped for. Be not seen with
-me to-day. Go to the village. Look cheerily;
-procure that which I have directed thee, and fail
-not at midnight.”</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'><span class='sc'>Chapter V.</span></h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>The</span> shades of evening were gradually enveloping
-the country in darkness, as Adolf and Barbara sat
-together, in the mansion of the Mullerhorns. They
-spoke of love and happier times, and the bright eyes
-of the maiden beamed joyously upon the countenance
-of the youth. Adolf had learned the art of
-dissimulation in a brief space of time. Alas! it is
-but the first step in evil that alarms, and he, that
-has abandoned the paths of virtue, but for a moment,
-finds it far more difficult to retrace his steps,
-than to continue in the ways of error. To the
-enquiries of Barbara, concerning the wealth which
-he had so lately acquired, he replied, that the death
-of a relation, whose property was ample, had enabled
-him to compete, in point of riches, even with
-Christopher Mienckel. Barbara fully believed him;
-for true love is ever ready of faith; and fondly
-pictured to herself many a scene of happiness and
-of domestic felicity. Thus the evening wore on;
-and the hunter was startled to hear the hour of ten
-strike from the clock, as he arose to quit the society
-of Barbara, and to join the companion of his unhallowed
-undertaking.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Whither away to-night, and so early, Adolf?”
-asked Barbara, as the hunter made ready to depart.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I have shot a buck in the forest, and must seek
-aid to bring him in,” replied Adolf.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is full late to seek your game in the broad
-forest to-night, Adolf,” said Piet Albrecht, who had
-been solacing himself with a dish of discourse with
-Agatha, in the kitchen, and now came to bid Barbara
-good night. “Yet, if you would wish my
-help, to show you that I have forgotten our difference,
-I don’t care if I go with you.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I thank thee, Piet,” replied the young man,
-“but the game lies far off, and Franz Rudenfranck
-has promised to go with me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Where have you left it?” asked Barbara.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Deep in the forest; near the Wolf Hills. At
-the cave of Schwearenheim.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know not,” said Piet, shuddering, “what
-could tempt me to go there, so near midnight. It
-will be nearly that, Adolf, when you reach there,
-and the cave is, the saints be good to us, an unholy
-spot.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Pshaw, Piet, this is mere superstition,” said the
-hunter; but his cheek glowed, and his flesh trembled.
-“Why should the cave be a more unholy
-spot than any other part of the forest?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You know as well as I do, Adolf, that few of
-the hunters have the courage to pass there after
-dark. My father has told me awful things of the
-place, and one of them happened to himself.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What was that, pray, Piet?” said Agatha, “did
-he tumble into the run, and fancy that the water
-was Schiedam?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nothing of the sort, Mistress Agatha,” responded
-Piet. “You must know that my father
-was a woodsman, as bold as any man among the
-hills. He happened to be late out one evening,
-after game; and had chased a large mountain cat
-to the run, where the cat climbed up an old hollow
-tree. My father followed him closely, and mounted
-after him; but his hold gave way, as he was looking
-down the hollow, and he slipped clear through
-the hole, good forty feet down the inside of the
-tree. Well, he thought that his hour was come,
-and that he should starve to death there; for the
-inside of the tree was so smooth that he could get
-no hold for either hand or foot; and so he had lost
-all hope of ever escaping, when he saw something
-black come sliding down the tree. He recommended
-himself to God, and when the thing, whatever
-it was, came within reach, he seized hold of
-it, and it climbed up again, dragging my father
-after it. It had no sooner reached the top of the
-tree; but a loud clap of thunder was heard, and the
-thing sailed away in a flame of fire, far away over
-the tree tops. My father clung fast to the trunk of
-the tree, and slid down the outside, after he had
-clambered out of the hollow; then thanking Providence
-for his deliverance, he went home as fast as
-his legs could carry him.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A wonderful tale, indeed, Piet,” said Agatha,
-laughing.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wonderful enough,” said Piet.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Well, Piet,” said Adolf, “was this truth?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Truth!” replied Piet, “I should like to have
-heard any man tell my father that it was otherwise.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Do not go to-night, dearest Adolf,” said Barbara,
-turning pale.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This is mere folly, sweet Barbara. If I failed
-to bring home my buck, all the hunters would cry
-shame upon me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The clock struck the half hour, and Adolf,
-snatching up his rifle, bade Barbara good night,
-and leaving the house, struck into the path which
-led to the Wolf Hills.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Aye, aye,” said Piet, looking after him, “he
-doesn’t believe in any such matters; but I fear it
-is no good that he is bent upon. So much gold,
-too, and so lately. But it’s no affair of mine.
-Did you mark the wildness of his eye, though,
-Agatha?”</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'><span class='sc'>Chapter VI.</span></h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>The</span> moon shone brightly and calmly over the
-still woods, and the gentle breath of the night wind
-sighed mournfully over the ear, as it kissed the
-forest branches, and swept through the tops of the
-pines. The murmur of the stream, as it flowed
-smoothly onward between the high mountain passes,
-added to the soft influence of the scene. All nature
-was lulled into repose. A small charcoal fire, burning
-on a rocky ledge, beneath a tall cliff, disclosed
-the mouth of a dark cavern, at the entrance of
-which sat Rudenfranck, the hunter, wrapped in a
-cloak, to protect his person from the heavy damps
-of the night. He rose from his seat, and moved
-restlessly about, making some arrangements in the
-mouth of the cavern, and occasionally casting an
-anxious glance over the surrounding hills, as if impatiently
-expecting his victim.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I think that he will hardly fail me,” muttered
-he. “No, he has too much at stake to abandon
-this enterprise. How still the night is! Strange,
-that he comes not, and yet the hour approaches
-rapidly. All is prosperous thus far. O, star of my
-destiny, triumph in this hour, which is doomed to
-complete the anxious toil of years! Rejoice in the
-anticipated majesty of high dominion! But why
-do I feel so sad? What small voice is that, which
-whispers me to desist from my undertaking? Repentance—repentance!
-My spirit is too dark, and
-I could not, if I would, repent. How quickly my
-heart beats as the time speeds on! Yet one more
-victim! Why, I shall be a king? that word is too
-weak, to express the glorious extent of wisdom and
-power which I shall enjoy. But happiness—no,
-no!—that feeling I shall never more experience!
-These thoughts—the recollection of past crime.
-Why should I think of crime, who am beyond the
-hope of salvation? Ha! he comes! ’Twas but
-the plash of an otter. No! he is here!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Rudenfranck, is it thou?” said Adolf, “lend
-me thy hand. So. I have met with strange warnings
-in my path toward thee. I fear to go on.
-Can nothing be devised save this dread trial?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I have already told thee, nothing. Come up.
-The air is damp, and my fire burns brightly. Have
-you procured that which I desired of thee?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I have it; but, Rudenfranck, sacrilege was the
-price of it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Never regard the price, so as thou hast it.
-This is right,” said the hunter, as he received the
-consecrated wafer. “Help me to build this pile,
-which must be raised before we commence our
-solemn work.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Adolf assisted Rudenfranck to build a small pile
-of stones, upon which were deposited the box containing
-the pentagon, the consecrated wafer, and
-a small cruse, in which was a dark red liquid.
-Rudenfranck also placed a brazier on the pile, into
-which he deposited some slips of parchment, inscribed
-with talismanic characters. As they finished
-their task, the moon cast a straight and gigantic
-shadow across the Wolf Hills, and the pines seemed
-to dilate, in the white glare, to an unearthly size.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is the hour,” said Rudenfranck. “Be firm.
-Shrink not; and expect the full reward of thy
-bravery. Help me to don these vestments.” He
-threw across his shoulders a furred robe, which he
-bound tightly round his body with a broad, red
-girdle. He then placed on his head a conical cap,
-and taking in his hand a sword, inscribed with characters,
-and without a guard, he described on the
-earth, the form of a pentagon, the centre of the
-figure being occupied by the altar stones, at the
-side of which Rudenfranck placed his companion.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Lay thine hand on the altar,” said Rudenfranck,
-“and pour from this cruse into the brazier, the
-liquid which it contains. Stay not to look around
-thee, but feed the fire steadily, while I perform our
-magic ceremonies.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Rudenfranck lit a fire in the brazier as he spoke,
-and drawing a dagger from his girdle, plunged it
-violently into his arm. The blood flowed freely.
-He allowed it to run upon the five angles, reciting
-in a strange language, mysterious charms. He
-then placed the linen pentagon in front of his
-breast, and commanded Adolf to feed the flame as
-he had instructed him. Adolf poured the liquid
-from the cruse into the burning brazier; and Rudenfranck,
-gradually raising his voice, until from a
-measured chaunt, he broke into furious vehemence,
-suddenly pronounced the charm of the opal. The
-moon, which had till now shone brightly, changed
-its color to a deep red; thunder rolled, and the
-forked lightning flashed frequently and fearfully.
-The stars shot wildly across the face of heaven.
-The wind whistled and groaned through the trees.
-The earth quaked; and the whole frame of nature
-seemed to shudder at the incantation. A furious
-crash resounded through the cavern; brilliant lights
-danced through the gloom; the magic words engraved
-on the opal gave out a dense and aromatic
-smoke, and the entire body of rock, seeming to split
-asunder, with a tremendous crash, disclosed a magnificent
-brazen gate, ornamented with characters
-similar to those on the opal, at the sides of which
-two gigantic skeletons, crowned with diadems, and
-bearing strange weapons in their bony grasp, stood,
-the grisly warders of the charmed treasure.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Rudenfranck paused from his incantations, and,
-turning to Adolf, said in a hoarse whisper,</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“This is the portal which encloses the treasures
-of Bructorix; but the phantom of the sage must
-now be invoked. Take thou this holy wafer, and
-affix it to yon brazen gate. Do this speedily, and
-fear not.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Adolf, highly excited and bewildered by the
-scene, obeyed without hesitation. Once, as he
-was about to affix the consecrated element to the
-gate, he fancied that some invisible arm endeavored
-to restrain his hand; but he performed the
-commands of Rudenfranck, and returned to the
-altar.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Now,” said Rudenfranck, “but one more thing
-remains for thee to perform. Raise thy rifle; take
-good aim, and shoot at the wafer of the host.
-Shoot bravely!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The wretched and abandoned Adolf followed the
-instructions of Rudenfranck. He raised his rifle,
-took deliberate aim at the holy emblem, and fired.
-A demoniac shout rang through the cave. The
-angles of the pentagon shot forth vivid lightnings.
-The skeleton guardians of the gate threw down
-their weapons, while red light flamed from their
-eyeless skulls. The massive leaves of the gate flew
-wide open, and displayed an immense vault, filled
-with huge vases of gold and jewels, which shone
-with ineffable brilliance. The arched and fretted
-roof was sustained by bronze pillars, representing
-strange and hideous animals, contorted into the
-most grotesque attitudes. Thousands of gnomes,
-swarmed through the vault, of misshapen forms,
-whose fierce and raging eyes dwelt upon the hunters,
-with anger and contempt. Thrice did Rudenfranck,
-bowing himself to the earth, call upon the
-name of Bructorix. Thrice hollow thunder pealed
-throughout the cavern, and, at the third appeal, a
-gigantic figure rose slowly through the earth, and
-stood before them. The figure was enveloped in
-an imperial robe of purple, embroidered with jewels,
-precious beyond description. A girdle of living fire
-encircled his waist, and a crown of various and
-brilliant gems bound his white and flowing locks.
-In his hand he carried an ivory sceptre. His countenance,
-scathed by flames, looked like that of some
-ghastly denizen of the tomb, newly raised to-day;
-and its expression was lofty, haughty and commanding.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Who calls upon the name of Bructorix?” asked
-the spectre, in a sepulchral voice.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The seeker of his power, mighty spirit,” answered
-Rudenfranck. “I bring to thee the promised
-victim, and expect the reward of my services.
-Once more prolong the date of my life, and execute
-those promises made me; when by mighty spells,
-I had raised thee from the abode of the dead, in
-Germany. That term expired, I bring unto thee
-another soul, or else resign my own.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Would this youth enjoy my treasures,” asked
-the phantom, “and knows he the nature of the
-obligation I demand of him?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“He asks wealth of thee, and, in return, will accede
-to thy demands.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Let him sign the deed, which gives over to my
-master his soul and body, and his wishes shall be
-gratified.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Rudenfranck drew from his breast a parchment
-scroll, and the infatuated Adolf, with his own blood,
-subscribed to his eternal ruin.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Take of my treasures,” said the sceptre, “what
-thou would’st have, and use it as thou wilt. In
-exchange for the gift of thy soul, contained in this
-writing, thou shalt have full access to my treasure.
-But, mark me. Seven years are granted unto thee,
-at the close of which time, thou must return, and
-pay thy homage to the lord of these realms.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And myself?” asked Rudenfranck, “shall I
-not reap the harvest for which I have labored?
-Recollect thy promises made me in Germany.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“They are thine,” said the spirit. “This sceptre
-controls the fiercest demons. Take it. Return to
-thy native land, and revel in the possession of all
-earthly wisdom, riches, and power. But when thy
-date of life has again expired, seek not to renew it.
-It is enough. Dismiss me.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Depart to thy place, accursed spirit,” said the
-hunter. The spirit of Bructorix descended, and the
-phantoms hastened to pile the vases of gold and
-jewels outside of the brazen gate, until the first grey
-light of the dawn began to glimmer through the
-clouds. Instantly, the gorgeous scene disappeared,
-and the cavern resumed its original appearance.
-Adolf and Rudenfranck, loading themselves with
-gold, carefully filled up the mouth of the cavern
-with rocks and brushwood, and returned warily,
-homeward.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'><span class='sc'>Chapter VII.</span></h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>The</span> guests of the preceding day were assembled
-in the farm house of Philip Mullerhorn, eagerly
-awaiting the arrival of Adolf. Old Mullerhorn
-went frequently to the door, and looked out, with
-anxiety, down the road which Adolf usually took
-when he visited the farm.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I fear all is not right with him,” said he.
-“Adolf is late in coming this morning. He should
-have been here a full hour before this.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Peradventure,” snuffled Chriss, “the young man
-has fled, doubting whether he could make good his
-boasts of yesterday.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Not so fast, my good friend,” said the voice
-of Adolf himself, who then entered, bearing in
-his hand a valise, evidently containing articles of
-weight. “We shall soon prove whose boasts shall be
-first accomplished.” As he spoke, he threw the valise
-upon the table, before Mullerhorn, “I am come,”
-said he, “Father Philip, to receive my bride.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Heavens!” said Barbara, earnestly regarding
-the countenance of Adolf, “what has thus blanched
-thy brow, and changed thy visage? Thy cheek is
-ghastly, and thy look unearthly! Why glares thine
-eye so wildly? What hast thou done? The light
-of thine eye is not from heaven! Holy Virgin! the
-cave! the cave!” cried she, fainting.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Adolf, what ails thee?” asked Mullerhorn.
-“Thy brow is indeed pale, and thine eye fierce and
-blood-shot. Thou comest from no holy work this
-morning. Hadst thou the whole treasure of earth, no
-daughter of mine, Adolf Westerbok, should’st thou
-wed, until the secret of thy conduct is explained.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“It is nothing,” said Adolf, stammering as he
-spoke, “a weariness—a sickness—it will soon be
-over.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I fear the mark on thy brow is of no earthly
-malady. Remain here no longer. Depart from us,
-for thy society is not for that of Christian men.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I come to claim my bride!” cried Adolf,
-hoarsely, “and to pay the dower. No man shall
-prevent me from this. Why gaze ye thus on me?
-Stand back; the man who interferes in this shall
-rue his intrusion. Barbara, dear Barbara, you
-cannot, do not thus repulse me?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Adolf,” said Barbara, gaining courage, and her
-voice before faltering, becoming firm and steady,
-“depart from me. All is now explained. Thy
-anxiety of last evening; thy expedition to the cave
-of Schwearenheim; all is explained. Barbara Mullerhorn
-may have loved thee, and she did so; but
-she will never consent to be the bride of a forsaken
-wretch like thee.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A sudden exclamation from Piet Albrecht attracted
-the attention of all present, and aroused
-Adolf from the stupor into which the words of
-Barbara had thrown him. The room was filled
-with a rich, purple light, in which the figure of
-Rudenfranck, arrayed in his magical vestures, and
-holding the ivory sceptre of Bructorix, appeared to
-the terrified spectators. Well might they be terrified;
-for upon the brow of the hunter a brilliant
-star gleamed brightly with a sulphurous light, and
-his tall figure seemed to dilate to superhuman size.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Why dost thou stare at me?” sneered Rudenfranck
-to Adolf, who gazed upon him with a
-bewildered look; “why dost thou stare at me?
-Produce thy treasure and claim thy bride.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No! no bride of hell!” shouted Mullerhorn.
-“I doubted this yesterday. Away from us, Adolf
-Westerbok; and thou, mysterious being, whether
-thou be phantom or devil, in the name of God I
-defy thee.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And see,” cried Mienckel, tearing open the
-valise, “what is here?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Old chips of iron and leather, as I live,” said
-Albrecht. “It is the Evil One. Let us fly from
-here, else we die!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Adolf gazed wildly at the valise, and with a loud
-cry of despair, seized his rifle, and vainly endeavored
-to destroy himself.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ha! ha!” laughed Rudenfranck, “thou hast
-yet seven years to enjoy thy gold. These are the
-treasures for which thou hast forfeited thy soul.
-Miserable fool! Did’st thou think it mattered to
-me whether thy fate was prosperous or not! Into
-the snare thou did’st enter of thine own accord,
-and thou must pay the penalty. Farewell! My
-ends are accomplished! For the prescribed space
-of my life, wealth, wisdom, and power in the fullest
-are mine! That space expired, I will mock at thee
-in the halls of the fiend. This sacrifice of thy soul
-hath ensured my success, and I thank thee for it.
-Farewell, Adolf Westerbok. Fool! idiot! driveller!
-Thou hast thy hire, and I triumph over the world
-of spirits.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>As he spoke, he waved his magic sceptre. The
-cloud enveloped him in its folds, and he disappeared,
-with a laugh of malicious scorn.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk114'/>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Barbara Mullerhorn survived the misfortunes
-which had attended her early love, and lived
-to marry a wealthy farmer of the neighborhood,
-who proved himself every way worthy of her
-choice.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Piet and Agatha also entered upon the matrimonial
-engagement, and their descendants may still be
-found among the hills.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk115'/>
-
-<p class='pindent'>For some years after, a wan, gaunt, and ragged
-wretch might have been seen toiling and digging
-incessantly along the range of the Wolf Hills. The
-fire of lunacy burned in his eye, he spoke to no one,
-and never uttered language, save in his insane self-communings.
-The neighbors universally shunned
-him, and no charitable voice soothed his misery.
-He dwelt in the gloomy cave by the run, where the
-unholy rites of Rudenfranck had been celebrated.
-His sole occupation consisted in a continual search
-after hidden treasure.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Seven years had elapsed since the occurrences
-above narrated, were reported to have taken place,
-when a hunter, pursuing his game among the Wolf
-Hills, accidentally discovered the dead body of a
-man, shockingly torn and mangled, at the entrance
-of the cavern of the recluse. It was the corpse
-of Adolf Westerbok, the Silver Digger of the
-Wolf Hills.</p>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>NOTE.</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'>This legendary tale, we learn, is founded upon a
-superstitious tradition, still current among the backwoodsmen
-of Pennsylvania. The outline of the tale
-is preserved as far as the nature of the legend would
-permit. The cavern is yet to be seen, where the
-hidden treasures are supposed to have been concealed;
-and the hardy hunter of the mountains still regards it
-with fear, and prefers taking a long circuit through
-the woods, to passing the cavern after nightfall. The
-whole country, indeed, is full of such traditions, which
-only require the pen of a Scott to be perpetuated,
-alike for the amusement and wonder of posterity. Let
-no man say that America is without legendary lore,
-let no one deny that she affords materials for poetry!
-Every hill; every stream; every valley; every plain
-has its own wild story of border troubles, or Indian
-traditions. When shall <span class='it'>our</span> minstrel arise to hallow
-them in undying song?—<span class='sc'>Eds.</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span style='font-size:smaller'>Mt. Savage, Md. January, 1841.</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr class='tbk116'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='skat'></a>SKATING.</h1></div>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1em;'>“The winter has come, and the skaters are here.”</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>BY GEORGE LUNT.</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'>The earth is white with gleaming snow,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The lake one sheet of silver lies,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Beneath the morning’s ruddy glow,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The steaming vapors gently rise.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Keen is the cool and frosty air,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;That waves the pine trees on the hill,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And voiceless as a whispered prayer,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Breathes down the valley clear and still.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Come, ’tis an hour to stir the blood</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;To glowing life in every vein!</p>
-<p class='line0'>Up,—for the sport is keen and good</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Across the bright and icy plain.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>On each impatient foot to-day,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The ringing steel again we’ll bind,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And o’er the crystal plain away,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;We’ll leave the world and care behind.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>And, oh! what joy is ours to play,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;In rapid, round, and swift career,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And snatch beneath the wintry day,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;One moment’s rest, and hasty cheer.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Then, when the brief, sweet day is done,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And stars above begin to blink,</p>
-<p class='line0'>As home the swift lake bears us on,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Our sweethearts meet us on the brink.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Then gather’d round the cheerful blaze,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;While gusts without are blowing shrill,</p>
-<p class='line0'>With laugh, and jest, and merry lays,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;We pass the jocund evening still.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Around the board our feats all told,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Comes nature’s welcome hour of rest,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And slumbers never bought with gold,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Sit light on each untroubled breast.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>No lagging pulse impedes our sleep,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;No startling dreams our couch annoy,</p>
-<p class='line0'>But health and peace, in quiet deep,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Smile hovering round the country boy.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Then, when the morning bright and clear,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Springs gayly o’er the glistening hill,</p>
-<p class='line0'>With hardy sports we hail it near,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Or hardy labors bless it still.</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span style='font-size:smaller'>Newburyport, Massachusetts, January, 1841.</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr class='tbk117'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='syri'></a>THE SYRIAN LETTERS.</h1></div>
-
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>———</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;font-size:0.8em;font-weight:bold;'>WRITTEN PROM DAMASCUS, BY SERVILIUS PRISCUS OF CONSTANTINOPLE, TO HIS KINSMAN, CORNELIUS DRUSUS, RESIDING AT ATHENS, AND BUT NOW TRANSLATED.</p>
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>———</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:right;margin-right:2em;margin-bottom:1em;'>Damascus.</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:left;margin-left:2em;margin-bottom:1em;'><span class='sc'>Servilius to Cornelius—Greeting</span>:</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>Your</span> reply to my last epistle, my dear Cornelius,
-was the more pleasing, because so unexpected.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The speed of its transmission shows the great
-measure of our obligation to the sagacity and enterprise
-of Constantine. For who, until our emperor
-bent to it the considerations of his active mind,
-ever knew of such rapidity of communication?</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In the fair lines before me, I again greet the face
-of a friend, and hold cheering communion with one
-divided by long distance. I promised in my last to
-give you some description of the curious ceremonies
-of those worshippers, and I find you are urgent that
-I should fulfil it, since I was so fortunate as to witness
-some of the hidden mysteries.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>You esteem it strange that I, a foreigner, and
-but a few hours in Baalbec, should have stood at
-once upon such good terms with Mobilius, as to
-have induced him to conduct me to one of the
-most secret recesses of the temple—with all the
-perils of exposure through my carelessness. I have
-nothing to offer in answer to your surmise but conjecture.
-Mobilius was certainly upon some familiar
-footing with the priests, and perhaps being partly
-moved by the hope that the imposing magnificence
-of the ceremonial would win a convert to his creed,
-he ventured to introduce me. If such was his anticipation,
-how signally in error! how vain to fancy
-that the sense can blind the judgment! that the
-splendor of the cloud that curtains some yawning
-chasm in the mountain side, can be mistaken for
-the solid pathway.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The sun had long gone down beneath the dizzy
-peaks of Lebanon, indeed night had far advanced,
-when Lactantius, Mobilius, and myself, properly
-arrayed in dark vestments, sallied toward the temple
-of the sun. Hurried along at a rapid pace, for
-he feared we had tarried too long, we soon came
-in view of the temple’s towering portico, which
-may still be seen by the curious stranger, even in
-the absence of the moon; for ever-burning lamps,
-filled, as they say, by never-failing oil, hang beneath
-the architrave. Entering at the great door, we were
-stopped by the porter, but recognising Mobilius,
-he permitted us to pass, without farther scrutiny,
-though he was evidently displeased; for although I
-could not clearly distinguish what he spoke, I heard
-him mutter angrily in the Syrian tongue.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We did not cross the grand courts, which, like
-the portico, were filled with perpetual lamps, but
-hastened through low corridors, vaults, and crooked
-passages, which might defy the skill of man to
-retrace, but Mobilius seemed well accustomed to
-them, so that I inferred he had acted as a guide on
-more than one occasion. After endless windings,
-we came into an archway, faintly lighted from
-without, and proceeding farther, entered a dark
-room. Here we were obliged to grope our way,
-and were commanded by Mobilius to tread with the
-utmost caution. We speedily, however, came to a
-spot, from which we beheld the great floor of the
-temple, through a narrow opening, artfully concealed
-in one of the ornaments of the entablature. All
-was still.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Earlier than I expected,” whispered Mobilius,
-“the ceremonies have not yet begun.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>This leisure enabled me to examine the exquisite
-architecture of the edifice.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The temple was the loftiest of all those that surrounded
-it, and which had their position and style
-of architecture in strict reference to this, as their
-great centre. The roof was of marble, and I could
-clearly distinguish, by the lamps around, the delicacy
-and lightness of its mouldings, pannels, and compartments.
-In the centre was a sun, carved in the full
-glory of his rays: marshalled at equal distances, surrounded
-by its sculptured edge, and sunk deeply
-into the marble, like a picture in its frame, were
-the heads of Venus, or as this people designate her,
-the “Syrian Goddess,” and also of Jupiter and
-other deities; and if I do not err, I could discern,
-constellated like the rest, the heads of Antoninus,
-and of other Roman emperors.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The marble walls were carved with niches and
-tabernacles disposed in two rows, which were filled
-with statues, between the floor and the roof, and
-supporting the latter, stood pilasters and columns
-of the same order as those which sustain the architrave.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Upon the tesselated pavement in the centre of
-the temple was erected a gorgeous altar, composed
-in part of precious metals, and of rare and various
-marbles, tastefully inlaid, and yet all designed in
-conformity with the strict rules of the architect.
-The fires upon it threw a reddened glow upon the
-walls and pillars, and a representation of the sun
-seemingly illumined from within, by a mildly burning
-light, whether real or unsubstantial, I cannot
-say, hovered above the altar, resembling the undulating
-brightness which the agitated waters in the
-vase cast upon the tapestry, or the flickering pale
-reflection of the moonbeams on the ground, as they
-struggle through the trembling leaves. My thoughts
-now reverted to the ceremonies we had come to
-witness, and some perplexing fancies, in spite of
-resolution, stole upon me. First, the brief acquaintance
-of Mobilius; the knowledge that Lactantius
-was a Christian, and his increased apparent dislike
-of that form of worship, since Constantine had
-threatened to close the temples of his faith; and
-Lactantius had expressed a hope it might be so,
-and the fact that there was, unquestionably, a connection
-between Mobilius and some of the priests.
-But again I thought could he be so base as to
-delude and betray those who had reposed such confidence,
-and would not his fears prevent, if he even
-would, because of the certainty of detection? While
-these reflections were flashing through my mind,
-the soft mingling of many voices swelling into the
-full pitch of harmony, and then sinking and dying
-as if wafted away upon the wings of the wind,
-broke the spell, and aroused my attention. Such
-clear, rich, enrapturing melody, I never heard, even
-surpassing that which floated from the shores of
-Cyprus; and a thrill of pain ran through my veins
-as it suddenly ceased, just as if you were to dash a
-harp into pieces in the midst of its sweetest outpourings.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“What means this?” I whispered, but a low
-murmur from Mobilius brought me to instant silence.
-Directly I heard a silvery ringing voice
-swell forth a chaunting note, and all the voices
-fell in one by one, with sweet and heavenly accord,
-until the lofty temple echoed and re-echoed with
-the sounds.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The great door then sprang asunder—without
-the jarring of a hinge—by some imperceptible
-agency, revealing in magnificent array, numerous
-ranks of priests, clothed in vestments of the costliest
-dyes, and walking to the sound of instruments,
-with measured tread, in glittering procession. Some
-bore many of the symbols of their faith—such as
-the heifer’s head—the crescent, the golden bull—some
-ears of corn, others silver torches, when
-ascending the altar steps, they lit them at its fires,
-which threw into still brighter effulgence, the dazzling
-ornaments of the priests, and all the solemn
-pageants. This was, as Mobilius whispered, the
-splendid ceremonial which precedes the great sacrifice.
-Now came a bewildering and elaborate observance
-of the usual ceremonies, but so numerous
-and complicated, that it were tedious to recount
-them, if I even could.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>After a little the music was again heard, both
-of instruments and voices, swelling, blending, and
-pouring forth the same entrancing harmonies. The
-priests, in three rows, circling round the altar, sent
-up a swelling chaunt, and in a moment, as it were,
-with the quickness of lightning, three bright fires
-sprang from the different portions of the altar-top,
-so brilliant, as that for many seconds, I was not
-able to discern a vestige of what I had just seen.
-At this, Mobilius, taking us by the hand, said, “we
-must depart,” and led us by a different route from
-that through which we entered. At one place, in
-suddenly opening the gate, at the end of a long
-passage, I was startled by a flood of light, illuminating
-a colonnade, which seemed to lead into a subterraneous
-passage, plainly connected with another
-temple. We shortly reached the great door itself,
-and glided through the portico, seemingly unobserved,
-though I doubt not it was guarded by some
-unseen janitor. We now emerged into the open
-air, and hurried rapidly on. Upon turning to take
-a parting glance at the temple, my eye was riveted
-in deep and reverential admiration. The moon
-was at a towering height, and shone down clear and
-silvery. Not a cloud spotted the heavens, nor the
-bright-eyed stars, that like watch-lights, palely burnt
-around her. No sound disturbed the silence of the
-night, except the faintly dying note of a trumpet, as
-it softly echoed from some far, far distant battlement,
-or the rattling of some chariot wheels in its
-progress homeward, from the banquet of the wealthy
-Heliopolitan, which lingered for a moment on the
-ear, then was lost forever.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The lights upon the temple paled away in the
-eternal brightness of the queen of night, throwing
-the portico in bold relief, as if it were covered with
-a mantle of snow, and casting its deep recesses into
-the shades of midnight. Beside the temple rose a
-grove, bathed in a silvery flood of light, and the
-tall obelisks, which being but faintly visible among
-the foliage, stood like spectres, and upon steady
-contemplation, appeared to stir from the place of
-their foundation, such is the power of fancy.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I turned; my companions were gone. They had
-passed on unheeded, and I wandered as I best could
-toward the mansion of Septimus.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The gorgeous streets of this great city, lined, as
-they were, with marble palaces and temples, and
-thronged but a few hours since with the gay, the
-beautiful maiden of Heliopolis, or the busy wayfarer,
-were now as silent as the place of tombs.
-The cold beams of the pale moon shone still undimmed
-and uninterrupted, save here and there by
-a projecting shade or darkling grove, whose loftiest
-boughs closely interweaving, reared a verdant arch,
-revealing now and then through the thick foliage,
-the night’s illumined heaven, and its cold azure
-depths. So I wandered, cheered at intervals by
-the soft murmur of the fountains among the trees,
-whose waters sparkled in the moonbeams.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>This grove was ornamented with statues, and
-verily, I believe, of all the Gods in the Pantheon,
-among which was Mars, whose highly polished
-shield shone like another moon.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Now completely lost, I found myself near one of
-the city gates, and hearing an approaching footstep,
-I recognised a citizen, some gay Heliopolitan, I
-supposed, returning from a midnight banquet.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Can you tell me,” I enquired, “in what direction
-lies the house of Septimus?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Oh! readily,” he answered, “I will go with
-you, for it stands nearly in my path. I perceive,
-my friend, you are a stranger, and we dare not
-break our ancient rule of friendship.” Thanking
-him for his kindness, we proceeded forward, and I
-found him a communicative and entertaining companion.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Pray,” said I, “what noble edifice is that
-immediately before us, now silvered by the moon?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“That is the temple of fortune, erected many
-years ago, after some signal benefit had fallen on
-the city, through the beneficence of the Gods. It
-is the work of the lamented Epamenides, his first,
-his last design,” and he appeared much affected by
-the reflection. He continued, “behold the proportions.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I no longer doubted but that my friend was
-some young architect, enthusiastic in his profession,
-and not being able to understand his learned
-phrases, endeavored to divert the conversation.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“In what you say I cordially concur, but what
-is fame and fortune since but a few lustres must
-snatch us from their enjoyment, though they be the
-highest and the brightest which the generosity and
-admiration of our countrymen can award? Man
-toils much ere he reaps, so that if the harvest is not
-scanty it is ours for the enjoyment of but a brief
-space.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You do not draw your conclusion,” said he,
-“after the manner of the model of all that is great
-in reason and philosophy. Were the votary to hold
-such doctrines as these, he would never reach the
-fires, however ardently he might fix his gaze upon
-them; he would never attain the consummation of
-his burning wishes. But he would reason after this
-manner—toil would be well were the goal worth
-the reaching. So mark the inconsistency.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Although not convinced, I was compelled, forsaking
-my former conjecture, to conclude that the
-stranger was some eminent philosopher of Heliopolis,
-so ingeniously did he argue. Though I
-thought it could not be of so severe a school as
-some sternly avow.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Walking a little, we met a man in the agonies
-of a strange sickness. Here I fancied will be
-afforded an opportunity of testing the truth of my
-conjecture—for philosophers, especially those of
-the present day, are ever ready to prescribe both
-for afflictions of body and of mind precepts which
-they are most rarely in the habit of practising themselves.
-But I was again mistaken, for, taking the
-sick man by the hand, he examined his pulse, and
-closely scrutinised his features, upon this abstracting
-a small casket, containing medicines, from his
-robes, he administered a portion, and its good effects
-were wonderful. All conjecture was now put to
-flight; for I at once decided that my new friend
-was a disciple of Hippocrates.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>How fruitless is all surmise, for he afterward informed
-me he was a member of the forum, and held
-an office under the emperor. This brought me to
-the widely spreading portal of Septimus—which
-almost seemed to welcome me after my absence.
-I met Lactantius pacing to and fro the hall with
-Mobilius, as if theirs had been an intimacy of
-months. “Ah!” said the latter, “we were about
-sallying out for you—but yet knew it would prove
-of no avail in such a city as this.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Welcome,” exclaimed Lactantius, “I was
-anxious on your account. How came you to
-leave us?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I did not leave you—it was you who left me—doubtless
-in the heat of controversy upon the Chaldean
-mysteries.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I understand your meaning, Servilius,” said he,
-smiling, “but how came you here at all; you are
-not acquainted with the streets of Baalbec, especially
-by moonlight?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Through the kindness,” I replied, “of Apicius.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“You are fortunate,” ejaculated Mobilius, “and
-should deposite your offering to-morrow in the temple
-of fortune, as is the custom here. He is the
-first of statesmen and advocates; an accomplished
-orator, and a very generous and learned citizen.
-If he pressed you to visit him at his palace, you
-are still more fortunate.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“And so he did,” I rejoined.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It proved as Mobilius predicted, for I did not
-meet a kinder or more noble-hearted friend than
-this same Heliopolitan.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“As it is late,” observed Lactantius, “we will
-seek our couches, and to-morrow,” archly glancing
-at Mobilius, “we may examine the Egyptian mysteries.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But I must draw to a conclusion, least I should
-sketch this epistle to a tedious length. I bid you
-an affectionate</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:right;margin-right:2em;margin-top:1em;margin-bottom:1em;'>Farewell.</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;'>* &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;* &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk118'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='dest'></a>THE SOUL’S DESTINY.</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. M. S. B. DANA.</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'><span class='sc'>And</span> oh! the soul! she saw in visions bright,</p>
-<p class='line0'>The veil withdrawn which hides the world of light,</p>
-<p class='line0'>With eye of faith she gazed in tearful joy,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And they were there! her husband and her boy!</p>
-<p class='line0'>Sweet hope of Heaven! thou art a healing balm—</p>
-<p class='line0'>If storms arise thy deep rich holy calm</p>
-<p class='line0'>Comes with a spirit influence to the breast,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And to the weary mourner whispers “rest!”</p>
-<p class='line0'>Rest—for the fondly loved, the early dead!</p>
-<p class='line0'>Rest—for the longing spirit Heavenward fled!</p>
-<p class='line0'>Rest—from a tiresome path in weakness trod!</p>
-<p class='line0'>Rest—in the bosom of the Saviour, God!</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<hr class='tbk119'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='sacc'></a>THE SACCHARINEOUS PHILOSOPHY.</h1></div>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1.5em;'>“Her ‘prentice han’ she try’d on man, and then she made the <span class='it'>Lasses</span> O.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>Gentle</span> reader—art thou fond of molasses? Not
-only molasses in its simple state, but in its various
-compounds? If thou art not I pity thee. Thy
-taste relishes not that which would otherwise be a
-source of inexpressible pleasure. Eatables may be
-divided into the two great classes of the sweet and
-the sour. From the full enjoyment of at least one-half
-then of the good things of life (and that the
-better half) art thou deprived. Again I pity thee.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But some may say, that although not lovers of
-molasses or sugar, (as I shall consider them the
-same in this essay,) yet they are really very fond of
-many sweet things. They like a portion of the
-saccharine, though not fond of the gross and clogged
-sweetness of molasses. Let such, however, think
-not of escaping in this manner. What! like a
-thing in part and not in fulness—like the rose-bud
-and not the open rose—like an amiable and not a
-perfectly angelic being—like five dollars and not five
-hundred—like middling and not good health—like
-imperfect and not perfect happiness—like strawberries
-and cream, and not sugar or molasses—I
-tell thee, man, woman, or child—Caucasian, African,
-or Malay, thou art crazy, bewitched, or tasteless.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>How shall I describe the delicious sensations
-which the saccharine matter imparts to the outward
-man? Alike in fruit, and flower, and honey-comb
-most gratefully apparent. And thou, ice-cream!
-who has so often diffused throughout the body of
-this “me,” a most delicious coolness, what wouldst
-thou be without that essence, whose merits I am
-exalting? Insipid and unmeaning, like unto a
-flower without color or fragrance.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Oh! how well can I remember the time, when,
-released from school, I hastened home, and, sitting
-on the kitchen door-sill, enjoyed my bread and molasses.
-I never felt more thankful than when, plate
-in hand, and a huge slice of the wheat loaf in reserve,
-the preparatory pause was made “according
-to the good order used among friends.” And then,
-also the “switchel,” that nutritious and cooling
-drink, (molasses and water, with a <span class='it'>little</span> vinegar,)
-with which our revolutionary fathers quenched their
-thirst, when rooting up their ditch on old Bunker.
-Even the horrid tales told me in childhood by the
-pestered servants, of thumbs, and fingers, and bloody
-streaks, the evidence of cruel treatment in the Indian
-isles, turned not the edge of my keen desire.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But I shall no longer occupy paper with the
-advocacy of the merely sensual claims of molasses.
-It has other and higher demands upon your notice.
-The author of this lately perused, with pleasure,
-that most important work upon “The Philosophy
-of Clothes,” by Thomas Carlyle. It suggested an
-interesting train of thoughts upon the subject before
-us. Molasses, and its kindred sweets are the well
-fitting garments of the spirit of love and purity.
-Here then we have an unfailing index by which to
-judge of the characters of our fellow men. Herein
-is contained the germ of our new and spiritual
-philosophy.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Charles Lamb in his “Elia,” quotes and endorses
-the sentiment of one of his friends: “that no man
-be entirely reprobate who is fond of apple-dumplings.”
-This I grant to be true. He did not,
-however, remember that both the apples and the
-dumplings contain a portion of saccharine matter;
-and this accounts <span class='it'>partly</span> for the dislike felt toward
-them by a reprobate spirit. And again—who ever
-heard of eating apple-dumplings without sugar or
-molasses? I therefore bring Charles Lamb, who,
-although he did not perceive the great <span class='it'>principle</span>
-coiled up in this succulent eatable, has taken notice
-of the above interesting <span class='it'>fact</span>, as a witness to the
-truth of my theory.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>When do we find that the love of all sweet things
-most commonly prevails? In youth undoubtedly.
-When the mind is pure, free from worldly guile,
-innocent, and <span class='it'>lamb</span>-like. When the fresh and untainted
-spirit drinks eagerly and deeply at the fount
-of truth, and its type or representative on earth
-(according to Swedenborg) pure water. Then,
-sugar-plumes are a delight—ginger-bread a blessing—molasses
-candy, especially when rolled and
-pulled out into sticks, <span class='it'>bright</span> or <span class='it'>dull</span> yellow, according
-to the cleanliness of the maker’s hands, “the
-staff of life.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The child becomes a man. He grows selfish and
-proud. He loses his relish for innocent enjoyments,
-and with it his taste for molasses. The spirit of
-love becomes impregnated with impure desires, and
-his outward man changes accordingly. The saccharine
-matter no longer suits him in its natural
-state—it must be fermented, and gases added, and
-gases deducted, to correspond with the altered soul.
-What a beautiful emblem is this change of saccharine
-substance to the poisonous liquor, of the transition
-state of the immortal in man. First the
-spirit as in childhood, pure and gentle, like the
-sweet juice of the grape. Then youth, with its
-noble and generous bearing, comparable to the
-result of the first fermentation. Manhood comes
-on, and with it the fermentation proceeds. Soon
-the soul is agitated with innumerable gases—and
-from their bubblings, and combinations, and effervescence,
-it comes forth a new creature. Well
-satisfied are most if they go no farther than this,
-but succeed in calming the troubled elements at this
-second fermentation. While some, unable to arrest
-their progress, plunge into the third and woful state;
-from which, if they succeed in coming out, they
-appear all soured, and be-vinegared, your universal
-fault-finders and found-fault-with. Too many, alas!
-emerge not even at this third gate, but dash recklessly
-into the fourth, the last and worst, and hope-decaying
-state—and when dragged through it, are
-cast out with the blessed feelings of childhood putrified—the
-flesh rotted off, and exposing the then
-loathsome skeleton of the soul, the never to be
-destroyed framework of an eternal nature.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>How beautiful also the resemblance in another
-sense. Wherever you meet the poison fire, under
-whatever name it may assume, whether brandy, gin,
-whiskey, wine, cider, or beer, as you are confident
-that the innocent sugar must have been its basis;
-so in whatever form you meet vice in the human
-heart, you may be also assured, that there was, and
-perhaps is yet, in that heart a stronger or weaker
-basis of God-like love.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Although the good, spiritually, is to be considered
-the cause of the liking for the saccharineous, yet
-they are to some extent mutually creative. The
-outward may appeal so strongly as even to produce
-the inward. “Hang up a coat in the highway, and
-will it not soon find a body to fill it?” Who has
-not often observed the child when requested by its
-parents to swallow the bitter dose of (so called)
-medicine? What a struggle between duty and disgust!
-What measures are then taken by the wise
-parent in order that the right may conquer? How
-is the virtuous appealed to and strengthened? One
-single lump of sugar, perhaps not larger than a
-hickory nut decides the question. Duty prevails.
-How shall we account for such things without
-adopting a similar doctrine to that which I have
-thus partly illustrated?</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Reader, thou wilt believe or not, as thou choosest.
-But before this is dismissed as unworthy, for thy
-own sake, examine facts. Find among thy acquaintances,
-that man, sullen, and morose, and cruel, who
-loves molasses. Understand me—<span class='it'>loves</span> molasses—not
-who sometimes eats it, but who clings to it with
-a passionate devotion—who prefers it to the best
-pie ever baked, apple, mince, peach, or cranberry,—as
-I do. If thou canst find such a being—thou
-thinkest I’ll recant? Not I. Such a man is an
-anomaly, a monster, deserves not to live—and if he
-knows what a beautiful theory he is practically
-marring, and has the least spark of generosity
-within him, is willing to die. If he wont die I care
-not,—he’s only an exception, and “proves the truth
-of the general rule,” as all metaphysicians will tell
-thee.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>If it were needful I could skip from individuals
-to nations—could prove the truth of my doctrines
-by referring to the Irish with their potatoes, buttermilk,
-and whiskey—the Hindoo and his rice—the
-West Indian slave with his patient endurance, the
-result of his frequent sucking at the juicy cane.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But why multiply proof? Why refer to the bee
-with his industrious habits, caused by living entirely
-upon honey—the bear with his good nature, hugging
-you, even when in anger, to his bosom, how
-he also likes sweet things—the humming-bird, with
-its love for the sweets of flowers—the—but why
-instance more?</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Oh! ye wise, give ear while I call your attention
-to this new philosophy, which I name saccharine,
-and not transcendental. Parents, guardians, physicians,
-nurses,—“they that have ears to hear let
-them hear.”</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:right;margin-right:3em;margin-top:0.5em;'><span class='sc'>Ella.</span></p>
-
-<hr class='tbk120'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='wint'></a>WINTER.</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. W. FORNEY.</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'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;<span class='sc'>The</span> leaf hath fallen!</p>
-<p class='line0'>E’en the withered leaf; and from the trees</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Hath faded Nature’s robe of living green;</p>
-<p class='line0'>While, thro’ their naked boughs the wintry breeze,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Makes mournful music o’er the vanished scene—</p>
-<p class='line0'>The funeral requiem of those blushing flowers,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;That bloomed and flaunted in the sunny air,</p>
-<p class='line0'>When the coy spring-time and her laughing hours,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The graceful monarchs of the season were.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;The song is hushed!</p>
-<p class='line0'>And gone those warblers for a softer clime,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Whose morning welcome, and whose evening hymn</p>
-<p class='line0'>Made the gay summer but a trysting time,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And prayerful music poured aloft to Him!</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>No more they usher, with their mellow song,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The bright-eyed morning beaming through the cloud—</p>
-<p class='line0'>Where erst they met, in bright melodious throng,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Now roars the tempest in its wrath aloud.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;The brook is frozen!</p>
-<p class='line0'>The babbling streamlet sparkles now no more</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;In the full glory of the sun’s warm beam;</p>
-<p class='line0'>The ice-king’s sceptre has been wafted o’er,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And sleep is brooding on the modest stream.</p>
-<p class='line0'>There are no flowers on its frozen side—</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The sun shines only with a cheerless glance:</p>
-<p class='line0'>Still is its melody; and the valley’s pride,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Is calm as Beauty in a pleasing trance.</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span style='font-size:smaller'>Lancaster, Pa. January, 1841.</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr class='tbk121'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='conf'></a>THE CONFESSIONS OF A MISER.</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'><span class='sc'>Part I.</span></h2>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>One</span> who dothe hymself professe to be the teller of a hystorye, must often be contente to doe that whych
-in annye other character he would be ashamed to owne to. He must unryddle thoughts, telle tales, spake of
-factes done pryrilye and not for worldlye showe.</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:right;margin-right:2em;'><span class='it'>A Legende of the Monasterye of Lylis.</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>When</span> life ceases to afford us gratification, we
-not unfrequently take a strange delight in reviewing
-and pondering over the misdeeds of the past, and
-in anticipating the weird and desolate future. This
-revelling in the consequences of our own depravity;
-this spirit of darkness and recklessness; this tendency
-to a defiance of all moral and religious consolation—when
-morality and religion no longer
-dwell within us—may be termed the wreck of
-hope, and life, and salvation; for as the mariner,
-engulphed by the tempest, faces death in boisterous
-revelry, so we seek to riot in our own wickedness,
-and plunge into perdition, rejoicing in the sin, and
-reckless of its consequences.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Even while I write, the recollection of deeds
-which might well cause the blood to curdle and
-the flesh to crawl, thrills me with an awful and
-savage delight. The open gates of hell are ready
-to receive me, but I rejoice in anticipating the hour
-of eternal ruin!</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I am a native of Italy—a Venitian by birth; a
-wanderer by choice. During the political disturbances
-under the doge, Paolo Reniers, I obtained
-an office of considerable value; by which I was
-enabled to enjoy a handsome annuity. For some
-time the French forces, commanded by Bonaparte,
-had been endeavoring to take possession of Verona;
-and had already made some attempts on Venice;
-but these eruptions were if any thing the
-means of my promotion. Before the downfall of
-my patron, I acquired a fortune which placed me
-on a footing with the patricians of the day. Had
-heaven so ordained it, I might then have retired to
-my villa, and in peace and seclusion enjoyed the
-fruits of my industry; but the seeds of avarice were
-sown—I was destined to reap their harvest. The
-intrigues of political life were not sufficiently disgusting
-to deter me from applying for employment
-under the government, to the successor of Reniers.
-That wary craft which had rendered me so indispensable
-to this corrupt and imbecile monarch, was
-not overlooked by Lugi Manini; for in a country
-where duplicity is the chief point, in the education
-of individuals, to whom the official authority is
-entrusted; and where art and cunning are so universal
-as to render every man a match for his
-fellow, superiority of this kind is regarded with
-peculiar veneration.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The satellites who swarmed about the court of
-Manini, were not slow in betraying their jealousy
-at the preference with which he regarded me; but
-where jealousy exists there is dissention; and even
-among my enemies I had my partisans. The
-rancor of political strife rendered me fierce and
-haughty; and few dared to avow their hostility in
-my presence. Hardened in dissimulation, I could
-at once assume the gentlest tones of friendship, or
-the most cutting sarcasm, and the coldest frown of
-dignity. Increase of influence gradually compelled
-those who at first resorted to the basest methods
-for my overthrow, to relinquish their attempts, and
-acquiesce in my measures.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Power, however, was not my chimera. I had
-contracted an undying thirst for riches. I longed
-to regard myself as the master of millions. The
-very clink of gold was sweeter to me than the
-applause of an enraptured populace. Daily—hourly—my
-thoughts were concentrated on the
-darling object of my ambition. That cold and
-stern temperament, which, in my political schemes,
-had been fostered by every act of diplomacy, and
-every duty of my office, rendered me callous to all
-worldly allurements, save the desire of personal
-emolument.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Constantly moving in the gaudy circles of the
-court, I was at once disgusted with the prodigal
-splendor of every thing around me, and incited to
-aspire for the most exalted degree of opulence.
-Those whose power was greater than mine, I
-merely looked upon as instruments by which the
-great object of my life was to be effected. Even
-Manini himself I did not consider in any other
-light than as one ultimately to be the means of my
-success. Deceit in the service of others had
-made me too wary a courtier not to cloak my
-designs in professions of the most disinterested
-friendship toward him who was already the tool of
-my machinations.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The schemes were too well concerted to fail.
-A few years of untiring zeal found the doge still
-nominally my patron, but in reality my minion.
-Wealth had poured in upon me. No longer was
-the desire of riches a chimera; no longer had I to
-live in feverish and dreamy suspense; no longer
-was I fortune’s votary.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Though in the prime of life, I too, passionately
-loved the possession of my gold, to violate in my
-enjoyment the strictest rules of economy. I gambled—but
-that was my business. I drank—but the
-excitement was necessary to sustain my vital principle.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Having adhered to my victim till he was weak and
-worthless, I abandoned him for more lucrative game.
-I sought out the haunts of the young and inexperienced.
-I became a kind of polite sharper; for
-though I generally gambled for the riches of my
-victims, I so managed as to secure the spoils in defiance
-of ill-fortune.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We all know that the peculiar vices of a man’s
-character increase in extent as his evil course of
-life is persisted in; even when that course is not
-more intrinsically depraved by continuance. It was
-the case with me. I did not actually rob; I did
-not murder; I committed no more heinous crime
-than that of swindling or gambling; and yet every
-day I became a worse and worse black-hearted
-man.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Before this epoch in my career had drawn to a close,
-I became acquainted with the daughter of a Venitian
-banker. She was not beautiful; she was not accomplished;
-she was not amiable—but she was rich. At
-this time, I too, was rich. Both fortunes united would
-make a brilliant coalescence. I pressed my suit,
-and succeeded. The foolish girl did not discover
-till too late, that I despised herself, though I adored
-her fortune. My wealth was now immense; and
-it might be supposed that I was satisfied; but my
-thirst for accumulation was only excited by what I
-had already acquired. Had I been possessed of the
-world’s wealth, I am pursuaded I would have wept,
-like Alexander, because there was nothing left to
-satisfy my desires.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>That fortunate tissue of events which had hitherto
-marked my career, was destined to be speedily
-reversed. In Venice there lived at this time an individual,
-who, if he had not my boldness of purpose
-and capacity for scheming, was at least my
-equal in shrewdness and avarice. This person was
-called Carlo Dolci—a nomenclature which he
-boasted as certain evidence that he was descended
-from the great painter of that name. Dolci met
-me at my accustomed resort—one of those hells with
-which Venice then abounded. His appearance was
-peculiarly forbidding; but I fancied I had seen too
-much of the world to be prejudiced by mere outward
-show. We were introduced by a mutual
-friend. I found that my new acquaintance was a
-man of some knowledge, and of polished and persuasive
-manners. His characteristic trait was extreme
-cunning; nor did his grey, twinkling eye and
-piercing glance contradict what his manners and
-language bespoke.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>One topic led to another. We spoke of games.
-Dolci with his infernal art, flattered me out of all
-prudence, by declaring he had heard so much of
-my skill at play that he was determined to avoid
-strife in such an accomplished quarter. Fired with
-a desire to verify his words, I immediately challenged
-him. We began with moderate stakes, and
-I won. We doubled, and I still won. We continued
-to increase the stakes till they amounted to
-an immense sum. Both were equally excited; but
-my good fortune did not yet leave me. Dolci, I
-knew, was rich; and I was determined to fleece
-him. I doubled the largest stakes we had yet contended
-for. Dolci was the winner. Maddened at
-such an unusual reverse, I dared him to contend—fortune
-against fortune! Each now staked his entire
-wealth. It was to be riches or poverty to me.
-The swollen veins stood out on my forehead. A
-cold perspiration teemed from the brow of Carlo
-Dolci. His teeth were clenched; his hair wild and
-matted—his eye unusually haggard. The dice were
-thrown. I gasped for breath. A dimness came
-over my eyes. With a dreadful effort I strained
-them to catch a glimpse of my fate. Merciful
-God! I had lost—I was a beggar!</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>With a grim smile, Dolci grasped the stakes. I
-rushed from the hell, a frenzied wretch. A mocking
-laugh was borne after me; and I knew no more.
-For several days I was a raving maniac. When I
-recovered my reason, I found myself stretched on
-a pallet in my own house. My wife stood by, with
-disgust and hatred pictured in her countenance.
-Her first words were those of contumely and reproach.
-She did not make any allowance for my
-situation; she reflected not that it was the province
-of the female to forgive error, and to administer
-consolation. I married her for her money; that
-was gone, and I now was to feel all the miseries
-of my choice.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The only solace to my afflictions, was a little
-daughter about eight years old, but uncommonly
-mature both mentally and physically. She attended
-me with untiring assiduity; she lifted the cup to my
-lips; she soothed with her silvery tones the agony
-of my mind; she sang for me her plaintive airs;
-she bathed my burning temples; she prayed for me—she
-wept for me—she was every way the beau ideal
-of innocence and affection.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Father,” she would say, “why do you clench
-your hands—why do you rave of ruin and beggary?
-We shall all go to work when you recover; and
-we shall earn more money and be very happy.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Alas poor Valeria! she little knew the loss I had
-sustained. It was not the loss of luxury for that I
-never enjoyed; it was not the loss of domestic peace—for
-I was a stranger to it; it was not the loss of
-reputation, for I cared nothing about it; but it was
-the loss of <span style='font-size:smaller'>MONEY</span>—of that which gave the only zest
-and pleasure to my life.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>One mortification was spared us in our beggary.
-No splendid edifice was to be abandoned—no luxurious
-equipage to be sold—no servants to be dismissed—no
-fine costumes to be sacrificed—no sensitive
-feelings to be wounded by a change from affluence to
-penury and want; our condition remained unaltered.
-While blessed with riches I was too careful of them
-to be guilty of extravagance. My avarice, not my
-prodigality, was my ruin. I did not gamble for the
-pleasure of the game, but from sheer desire to accumulate
-immense sums of money. I then conducted
-my affairs on a grand scale. Wealth poured in on
-me not by degrees, but in floods. Now, however,
-the time arrived when I was doomed to begin a new
-career under new auspices. I had no Reniero or
-Manini to plunder by a few acts of political sagacity.
-I had no immense states to retrieve my want of
-luck with Carlo Dolci. To toil up the rugged path—to
-exert my humble acquirement—to trade—to
-barter—to beg—were now the only means in my
-power to make amends for want of prudence.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Having settled my wife and daughter in a small
-house, I procured, partly on credit and partly with
-what little was left, a meagre stock of jewelry, with
-which I sallied out as a travelling pedlar. By
-adopting this course of life I sacrificed no fine feelings;
-I never was proud of any thing except of my
-riches. I considered not that because I had wielded
-an intriguing pen in the great contest between Bonaparte
-and Lugi Manini, my dignity would in any
-degree be lessened by honest exertions for the retrieval
-of my fortune.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The succeeding epoch in my career may be
-passed over. To detail the vicissitudes of my wandering
-life—to dwell upon the manifold reverses of
-fortune—to trace succinctly the gradual and disheartening
-manner in which I acquired money—and
-to portray the eagerness—the infantile delight
-with which I grasped it and hoarded it to my bosom—would
-be alike futile and uninteresting.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In struggling between penury and avarice, the
-autumn of my life passed away. The misery of
-connubial contention, I am persuaded, whitened the
-hair of my head, even before my winter had blasted
-it with its frosts; but heaven ordained it that my
-declining age should not be harassed by the persecutions
-of her with whom I had never known an
-hour of true happiness. She died in a fit of madness—a
-malady to which her passionate and ungovernable
-temper had frequently subjected her. It
-would be adding hypocrisy to my manifold sins to
-say that I regretted this instance of divine dispensation.
-I still had a companion—differently, but no
-less intimately dependent on me for her support and
-protection. This was my daughter, who had attained
-her eighteenth year.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Valeria was beautiful—extremely beautiful. I
-had roamed in the Florentine and Venitian Vatican;
-I had studied, if not with the eye of an artist,
-at least with the eye of an ardent admirer, the most
-exquisite productions of Georgione, Titian, Correggio,
-and Veronese; I had dwelt in ecstacy on the
-master-works of every school from the Appellean
-and Protogenean, to the Lombard, the Bolognese,
-the Carraci, and the Rasain; but I had never seen
-any thing either ideal or substantial, so exquisitely
-symmetrical—so etherially chiselled in every feature—so
-thoroughly the impersonation of angelic
-beauty and sweetness, as Valeria. I speak it with
-a father’s pride; I may be partial, but I believe I
-am sincere. The dark, luxuriant hair—the languishing
-eye—the finely rounded arm—the faultless
-figure bespoke Italian blood; and that too of a
-gentle quality; for though I claim no distinction, I
-am myself of noble descent.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In Valeria, then, I saw my future fortune. I
-had sufficient to support life; but I desired wealth.
-To sell my daughter to the best advantage was
-now the sole and engrossing subject of my thoughts.
-I cared not whether I gained her an honorable alliance
-or not; money, not titular distinction, was
-the object for which I determined she should be
-sacrificed.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There lived in Venice, at this time, a Neapolitan
-nobleman, of agreeable and accomplished manners,
-and fine fortune, named Don Ferdinand Razzina,
-upon whom I had long looked as the instrument
-by which my schemes were to be consummated.
-Razzina was young and volatile. His imprudence
-rendered him easily subservient to my machinations.
-By the most consummate art I managed that he
-should get a glimpse at Valeria. This proved sufficient
-stimulus to an ardent imagination, to fire him
-with the most extravagant notions of her beauty.
-He had barely seen her as a flitting shadow: that
-shadow surpassed to him in loveliness the beau
-ideal of his airiest dreams. I knew too much of
-the human heart not to concert my measures on
-the fact that mystery is the food of love; and in a
-very short time Don Ferdinand was supplicating at
-my feet for information concerning the fairy vision
-he had seen.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Nothing,” said he, “shall be spared in remuneration
-for your services. I love her. I shall never
-love another. My peace and happiness for ever
-more depend on her. If you respect the passions
-common to humanity; if you are not devoid of
-every feeling of sympathy; if you value your own
-welfare, and my peace of mind—procure me an
-interview!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Schooled in cunning, I treated the matter with
-indifference; I dwelt on other themes—but finding
-Don Ferdinand deaf to aught, save the engrossing
-object of his thoughts, I consented to introduce
-him, on an enormous advance, to my daughter.
-He seemed much surprised at this declaration; for
-he had fancied—from what cause I know not—that
-Valeria was my protege, and the unfortunate
-pledge of some noble amour. In a moment the
-truth of my schemes burst upon him. He was
-young—ardent—impetuous—but he neither wanted
-penetration nor humanity.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Wretch!” he cried, with all the indignant
-fervor of one unaccustomed to such unnatural cupidity—“you
-would sell your daughter’s honor!—you
-would ruin her for your own emolument!”
-He paused in agitation for some moments, during
-which I maintained a grim and stony smile—then
-continued, “but your villainy is nothing to me. I
-shall not upbraid you for what turns to my own
-advantage. Here is the sum. Recollect, however,
-<span class='it'>we perfectly understand each other as to the terms</span>.”
-I answered merely by a leering nod of the head.
-Razzina departed—promising to call on the ensuing
-evening.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>That short but active interview had laid bare the
-character of the noble prodigal. He was evidently
-gifted with no common intellect. He had seen
-little of the world; so that whatever sagacity he
-had was inherent. Much good was mixed with
-the evil which formed his prominent traits. He
-was young and passionate; but he had no small
-share of the milk and honey of human kindness.
-His opinions respecting my course I regarded
-with contempt. I had studied too deeply
-the mysteries of human nature to be baulked in
-my designs by a beardless and soft-hearted youth.
-I knew that the bait was too well administered to
-be rejected.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Returning to a miserable garret in which I
-always slept to avoid the expense of furnishing
-the lower part of the house, and also to enjoy the
-solitude, I flung myself on a pallet, and spread the
-gold on the floor.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A filthy lamp threw a sickly and flickering light
-on every thing around. The wretched place was
-strewn with rubbish and dirt; here and there lay a
-broken stool, or the remains of a chair; in the
-centre stood a greasy and ricketty table, and hung
-up in confusion, on the walls, were battered tin-cups—a
-few platters—a spoutless coffee-pot—and
-sundry tattered habiliments.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>I glanced around me with a smile of sinister
-meaning. I piled up the gold—threw it down
-again—and scattered it about, and grasped it once
-more with childish eagerness. Then, as if fearful
-of detection, I hid it, fervently praying that the
-Almighty would watch over, and preserve it.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was now necessary that my daughter should
-become acquainted with part of my designs; and I
-summoned her. In a moment she was at my feet.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Valeria—” and as I addressed her, I endeavored
-to modulate my voice into tones as affectionate
-and as soothing as possible—“Valeria, we
-are very poor—God knows we are.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Yes; but father why speak of it now? We
-are as well off as most people, and I am sure we
-need no luxuries.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“My child, you know not our poverty. You
-see me now a decrepid and palsied old man. I am
-unable to make a living; and henceforth on you I
-must depend.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I shall cheerfully do what I am able, father.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I know it my child—I know it; but your utmost
-exertions cannot save us from starvation,
-unless properly directed. Valeria, listen to me. I
-ask you as a father will you obey my commands?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“As long as they are bounded by reason and
-virtue, I shall. I have always obeyed you—I am
-not disobedient, I sincerely believe.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Valeria, can you love?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I can. I <span class='it'>do</span> love.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Ha! whom do you love?”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I love you, my father—and—”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Speak!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“I love Marco da Vinci—I never intended to
-deny it.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In a frenzy of rage and astonishment, I started
-to my feet, and stood for some moments like one
-transfixed. My lips were white; my mouth foamed;
-my cheek was blanched; my eye fiery and distorted;
-and my whole frame convulsed with passion.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“God’s curse be on you!” I shrieked, shaking
-my clenched hand in the face of the terrified girl—“God’s
-curse be on you, for the declaration. <span class='it'>You</span>
-<span class='it'>love Marco da Vinci?</span> May a father’s ban fall like
-the flames of perdition on you! May the heart
-that you so foolishly bestowed, be blighted and
-withered in its bloom! May the avenging hosts
-gather round you at your death-bed; and taunt you,
-and riot in your agony!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Father! Father! O, cease those horrible words!
-you will drive me mad!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“No,” I replied, in a stern but more softened
-tone, “I shall not drive you mad, Valeria; but I
-have news that will make you feel as if madness
-would be a blessing. <span class='it'>You are sold.</span> Here is the
-money”—and I drew forth the gold I had received
-from Don Ferdinand. “Yes, to-morrow you will
-be the mistress of Don Ferdinand Razzina.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Never!—so help me God!” cried Valeria, in a
-voice so calm and determined, that I feared for the
-success of my schemes; “death—aye, a thousand
-deaths before dishonor!”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“We shall see,” I replied, with a grim smile.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>We shall!</span>” said Valeria, retiring; and in tones
-so deep and ominous that I shuddered. She repeated,
-“<span class='it'>we shall!</span>”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Hitherto I have devoted my pen almost exclusively
-to the narrative of my own confessions. I
-must now diverge a little to introduce the reader
-to a character, of whom nothing has yet been
-mentioned except his name.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Marco da Vinci was a young painter, of extraordinary
-talents, and great mental accomplishments.
-He was descended from a noble house; and might
-have enjoyed the height of affluence had not misfortune
-set her seal upon him at an early age.
-Favored in an unusual degree as to his mental and
-physical capacities, he received all the care and
-cultivation that a fond father could bestow; and on
-attaining his eighteenth year few could boast a more
-vigorous mind—a more profound education, or a
-more chaste and amiable character. Thus far was
-Marco successful.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Smitten with an undying thirst for distinction, he
-resolved henceforth to abandon the quiet enjoyments
-of leisure and affluence, and dedicated himself altogether
-to the nobler calls of ambition. Alas! he
-knew not that he had yielded the substantial enjoyments
-of life for a misnomer—a chimera!</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It was the ardent hope of Da Vinci’s father, that
-the youth should, at no remote period, occupy an
-exalted station in the affairs of the government; but
-the rancor and bitterness of political life had no
-charms for the young enthusiast. Enraged and
-disappointed at the unexpected determination of his
-son, Don Ignatius da Vinci, abjured him in the
-zenith of his passion—disowned him, and left him
-an outcast and a beggar.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The ambitious Marco wended his way to Venice,
-where his talents soon attracted the attention of a
-distinguished painter. Under this individual, Da
-Vinci studied with all the devotion of an enthusiast,
-and an unfeigned lover of the art. A very short
-time was requisite to make him a finished painter.
-That pruning to rule—that softening and chastening,
-which can only be attained by painful and
-almost hopeless perseverance in most cases, were
-soon mastered by the ardent disciple.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>In the course of time, Marco da Vinci accumulated,
-by his industry, sufficient capital to begin
-business on a small scale. At first he succeeded
-beyond his expectations; but soon he found that
-novelty is the spice of patronage, and that before
-him he had every probability of sinking into oblivion,
-and of eking out his days in starvation. Too
-proud to apply for assistance to those by whom he
-had been so basely injured, he determined to submit
-to his fate with manliness and fortitude, and to
-merit, if possible, sufficient patronage to support
-him, while he should by an extraordinary effort of
-his pencil retrieve his past misfortunes.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>A premium had been offered by the Academy of
-Arts, for the best portrait of a female that could be
-placed in the gallery in time for the annual exhibition.
-Da Vinci resolved to take his model from
-nature. The fame of Valeria’s beauty was proverbial
-throughout the city; and the candidate for the
-palm of excellence, sought out our miserable tenement,
-and implored permission to have a sitting.
-Too proud of the opportunity to extend her reputation,
-I consented to the proposition. Fool! fool!
-that I was! Why could I not see the danger
-of placing this young and ardent soul in such a
-temptation? Da Vinci was young—handsome—and
-intellectual: Valeria was innocent—amiable—and
-beautiful—could they but love? Fool,
-I say, fool that I was!</p>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span style='font-size:smaller'>Louisville, Kentucky, January, 1841.</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr class='tbk122'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='fair'></a>THE FAIRY’S HOME.</h1></div>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'><span class='sc'>Our</span> home is far ’mid the greenwood trees,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Where the rose-bloom floats on the burden’d breeze,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Where the moon’s beams glance on the sleeping tide,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And the lily grows in its stainless pride.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>There, deep in our flowery homes we dwell,</p>
-<p class='line0'>In the cavern’d shades of the fairy’s cell,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Where the sound of the wavelet’s ceaseless song,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Shall glad the ear of the fairy throng.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>There calm as the blue of the “bending skies,”</p>
-<p class='line0'>Whose beauty may bless e’en fairy’s eyes;</p>
-<p class='line0'>We will pass those hours of careless glee,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Whilst the woods shall ring with our melody.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Our lamp shall be of the fire-fly’s light</p>
-<p class='line0'>That shines ’mid the gloom of the darksome night,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And led by its star-like rays we’ll roam</p>
-<p class='line0'>’Mid the scenes that grace our woodland home.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>The notes of the song-bird echo there,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And are warbled again by our sisters fair;</p>
-<p class='line0'>And the tones of each pure and gentle thing,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Are voiced in the strains the fairies sing.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Away from the cares and toils of life,</p>
-<p class='line0'>No part have we in its scenes of strife,</p>
-<p class='line0'>But calm as the sleep of the tideless sea,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Our rest in our Fairy Home shall be.</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;S. H.</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span style='font-size:smaller'>Philadelphia, January, 1841.</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr class='tbk123'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='notl'></a>NOT LOST, BUT GONE BEFORE.</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 CHARLES WEST THOMSON.</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'><span class='sc'>The</span> dead but sleep—they do not die,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;They live in mem’ry’s holy cell—</p>
-<p class='line0'>The woodland green, the summer sky</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Of them in gentle language tell.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Each scene that knew them daily speaks</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Of all their love so fond and true,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And tears that tremble on our cheeks,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;But nerve our sadness to renew.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>The grief that rent our hearts when first</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Death broke our early bond in twain,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Within our souls, by memory nurst,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Will oft times freshly burst again.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Yet why indulge unfading grief,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;For those we loved and now deplore?</p>
-<p class='line0'>Theirs is a slumber calm and brief—</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;They are “not lost, but gone before.”</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span style='font-size:smaller'>January, 1841.</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr class='tbk124'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='not'></a>NOT FOR ME! NOT FOR ME!</h1></div>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1em;'>A popular Air in the Opera of</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1em;'>CATHERINE GRAY,</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1em;'><span class='it'>AS SUNG BY MRS. WOOD</span>.</p>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1em;'>THE MUSIC COMPOSED BY M. W. BALFE.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk125'/>
-
-<p class='line' style='text-align:center;margin-bottom:1em;font-size:0.9em;'>Geo. W. Hewitt &amp; Co. No. 184 Chesnut Street, Philadelphia.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i090.jpg' alt='' id='iid-0002' style='width:75%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Not for me, not for me,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Regal halls and courtly life,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Oh! more</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i091.jpg' alt='' id='iid-0003' style='width:75%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>blest, my lot would be,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Far from ev’ry scene of strife,</p>
-<p class='line0'>From the world from all retiring,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Gladly would this heart remove,</p>
-<p class='line0'>One dear boon alone desiring</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Still to be with thee I love:</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;Still to be with thee I love.</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;2</p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Let me seek that tranquil home,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Once I knew in happier hours,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Free to wander, free to roam,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Thro’ my own lov’d peaceful bow’rs.</p>
-<p class='line0'>Not for me the world’s false pleasures,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Not for me where splendour moves,</p>
-<p class='line0'>More than these my bosom treasures,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;More than these my heart now loves,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;More than these my heart now loves.</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<hr class='tbk126'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='sports'></a>SPORTS AND PASTIMES.<br/>SHOOTING.</h1></div>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>We</span> open this month with the first of a series of
-excellent papers on Shooting, from the pen of the
-author of the paper on Angling, given in our last.
-It contains some valuable hints to young sportsmen,
-on the art of Taking Aim.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The pursuit and destruction of wild animals for
-security, food, clothing, or pastime, have been among
-the occupations of men in all ages, since the primeval
-<span class='it'>bruere</span> overspread the earth,</p>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='pindent'>And wild in woods the noble savage ran!</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='noindent'>Before the more refined arts are introduced into any
-country, the chase is a necessity, and the chief business
-of life. The stronger and more noxious animals
-are destroyed for individual safety; the weaker for
-food. It is not until civilisation and her handmaid
-luxury have seated themselves, that the chase becomes
-a pastime. Nor does it appear when the
-sportsman first sprang into existence. There is no
-corresponding word in any ancient language, since
-that could not be called a sport which was a necessity.
-It is probable that in the earliest ages of society,
-the dog was the sole agent employed by the
-hunter. Afterward various weapons, manual, missile,
-and projectile—as the club, the dart, the arrow, were
-used by the hunter and fowler. Then would follow
-springs, traps, nets, and all that class of devices for
-the capture of beasts and birds <span class='it'>feræ naturæ</span>, comprehended
-in the term toils. As dogs were employed to
-hunt quadrupeds, so, in process of time, hawks were
-trained to bring down birds for the service of their
-master. The arbalest or cross-brow, preceded the
-matchlock, which, however, could scarcely be called
-an implement of the chase, but which, in the order of
-succession, brings us down to the rifle, and original
-fowling-piece with its long, heavy barrel, and flint
-and steel lock; and lastly, we arrive at the double
-barrels and detant locks of the modern shooter.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i094.jpg' alt='' id='iid-0004' style='width:100%;height:auto;'/>
-</div>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>TAKING AIM.</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>When</span> the dog points, or when birds rise near to
-the shooter, he should immediately draw back one
-hammer with the right thumb; experienced sportsmen
-disapprove of the practice of cocking both
-barrels at the same time. They think that it ought
-to be a rule never to cock either barrel, until the
-game be upon the wing, then that the left barrel
-should be cocked and fired, and thereafter taken from
-the shoulder. The right barrel should then be cocked
-and fired if necessary; if not discharged, it should be
-put back to the half-cock, and the left re-loaded. He
-should never be in haste. It is more prudent to let the
-bird escape than to fire hastily. If on open ground,
-he should not fire until the bird is more than twenty
-yards distant. He should be deliberate in bringing
-up the piece to his shoulder, and in making it to bear
-on the object, but the moment he has brought it to
-bear, the finger should act in co-operation with the
-eye, the eye being kept open the while, so that the
-shooter may see whether the bird falls, or feathers
-fall from it, for if he does not see it distinctly at the
-moment of firing, there is something defective in his
-system of taking aim.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The shooter, when learning, should never aim
-directly at the body of a rabbit on foot, or of a bird
-on the wing. This precaution is scarcely necessary
-when the motion of the object is slow, but by habituating
-himself to it on all occasions, he will the
-sooner become an adept. His mark should be the
-head, the legs, or a wing, if within twenty yards.
-When farther off, he should make some allowance,
-according to the distance and speed of the object
-moving. His aim should be at the head of a bird
-rising or crossing—the legs of a bird flushed on an
-eminence and moving downward from him—the
-wing of a bird flying from him in an oblique direction.
-His aim should be at the head of a rabbit, in
-whatever way it may be moving. The same rules
-apply when the object is more than twenty paces
-distant from the shooter, making allowance for the
-speed. Thus, for a partridge crossing, the allowance
-of aim before it with a detonator, at twenty paces,
-will be one inch—at thirty paces two inches—at fifty
-paces five inches—at fifty-five paces seven inches.
-Half this allowance will be proper when the bird
-moves in an oblique direction. When an object
-moves directly from the shooter, at more than twenty
-paces distance, he should fire a little above it. When
-a bird or rabbit approaches the shooter directly, he
-should not aim at it until it has passed him, or has
-turned aside. The moment it has altered its course
-the gun should be brought up, and no time should be
-lost in firing.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>It is not easy at all times to form a correct idea of
-the distance of a bird from the gun. The nature of
-the situation, and the state of the weather often deceive
-the eye. Thus, on a bright day birds appear to
-be near, and on a dull day distant. It is much easier
-to estimate the distance of a bird in small enclosures,
-where hedges or trees serve as guides, than on open
-ground. The hedges, indeed, tend to deceive the
-unpractised eye; the object is supposed to be much
-farther off, while on open ground it is supposed to be
-nearer, than it really is. It is often very difficult to
-determine whether a grouse is within range; and
-sometimes the mist increases the difficulty, for then
-the bird is either scarcely seen, or else magnified, by
-the sun’s rays gleaming through the mist, to an unnatural
-size. In general, grouse are farther off than
-they are supposed to be. The shooter, however, has
-a peculiar sight: every bird he brings down, in good
-style, is at sixty yards distance. It is amusing sometimes
-to hear persons talk, after they have been
-<span class='it'>watched</span>, of the distances at which they have effected
-their shots; they ever think the game so much farther
-off than it really was. The sportsman who has not
-convinced himself by actual measurement, often
-seems to be laboring under a species of hallucination
-when speaking of his distances, and, if he bets on
-them, to a certainty loses. Birds killed at fifteen
-paces are thought to be at twenty-five, and those at
-twenty-five are estimated at thirty-five or forty, and
-so on to the end of the story!</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>When a covey or brood rises, the shooter should
-fix his eye on one bird, and shoot at that bird only.
-He should not be diverted from it by other birds
-rising nearer to him while he is bringing up his gun,
-unless the bird he first set his eye upon be decidedly
-out of all reasonable distance, so as to render the
-chance of killing exceedingly remote. By observing
-this rule, he is not only more certain of bringing down
-his game, but he will more frequently kill the old
-birds—a desideratum, for two reasons; first, because
-he will, in all probability, disperse the covey, which
-being done, any sportsman may generally, without
-difficulty, bag a few brace; and secondly, because the
-old birds make a better show in the game-bag.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We think that all shooters, except the veriest bunglers,
-use a gun properly as regards throwing the end
-of it upon the object aimed at, and drawing the trigger,
-and that any inaccuracy of aim must be attributed
-to the eye not being in the proper place when the aim
-is taken.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The habit of missing arises not from inability to
-throw the end of the gun upon the bird, but from the
-eye not being directly behind the breech, which it
-necessarily must be for good shooting.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>If there were a sight at each end of the barrel, it
-would be requisite, when taking aim, to keep shifting
-the gun until both sights were in a line between the
-eye and the mark; that, however, with a gun not well
-mounted to the eye and shoulder, would be too complex
-an operation, for before it could be performed,
-a swift bird would be out of reach; it follows, then,
-that the shooter’s attention should be directed only
-to the sight at the top of the barrel; and the breech
-end should come up mechanically to the proper level.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>When a person is nervous, or afraid of the recoil,
-he naturally raises his head, and consequently shoots
-above the mark; on firing, he unconsciously throws
-his head back, and then seeing the bird above the
-end of the gun, he fancies he shot under it, when the
-reverse is the fact. We may also observe that if the
-shooter does not keep his head down to the stock, he
-will probably draw it aside, so that his aim will be as
-if taken from one of the hammers, which would, of
-course, throw the charge as much on one side of the
-mark, as raising the head would above it.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The main point, then, in taking aim, is <span class='it'>to keep the
-head down to the stock, and the eye low behind the breach</span>.
-The sportsman who, from habit or practice, can invariably
-bring his eye down to the same place, and keep it
-steadily there, so that he may always take aim from
-the same starting point, will distance all competitors.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk127'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='rev'></a>REVIEW OF NEW BOOKS.</h1></div>
-
-<hr class='tbk128'/>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='hang'><span class='it'>“The Antediluvians, or the World Destroyed.” A
-narrative poem, in ten books. By James McHenry,
-M. D. Author of the “Pleasures of Friendship,”
-&amp;c. 1 vol. J. B. Lippincott &amp; Co.: Philada.</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>There are two species of poetry known to mankind;
-that which the gods love, and that which men abhor.
-The poetry of the Dr. belongs to the latter class,
-though he seems lamentably ignorant of this, from the
-long essay on taste which he has given to the world
-in the shape of a preface to the work before us, and
-in which his own peculiar merits and demerits are
-discussed at sufficient length. He tells us that he has
-long been tormented with an itching after immortality,
-and that, being convinced not only that the writing of
-a poem was the surest passport to it, but that the
-choice of a subject was the greatest difficulty in the
-way of such a work, he has spent some years of his
-life in selecting the present theme. He has also the
-modesty to acquaint the public that his subject is inferior
-to Milton’s alone, leaving us, by a parity of reasoning,
-to conclude that Dr. McHenry is next in glory
-to the heavenly bard. We congratulate the Dr. on
-his finesse. There is nothing like connecting one’s
-name with that of a genius, for if the world is not deceived
-by it, you persuade yourself, like Major Longbow,
-by a constant repetition of your story, of its
-truth. You become a great man in your own conceit,
-fancy that the world does injustice to your talents, and
-go down to posterity, if not as the falcon’s mate, at
-least as</p>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“A tom-tit twittering on an eagle’s back.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Having thus associated himself with Milton, the
-Dr. proceeds to inform us that, in the Deluge, he at
-length found a theme “exalted and extensive enough
-for the exercise of poetic talents of the highest order,”
-leaving us, a second time, to infer, what he is too
-modest except to insinuate, that his own genius is unequalled.
-He then calls our attention to the plot,
-asserting that the general “plan and scope” of a
-poem are second only to its theme—that is, that diction,
-style, and imagination, in short every requisite
-of a true poet, are but “flimsy stuff.” The Dr. seems
-to know his own weak points, and when the “galled
-jade winces;” but even his elaborated plot is worse
-than nine men out of ten would construct. We have
-gleaned little from it except a few facts, which would
-be strange, were they not ridiculous. There is a description
-of a harem in the second book, from which
-we learn that velvets, and embroidery were as much
-in vogue among the antediluvians as now; an account
-of a siege in the eighth book, which settles the disputed
-question, whether Greek fire, melted lead, and catapults,
-were used then or not; and a detail of a battle
-in the same book, which gives the divisions and
-manœuvres of the contending armies, and puts at rest
-the assertions of military men, who trace our present
-tactics back no farther than the invention of gunpowder.
-Besides this, there are two marriages—a rescued
-maiden—one or more heroes, and as many heroines,
-with an innumerable catalogue of minor incidents,
-in short, the materials of a half a dozen bad novels,
-woven into a worse poem.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We are told in the outset that the “versification is
-not particularly modelled after that of any preceding
-author,” and that our classic poets afford no style
-“exactly suitable for this work,” and, consequently,
-we are but little astonished when we meet with such
-passages as the following:</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;“Subservient to the foul, malignant fiends,</p>
-<p class='line0'>The abandoned race of Cain their God forsook,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And to the infernal agents gave their hearts.</p>
-<p class='line0'>Oh! preference worse than foolish, choice insane!</p>
-<p class='line0'>Which drove celestial spirits from their charge</p>
-<p class='line0'>Of guardianship o’er human feebleness,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And left the hapless Cainites in the power</p>
-<p class='line0'>Of hellish tyrants, whom they blindly served,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Lured by the sensual pleasures amply given</p>
-<p class='line0'>In transient, poisonous recompense for guilt.”</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;<span class='it'>Page 14.</span></p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='noindent'>Or this:</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;“Here reigned the fierce Shalmazar, giant king,</p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>Sprung from a mixture of infernal strain</span>,</p>
-<p class='line0'>His sire, the power of lewdness, Belial named,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Who, amorous of an earth-born beauty, won</p>
-<p class='line0'>Astoreth, princess of Gal-Cainah’s realm,</p>
-<p class='line0'>To his unhallowed love.”</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;<span class='it'>Page 16.</span></p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'>What the meaning of the author is in the line above
-italicised, we challenge all Christendom to discover.
-But even no sense at all, is better than mere verbiage,
-or coarse or improbable metaphor, as thus:</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;“Repose at last, where it is ever found</p>
-<p class='line0'>By weary mortals, in the peaceful grave,</p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>In which his heir, that moralising youth,</span></p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>The melancholy Lameth, had before</span></p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>Laid down the o’erpowering burden of his woes.</span>”</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;<span class='it'>Page 12.</span></p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='noindent'>And again:</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>“The <span class='it'>harnessed-spirits</span> spreading forth their wings.”</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;<span class='it'>Page 11.</span></p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='noindent'>And thus:</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>“Then was the hour of vengeance; then the stern</p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>Hell-generated</span> tyrant felt dismay,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And in his chariot fled—”</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;<span class='it'>Page 262.</span></p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'>But we must bring a still heavier charge against the
-Dr., that of a total want of originality. The whole
-plan and conception of the Antediluvians is copied, but
-“longo intervallo,” after Paradise Lost. Had Milton
-never written poetry, Dr. McHenry would never have
-published bombast. Yet the one is only the shadow
-of the other’s shade. This imitation is perceptible,
-not only in various attempts to copy the versification,
-but oftentimes in more glaring and less defensible
-plagiarisms. Would it, for instance, be believed that
-the second book of the Antediluvians begins with a
-passage so nearly resembling the opening of the
-second book in Paradise Lost, as to make, as Dogberry
-has it, “flat burglary?” Thus:</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>“High on a throne of royal state, which far</p>
-<p class='line0'>Outshone the wealth of Ormus and of Ind,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Or where the gorgeous east, with richest hand,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Showers on her kings barbaric, pearls and gold,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Satan exalted sat.”</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;<span class='it'>Paradise Lost, Book II.</span></p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>“In royal robes, magnificently bright,</p>
-<p class='line0'>On his imperial throne of burnished gold,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And polished ivory, which sparkling shone,</p>
-<p class='line0'>With gems innumerable, of various hues,</p>
-<p class='line0'>That shed a blaze of streaming radiance round</p>
-<p class='line0'>The gorgeous hall, the haughty monarch sat.”</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;<span class='it'>Antediluvians, page 29.</span></p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'>And so on diluting the idea of Milton into a dozen
-more lines, and shewing, at once, the grandeur of the
-model, and the feebleness of the imitation. Yet Dr.
-McHenry calls himself a poet, and pretends to the
-divine afflatus. But again:</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;“Such scenes of cruelty and blood,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Exhibited before appalled Heaven,</p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>To make the angels weep</span>, to look on earth!”</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;<span class='it'>Antediluvians, page 202.</span></p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;“But man, frail man,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Drest in a little brief authority,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven,</p>
-<p class='line0'>As make the angels weep.”</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;<span class='it'>Shakspeare.</span></p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'>We might multiply such instances;—but enough.
-Has the Dr. forgotten the celebrated verse of Virgil?</p>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“Hos ego versiculos feci, tulit alter honores.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The Dr. appears fond of the use of epithets, especially
-such ones as “infernal, fiendish, hellish,” and
-other coarse adjectives. We do not object to the use
-of the two former, provided they appear sparingly
-and in place, but really the work before us is seasoned
-rather highly with such epithets for our taste. The
-Dr. however, appears to be of the Tompsonian
-school in literature, and not only spices strongly, but
-swashes away right and left at the accredited school.
-We advise him, once for all, to give up poetry, which
-he disgraces, for physic, which he may adorn. God
-never intended him for an immortal fame. We are
-satisfied that, if he should be arraigned for writing
-poetry, no sane jury would ever convict him; and if,
-as most likely, he should plead guilty at once, it
-would be as quickly disallowed, on that rule of law,
-which forbids the judges to decide against the plain
-evidence of their senses.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk129'/>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='hang'><span class='it'>“The Dream, and other Poems.” By the Hon. Mrs.
-Norton. Carey and Hart, Philadelphia: 1841.</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Hemans, Baillie, Landon, and loveliest of all, Norton!—what
-a glorious constellation for one language.
-France with her gaiety: Italy with her splendid genius:
-even Greece with her passionate enthusiasm, cannot
-rival such a galaxy. And this glory too, belongs
-wholly to the present century, for though the harp of
-England has often been struck by female hands, it has
-heretofore only given forth a rare and fitful cadence,
-instead of the rich, deep, prolonged harmony which
-now rolls from its chords.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Mrs. Norton is unquestionably,—since the death of
-Mrs. Hemans, the queen of English song. In many
-respects she resembles that gifted poetess: in some
-she is strikingly dissimilar. The same pathos, the
-same sweetness, the same fancy characterize both;
-but in all that distinguishes the practised author,
-rather than the poetess, Mrs. Hemans has the advantage
-of her successor. Thus, the one is sometimes
-faulty in the rhythm: the other never. Mrs. Norton
-will now and then be betrayed into a carelessness of
-diction; Mrs. Hemans was rarely, if ever, guilty of
-such solecisms. Such expressions, for instance, as
-the “harboring” land, the “guiding” hand, the “pausing”
-heart, the “haunting” shade, and others of like
-character, taken at random from the volume before
-us, though not strictly improper, yet, as they are
-plainly expletive, and weaken, instead of strengthening
-a sentence, are never to be found in the poems of
-Mrs. Hemans, or of any one “learned in the craft.”</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But, if Mrs. Norton is less correct than Mrs. Hemans,
-she is, on the other hand, more nervous, more
-passionate, and at times more lofty. No one can
-read “The Dream” without being struck by the truth
-of the remark, that Mrs. Norton is the Byron of our
-female poets. There are passages in some of her
-poems of greater power than any passages of like
-length in Mrs. Hemans’ writings, though at the same
-time, there are a far greater number of inferior lines
-in the poetry of Mrs. Norton, than in that of her
-gifted sister. In short, the one is the more equal, the
-other is the more daring. One is the more skilful
-writer: the other shows glimpses of a bolder genius.
-There is less prettiness, and not so much sameness in
-Mrs. Norton as in Mrs. Hemans. The former is not
-yet, perhaps, the equal of the latter, but she possesses
-the power to be so, if her rich fancy and deep feeling,
-now scarcely known to herself, should ever be brought
-so completely under her control as were the talents
-of Mrs. Hemans.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>If Mrs. Norton had written nothing before, this
-volume would have established her claim to be the
-first of living poetesses; but who that is familiar with
-the world of song can forget the many gems—rich,
-and beautiful, and rare—with which she has spangled
-beforetime her starry crown? The world has taken
-more care of her glory than she has herself, and the
-random pieces she has poured forth so divinely at
-intervals, and which hitherto she has made no effort
-to preserve, have found their way into the hearts of
-all who can be touched by the mournful or the beautiful,
-until her name is cherished alike in the humble
-cottage and the princely hall. And now she has
-come forth in more stately guise, not as a new author
-among strangers, but as one long tried and known,
-one endeared to us by old association, one whose
-melancholy music is, as it were, a part of our very
-being.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The Dream” is the longest poem in the volume
-before us, but, as it makes no pretension to be considered
-a story, and has really no plot, we shall not
-judge it by the ordinary rule of criticism. We shall
-consider it only as a string of pearls, loosely joined
-together by the simplest contrivance, the idea of a
-dream, narrated by a daughter to her mother,—and,
-judging it in this way, we give it unqualified praise.
-That its merit is unequal, is, in our eyes, no objection
-to its beauty,—for have not all poets skimmed the
-ground as well as soared to heaven? Yes! “The
-Dream” is unequal, but so is Lallah Rookh, so is
-Marmion, so are all the tales of Byron, and so—to
-ascend a step higher—is Comus, or Hamlet, or even
-the Iliad.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>But Mrs. Norton, like her gifted sister, possesses
-one quality which distinguishes her above all other
-writers, in this or in any tongue—we mean in giving
-utterance to, what is emphatically, <span class='it'>the poetry of woman</span>.
-In this they resemble no cotemporary, unless
-it is Miss Landon. Women have written poetry
-before, but if it had been shewn to a stranger, he
-could not have told from which sex it sprung. It is
-not so with the poetry of these two gifted females.
-Every line betrays the woman—each verse breathes the
-tender, the melting, the peculiar eloquence of the sex.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>Scarcely a page, moreover, occurs in the writings
-of either, which does not bear testimony to woman’s
-suffering and worth. Yes! while it is the fashion to
-sneer at the purity of woman’s heart, and while a
-pack of literary debauchees are libelling our mothers
-and our sisters unopposed, from the ranks of that insulted
-sex have risen up defenders of its innocence,
-to shame the heartless slanderers to silence. Hear
-in what eloquent numbers Mrs. Norton vindicates
-her sex:</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>“Warriors and statesmen have their meed of praise,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And what they do or suffer men record;</p>
-<p class='line0'>But the long sacrifice of woman’s days</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Passes without a thought—without a word;</p>
-<p class='line0'>And many a holy struggle for the sake</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Of duties sternly, faithfully fulfill’d—</p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>For which the anxious mind must watch and wake,</span></p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;<span class='it'>And the strong feelings of the heart be still’d</span>,—</p>
-<p class='line0'>Goes by unheeded as the summer wind,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And leaves no memory and no trace behind!</p>
-<p class='line0'>Yet it may be more lofty courage dwells</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;In one meek heart which braves an adverse fate,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Than his, whose ardent soul indignant swells,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Warmed by the fight, or cheer’d through high debate:</p>
-<p class='line0'>The soldier dies surrounded;—<span class='it'>could he live</span></p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>Alone to suffer, and alone to strive?</span></p>
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-</div>
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>Answer, ye graves, whose suicidal gloom</p>
-<p class='line0'>Shows deeper honor than a common tomb!</p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>Who sleep within?</span></p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'>Aye! who? Not woman, we can answer for it.
-God bless her who has written thus. The wretches
-who would rob the sex of their purity of heart, and
-their uncomplaining endurance of suffering, deserve
-to die, uncheered by woman’s nurture, unwept by
-woman’s tenderness. Such beings are not men: they
-are scarcely even brutes: they are <span class='it'>aliquid monstri</span>,
-monsters in part. But again:</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;“In many a village churchyard’s simple grave,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Where all unmarked the cypress branches wave;</p>
-<p class='line0'>In many a vault, where Death could only claim</p>
-<p class='line0'>The brief inscription of a woman’s name;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Of different ranks, and different degrees,</p>
-<p class='line0'>From daily labor to a life of ease,</p>
-<p class='line0'>(<span class='it'>From the rich wife, who through the weary day</span></p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>Wept in her jewels</span>, grief’s unceasing prey,</p>
-<p class='line0'>To the poor soul who trudg’d o’er marsh and moor,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And with her baby begg’d from door to door,—)</p>
-<p class='line0'>Lie hearts which, ere they found that last release,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Had lost all memory of the blessing, “Peace;”</p>
-<p class='line0'>Hearts, whose long struggle through unpitied years,</p>
-<p class='line0'>None saw but Him who marks the mourner’s tears;</p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>The obscurely noble!</span> who evaded not</p>
-<p class='line0'>The woe which he had will’d should be their lot,</p>
-<p class='line0'>But nerved themselves to bear!”</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'>“The Dream,” as a whole, is the finest piece in the
-volume before us. It abounds with glorious passages,
-of which we can only give two more examples—the
-one, impassioned, nervous, and stirring as a trumpet—the
-other sweet, and low, and musical as the
-rustle of an angel’s wing. Few authors can boast such
-a varied power.</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;“Heaven give thee poverty, disease, or death,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Each varied ill that waits on human breath,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Rather than bid thee linger out thy life,</p>
-<p class='line0'>In the long toil of such unnatural strife.</p>
-<p class='line0'>To wander through the world unreconciled,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Heart-weary as a spirit-broken child,</p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>And think it were an hour of bliss like heaven,</span></p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>If thou couldst</span> <span style='font-size:smaller'>DIE</span>—<span class='it'>forgiving and forgiven</span>,—</p>
-<p class='line0'>Or with a feverish hope of anguish born,</p>
-<p class='line0'>(Nerving thy mind to feel indignant scorn</p>
-<p class='line0'>Of all the cruel foes that twixt ye stand,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Holding thy heart-strings with a reckless hand,)</p>
-<p class='line0'>Steal to his presence, now unseen so long,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And claim <span class='it'>his</span> mercy who hath dealt the wrong!</p>
-<p class='line0'>Into the aching depths of thy poor heart,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Dive, as it were, even to the roots of pain,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And wrench up thoughts that tear thy soul apart,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And burn like fire through thy bewildered brain.</p>
-<p class='line0'>Clothe them in passionate words of wild appeal,</p>
-<p class='line0'>To teach thy fellow creatures how to feel,—</p>
-<p class='line0'>Pray, weep, exhaust thyself in maddening tears,—</p>
-<p class='line0'>Recall the hopes, the influences of years,—</p>
-<p class='line0'>Kneel, dash thyself upon the senseless ground,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Writhe as the worm writhes with dividing wound,—</p>
-<p class='line0'>Invoke the Heaven that knows thy sorrow’s truth,</p>
-<p class='line0'>By all the softening memories of youth—</p>
-<p class='line0'>By every hope that cheered thine early day—</p>
-<p class='line0'>By every tear that washes wrath away—</p>
-<p class='line0'>By every old remembrance long gone by—</p>
-<p class='line0'>By every pang that makes thee yearn to die;</p>
-<p class='line0'>And learn at length how deep and stern a blow</p>
-<p class='line0'>Man’s hand can strike, and yet no pity show!”</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'>What force! what passion! Never has Mrs. Hemans
-written thus,—few indeed have done so except
-Byron.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We must pass “The Dream” with a single other
-quotation. It is on the evening hour, and is sweet
-as a moonlit landscape, or a child’s dream of heaven.</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;“<span class='it'>That</span> hour, once sacred to God’s presence, still</p>
-<p class='line0'>Keeps itself calmer from the touch of ill,</p>
-<p class='line0'>The holiest hour of earth. <span class='it'>Then</span> toil doth cease,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Then from the yoke, the oxen find release—</p>
-<p class='line0'>Then man rests, pausing from his many cares,</p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>And the world teems with children’s sunset prayers!</span></p>
-<p class='line0'>Then innocent things seek out their natural rest,</p>
-<p class='line0'>The babe sinks slumbering on its mother’s breast,</p>
-<p class='line0'>The birds beneath their leafy covering creep,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Yea, even the flowers fold up their buds in sleep;</p>
-<p class='line0'>And angels, floating by on radiant wings,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Hear the low sounds the breeze of evening brings,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Catch the sweet incense as it floats along,</p>
-<p class='line0'>The infant’s prayer, the mother’s cradle-song,</p>
-<p class='line0'>And bear the holy gifts to worlds afar,</p>
-<p class='line0'>As things too sacred for this fallen star.”</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'>There is, in reading these poems, an abiding sense
-of the desolation that has fallen on the heart of the
-writer, a desolation which only adds to the mournful
-music of her lyre, like the approach of death, is fabled,
-to give music to the swan. We have studiously
-avoided, heretofore, touching upon this subject, as
-we would not, by awakening pity, blind the judgment
-of the public, but we cannot avoid the remark, that
-every page of this volume bears evidence that the
-heart of the authoress, like that of Rachel, will not
-be comforted. The arrow has entered deep into her
-soul. Like Mrs. Hemans, unfortunate in her domestic
-life—for the miscreant who would still believe her
-guilty is an insult to humanity—she “seeks, as the
-stricken deer, to weep in silence and loneliness.”
-Hers is a hard lot; deserted by the one who has
-sworn to love her, and maligned by the unfeeling
-world, she has not even the consolation of weeping
-with her children, and finding some relief in their
-caresses for her broken heart. Hear her once more—we
-have almost wept as we read—hear her, when
-gazing in the twilight at the pictures of her absent
-children.</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>“Where are ye? Are ye playing</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;By the stranger’s blazing hearth;</p>
-<p class='line0'>Forgetting, in your gladness,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Your old home’s former mirth?</p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>Are ye dancing? Are ye singing?</span></p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;<span class='it'>Are ye full of childish glee?</span></p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>Or do your light hearts sadden</span></p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;<span class='it'>With the memory of me?</span></p>
-<p class='line0'>Round whom, oh! gentle darlings,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Do your young arms fondly twine,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Does she press you to <span class='it'>her</span> bosom</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Who hath taken you from mine?</p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>Oh! boys, the twilight hour</span></p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;<span class='it'>Such a heavy time hath grown</span>,—</p>
-<p class='line0'>It recalls with such deep anguish</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;All I used to call my own,—</p>
-<p class='line0'>That the harshest word that ever</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Was spoken to me there,</p>
-<p class='line0'>Would be trivial—would be <span class='it'>welcome</span>—</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;In this depth of my despair!</p>
-<p class='line0'>Yet no! Despair shall sink not.</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;While life and love remain,—</p>
-<p class='line0'>Tho’ the weary struggle haunt me,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And my prayer be made in vain:</p>
-<p class='line0'>Tho’ at times my spirit fail me</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And the bitter tear-drops fall,</p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>Tho’ my lot be hard and lonely,</span></p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;<span class='it'>Yet I hope—I hope thro’ all.</span>”</p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'>And then, with what a burst of eloquence, she
-carries out the idea!</p>
-
-
- <div class='poetry-container' style=''>
- <div class='lgp'> <!-- rend=';' -->
-<div class='stanza-outer'>
-<p class='line0'>“By the living smile which greeted</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;The lonely one of Nain,</p>
-<p class='line0'>When her long last watch was over,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And her hope seemed wild and vain;</p>
-<p class='line0'>By all the tender mercy</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;God hath shown to human grief,</p>
-<p class='line0'>When fate or man’s perverseness</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;Denied and barr’d relief,—</p>
-<p class='line0'>By the hopeless woe which taught me</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;To look to him alone,</p>
-<p class='line0'>From the vain appeals for justice,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And wild efforts of my own,—</p>
-<p class='line0'>By thy light—thou unseen future,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;And thy tears—thou bitter past,</p>
-<p class='line0'><span class='it'>I will hope—tho’ all forsake me</span>,</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;<span class='it'>In His mercy to the last!</span>”</p>
-<p class='line0'>&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;<span class='sc'>Twilight.</span></p>
-</div>
-</div></div> <!-- end poetry block --><!-- end rend -->
-
-<p class='pindent'>But we must close this article. There are many
-exquisite shorter pieces in the volume, besides
-The Dream and Twilight. The Creole Girl; The
-Child of Earth; I cannot Love Thee; The Visionary
-Portrait; The Banner of the Covenanters; Weep
-not for him that Dieth; and several of the Sonnets
-may be instanced as among the finest. Let us, in
-conclusion, commend the poems of Mrs. Norton to
-our fair countrywomen as those of a mind of a high
-order. Less egotism, a more extended scope of feeling,
-and greater attention to the rules of her art, will
-place her foremost among the female poets of England.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk130'/>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='hang'><span class='it'>“Bancroft’s History of the United Slates.” Vol. 3.</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The first two volumes of this history have now
-been some years before the public, and criticism has
-long since given them its <span class='it'>fiat</span>. The characteristics
-of Mr. Bancroft are a rigid scrutiny of facts, a general
-impartiality, and a style, usually nervous, but
-sometimes savoring of transcendental obscurity. The
-style of the second volume, however, is an improvement
-on that of the first, and the volume before us
-surpasses, in our opinion, either of the former two.
-There is a philosophy in Bancroft which other historians
-might well emulate. No man has traced so
-clearly the causes of the American Revolution. It
-was the stern, hard, independence of the Pilgrims,
-handed down to their posterity, and united with the
-gallant and chivalric freedom of the South, which
-brought about the greatest revolution of modern
-times.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The pictures which Mr. Bancroft draws in pursuing
-the thread of his narrative, are often highly graphic.
-The early adventures of Soto and others; the colony
-of Raleigh at Roanoke; the landing of the Pilgrims;
-the Indian wars of New England, are all described with
-force if not with beauty. The gradual dissemination
-of the Democratic principle is also faithfully depicted;
-and it is clearly shown that the Puritans, the Swedes,
-and the Quakers, alike formed pure democracies in
-their settlements. In short, the history is something
-more than a mere chronicle: it is a continuous essay
-on the philosophy of the American Revolution.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The third volume brings the subject down to the
-period of the old French war, an epoch which may be
-considered at the threshold of the struggle for independence.
-Here, for the present, he drops the curtain.
-A fitter point, for such a pause could not have
-been chosen. Behind, is the long succession of trials,
-and dangers, through which the infant colonies had
-just passed: before is the wild, shadowy future, soon
-to become vivid with its startling panorama. Such a
-reflection might well fill the mind of the historian
-with a kind of solemn awe; and it is while such feelings
-overpower his readers, that he introduces Washington,
-the future hero of the scene.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>The work is beautifully printed, in a style highly
-creditable to the American press.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'>We leave Mr. Bancroft with the hope that his
-historic labors will be pursued with redoubled zeal,
-satisfied that in him America possesses a philosophic
-annalist of the highest order.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk131'/>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='hang'><span class='it'>“Bryant’s American Poets.” 1 vol. Harper &amp; Brothers.</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>This work does credit to the editor, although he
-has admitted some, and left out others, of our poetical
-writers, whom we think he ought not so to have
-treated. However, a compilation like this can never
-be made to suit all. The true question is, who can
-do better?</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk132'/>
-
-<div class='blockquote'>
-
-<p class='hang'><span class='it'>“Travels to the City of the Caliphs.” By Lieutenant
-Wellsted. 2 vols. Lea &amp; Blanchard.</span></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='pindent'>This is a light, entertaining work. The adventures
-of the hero (Lieut. Ormsby) are highly pleasing; and
-he evinces a laudable desire to fall in love, as well
-for his own as for the convenience of the reader. On
-the whole, the book is well written, and quite
-amusing.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk133'/>
-
-<div><h1><a id='fash'></a>FASHIONS FOR FEBRUARY, 1841.</h1></div>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>CARRIAGE DRESS.</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>Fig. 1.</span>—Robe of one of the new figured silks; the
-skirt trimmed with two <span class='it'>bias</span> flounces; half-high <span class='it'>corsage</span>,
-and bishop’s sleeve. Cambric <span class='it'>collerette-fichû</span>,
-trimmed with Valenciennes lace. Violet satin <span class='it'>mantelet</span>,
-lined with <span class='it'>gros de Naples</span>, and bordered with a
-broad band of violet velvet; it is of the scarf form,
-but made long and ample, and with a small pointed
-hood. Green satin <span class='it'>chapeau</span>, a round brim, something
-deeper than they are in general; the interior is
-trimmed on each side with a half wreath of blush-roses;
-the exterior with bands and knots of green
-ribbon, and a white and green shaded <span class='it'>marabout</span>
-plume.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>EVENING DRESS.</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>Fig. 2.</span>—Lemon-colored satin robe, trimmed with a
-deep flounce of antique point lace, surmounted by
-roses placed singly at regular distances above the
-flounce; low tight <span class='it'>corsage</span> and sleeve, both trimmed
-with point. Head-dress of hair, disposed in thick
-masses of ringlets at the sides, and a low open bow
-behind; it is decorated with flowers, and a gold cross,
-<span class='it'>Châle bournouss</span> of white cashmere, lined with white
-satin, and bordered with a band of black and plaid
-velvet.</p>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>Fig. 3.</span>—India muslin robe; the skirt is trimmed
-with a closely plaited <span class='it'>volan</span>, which encircles the bottom
-of the border, mounts in the drapery style on
-one side, and is terminated by a <span class='it'>nœud</span> of muslin, similarly
-finished at the ends; a <span class='it'>chef d’or</span> head the <span class='it'>volan</span>.
-<span class='it'>Corsage en gerbe</span> and short full sleeve, both ornamented
-with <span class='it'>chefs d’or</span>. The head dress gives a front
-view of the one just described. Opera cloak of brown
-<span class='it'>rep</span> velvet, lined with blue satin: it is made shorter
-than the dress, of moderate width, and trimmed with
-three blue satin <span class='it'>rouleaus</span>, each placed at some distance
-from the other, and a light embroidery surmounting
-the upper one. A small hood, and a very deep lappel
-complete the ornaments.</p>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak'>OPERA DRESS.</h2>
-
-<p class='pindent'><span class='sc'>Fig. 4.</span>—<span class='it'>Douilette</span> of white cashmere, wadded, and
-lined with pink <span class='it'>gros de Naples</span>; the lining quilted in
-a lozenge pattern; the <span class='it'>corsage</span> is made tight to the
-shape, and half-high. Demi-large sleeve; the front
-of the skirt is finished on each side by fancy silk
-trimming. <span class='it'>Mantelet</span> of a large size, and of the same
-materials, bordered with a rich white and pink <span class='it'>chenille</span>
-fringe. Black velvet <span class='it'>chapeau à la Louis XIII</span>,
-trimmed with white and pink feathers.</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter'>
-<img src='images/i109.jpg' alt='' id='iid-0005' style='width:100%;height:auto;'/>
-<p class='caption'><span class='bold'><span style='font-size:smaller'>FASHIONS FOR FEBRUARY 1841 FOR GRAHAM’S MAGAZINE.</span></span></p>
-</div>
-
-<hr class='tbk134'/>
-
-<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.</p>
-
-<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
-
-<p class='noindent'>[End of <span class='it'>Graham’s Magazine, Vol. XVIII, No. 2, February 1841</span>, George R. Graham, Editor]</p>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
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