VOLUME 19.
OETRY AND MISCELLANY,
TUN DESIZIATEID noven.
In R. 11. STODDAIRD.
The Old house lies In ruin and wreak,
And the villagers stand in fear aloof;
The rafters bend, and the roof is black;
Hut Wight green mosses spot the roof;
The window penes are shattered out,
And the broken ( glass is lying about,
And the . elins and poplars cast a shade
All day long on the colonade.
The lawn in front with its 'sloping bank,
A garden sweet in its happier hours,
Is covered with weeds, and grasses rank
Usurp the place of Its faded flowers:
Adders bask In the summer sun,
And rusty toads and beetles run
(her the paths, the gravelly floor,
Where children played In the days of yore,
A light grind ftont door swingy
And creaks on its hinges--the sun lies there,
There's a web stretthed over it full of n ings -
And the spider watches within his lair.
I tee the stair case slant, and wide
The (ow) hall and rooms inside,
The floor a rot cred nit!) damp and mould,
And the dust !loam up like a hoist of gold.
heat a noise In the echoing hall.
A .olrinn sound tile a stifled sight
And shadows mote on the dusky wall
Like ilw sttisli of garments panning by;
And facet glimmer amid the gloom,
Floating along front room to room:
'Phi. I kod come bark, a Among train,
And ismple the lonely hunt, again.
•a• a bvantiful
Stand at her ititrr9r watt consritnts
I)..ekt , d ornainplit,, gems of light:-
And robed in ninte hoc a !ON Brit);
A w
Awl lwr yomiLwr -i•r , , bli th e and fair
Iri• ttcininG non cr. in her navy liair—
%col, anoilivr 111151'1'11 bef.,re—
'flin Prolegrouni poliong 111 at the door: •
Vele' thr• :1114 are eoiereil will, holly,
.tad a uu•tleio 1,.,14:1i is hung on high,
pas-es—the uu•u are col},
the Hushing malfs .t-4y
The old folks nit L. (h' cracklllig blaie,
L trot; owlr U.,cr early .1 ns,
Tito eltilthee chailer a,. i loatili in glee,
Adel the baby erutts ou liti u,tatehrlfe's knee
.liid now i• Summer, and children sing,
!Jule in corners ;And rhoily noohb,
And -It on the fluor iu n manly ring, •
the II I lle reacs fairy hooks.
I . llllloa come:. aunt Ole) tease 1114 r pl.;y,
At] cum it at their ride tei pray,
And knell, awl after their pryers are
hi-s her anti huddle a , aa ITS.
But gl.tonlier pictures haur %%ill! p•ar9—
The nick Mall it o❑ a bed or pain.
Awl the pale %lift. nna by Ina "PIC in tria's
%Voiding; firs broken sieep lir tam
%sr rain! for lo+ rirqi oil earth are rbore.
..%gd th , • Ilb In, life arc rim;
A tra,'—,t ^nulc—aa , l the :.111 1 i 4
.Ltd the lisrog is Zell . alone lath the (lead.
A 1 - 1111eTt11 flu 111 the 11,Itkteled
'1 • lu• 1111.111111erS gather around bier.
Anti luok their Ino, nail rhea children
Vevu it% the etythil, ill. fear;
The holy I. Lorne aUh tear,: and \ 0
I tun II the FhaJed n'etrue..l,m,
Dtmti to the gate flint,. 111111,0 rusatt,
thy plumed hvar.e and tt> balde state
The house is quiet and nlops in gloom.
The mirth and re;el yr or !taco. Iled,
'lie vci lit sits in the silent (00111. '
And dreams of the clear deo:cried Dead,
by the magic of lies,, , ,r) htpuld—
And the briuk.. and lad. and the giffl4 aroand,
I upen the nal] more luau ay
icortracil living on the ciotptcrce
111/.loi-o,m thicken—a ,0111.1
:41111)SV :11111 lileklit`NS--41ealli—Ini 4 .
'orrutv and NiChilers—death agapt—
Tile shade of ItifiAting ut er ail—
and lei( his arron x fly;
by one the famil)
11init the oh! !Voir... ralleth 111 dernVe
I%asten aid; the ' , dent )earit ;may.
he Fortunes of a Beauty.
1 6V 74195 POWYR
there are who,. "born to greatness," yet do not
.ro greatness," either by :wino fault or fully of their
.I.their parents; or by eomo untoward fancy of
Iheir horitage of "greatness" passes away from
ad is thrust upon others, perhaps less worthy to
I s it. Lady Louisa Arden, the heroine' of our tale,
.rn to gicatness;" sho was the second daughter of
rl of Annandalo, a proud, cold man, who was ao
mpressed with an idea of his own power and con
co that he imagined not only all persons, but all
stances, wore to bond to hie will. lie loved hie
daughter as much as it was in his nature'to love
le; not that his 'auction sprang from the amiable
8 oho really possessed, but he loved her because
beautiful, clover, and adthired, and therefore she
"itch!
cm n,
rate,
them
posso l l
was ii;
rho E
fully %
ClllO
circa
EMI
MEI
quahti
she a
iniatered to his pride. In Lady Louisa and his son.
Lord 141escourt, was centred his whole stock of paternal
stfecti.n: and for his eldest daughter, Lady Emily, who
pow', ed butlew attractions, ho felt the Most perfect in
rlaer.nce.
Lad . Louisa was indeed lovely. She was tall, slight,
ad pculiarly graceful, with eyes blue an an Italian sky
i r
—that peculiar pearly transparent fraichour, without
which all blondes must be fade, or coarse, and beautiful
4ii id p hair falling in smooth, soft ringlets, it ith a long
streakl4 lea Arden when, at th'? f light "down each particular curl. Such was La
di Lo of seventeen, she was
il l)
"brou ht eat" under the chaperonage of her aunt, the'
larch ones of Granville (foilier mother had died when
'he ivls quite a child.) No sooner did she mako her
liebui ia the world of fashion than she was at once pro
c,ounil to be that envied and admired being—that ob
ject hated by passers beauties and designing chaperones
—the 'bells of the season'"
Cou ted, flattered, followed, Lady Louisa kopt l tin tha
'sten tenor of her w ove;" little'did „ii he hoed the hom
,:te Pa 4 at the shrine of her beauty. little did it matter to
her al ether she was admired or neglicted by the gay
(taro, FAQ followed her footsteps, recorded her words,
tad lied to the light of her smile. Lady Louisa was
ji ier —and with whom? With ono who, though ho
,!'ttsiqy boasted "aname," could_ not claim "a local
hshaa l %en" and wh o , besides n commission in the
t : l "rd 4 " 11 1.8 many Inmilreds as would barely support
",'. ;km) . with respectability, possessed no worldly
I.
,511 . 6 . 11 et any de!.erimion.
.Sprie) li4milton. Ivhosp name was preceded by that
azist . o rage nerd 'itonµr4l2l?," wrys a cousin to the fair
i f 4 "1 , . and being rin nrplum and the second son of a
idler h o had been disinherited all but the small entail
'`i Property a hieli accompanied the title. for ammo youth
r'l ral i. Lord Annandale, far less flout motives of kind
'le" 4 , I generusity than from tho 14vo of pritrunisiug
: di F'ne tk fAip,p9A clip riCouity of the family in tho
i :
iet , on f ono of its members, had brought the young
1 :la t his hov i sci whe n ho wan about Murton% and in
:rear r wo procured for Mal a corninimion in tho
liiitult
b brief: SI(111(V wag han&one, bravo, and high
nfN ..$llll vent colotiolitien for loving and being )avcd;
.4 = O . It he thought lus b,Cauktful cousin by fa! 14
TIIE ERIE III .SE WV
most &ruble creature he bad ever seen, u she enter
tained a very similar opinion of him. au excellent midst
standing was soott established between the youthful pair.
This passion had commenced when Louisa Wu about
sixteen and her lover scarcely twenty-one, and unlike
the generality of first loves, it had increased instsai of
dying out, as is almost invariably the case with thou
youthful penchants. They had settled the whole affair
very comfortably in their own minds, that when they
were a little older they were to ask "papa's consent" and
be married. - - Lady Louisa had net the slightest doubts
on the subject; she was very young. very innocent, and
very inexperienced, and always judged by appearances;
she imagined. therefore. that as her father wee always
so kind to Sidney. and seemed fond of him, that he could
have no possible objection to him as a son-in-law - . True,
he was poor; but her fortune, sho thought, would be suf
ficient to supply all their wants, all their necessities, and
even to afford them some luxuries. They would have a
small house in town. and a charming little cottage in the'
country—perhaps; they would rido together, and he
.Mould drive her in his cab; and, in short, they were to
be "as happy as the day is long," as the nureery tales
any.
Sidney did not feel so confident eato Lord Annandale'a
giving an immediate consent. He was a little. though
not much, more experienced in the ways of the world
than his ••ladyo love;" but being of a sanguine digposi
lion, and knowing the influence Lady Louisa possessod
with her father, ho auticipatold only some delay and op
position, which Wee to be got over without any rery great
difficulty.
T' At se - 4 ;lie-fair Lp•••
.imo went on. .t seVetifeurn the. fair Louisa was pre
sented, and made, as we hay aid, a great sensation;
admirers flocked round in aln ance, but she give them
so little of what could be called. encouragement, though
she was universally amiable and polite, that they gener
ally contented, themselves with fluttering around at a re
spectful distance—and when one or two, boldeethan the
rest, persevered in paying her marked attentions, as i f
to ingratiate themselves force, the coldness with which
these attentions were rejected told them hoW vnin _ wore
all their efforts to storm so Impregnable a heart. But
there was one among he r r adorers who was not 'so easily
io be repulsed. The*MitrqueSs of Denysford was of ono
of the oldeist families in(England and it bed grown con
siderably cilder since ha was burn, for that event had ta
ken place sonie - aixty years before—however, as the num
ber of those years and of his thousands per annum ex
actly coilicided, the sixty dwindled l i mo a very - small
number beside the sixty thousand, an Lord Den3sfold
was thought much more irresistible than many who pos
sensed less than half his age and moans in proportion to '
the differeinee.
Lord Annandale, after some deliberation, came to the
same conclusion, mid gave as much encettrageinent as
ho thought consistent with his dignity to the addresses of
the 'venerable lover, who, thus countenanced by the fath
er, could not, or would not, perceive the distate of the
/laughter, and in duo time made the proposition de mar
riage to the former, deeming it more likely to succeed
•
than if addressed to the lady in prson.
Lord Annandaie received it with an air of dignified sat=
isfaction, and proceeded to annonneato Lady Louisa the
happy lot that awaited her. Little did .he anti/4pm'. 0.4 1
scene that followed. Lady Louisa, far from tieing grati
fied with the imitable alliance, declared that she never
would or could marry Lord Denysford, that she had al
ways disliked him, and concluded with the confession of
her attachment to Sydney Hamilton. This was too much
—that not content with scorning tho alliance proposed by
her father, she 'should venture actually to form en afrec
tion for ono without wealth or title, enraged Lord Annan
dale to such a degree that he declared if she did not im
mediately renounce (Noy and consent to become the
wife of Lord Donysford, he would cease to Consider her as
his child, and that, having chosen her own line of con
duct, she might persue it tf sho Were prepared to take
the cense/pole/4. Then hastily quitting the room, he
left his unhappy child to reflect on his words.
Vain was every attempt to shake his resolution. Lord
Erlescourt, who was fondly attached to his sister, and who
loved Sidney as a brother, pleaded earnestly With his
father; but the proud and obstinate - Old man was inflexi
ble, end each day became more irritated against his
daughter, until at length,. worn out and almost broken
t
hearted. she yielded to the passifnate entreaties of her
lover, and consented to become his wife.
On adark and cloudy night in the mouth of January
did the weeping girl forsake the home whom her happy
childhood had been spout, where she had.grown into wo
manhood, loved and cherished by all around her, to fol
low the fortunes of one who beside his love, had.but little
to give her. That she thought amply sufficient Men; btit,
alas! Poverty is a hard master, and the lessons ho teach
es us are - salutary in themselves, they generally collie too
Into for us to render tinbit available.
lt ie needless to desciibe the rago and indignation of
Lord Annandale upon hearing of his daughter's 'elope
men Vain were all Lord Erloscourt's attempts to soft
en his bitter anger ogainst his once favirito child; he
vowed that never should his pardon.be extended to her,
and that u she had chosen to- disobey him, he cast her
from him to endure the fatal consequences of having
done so.
A year went by: Lady Louisa became a mother, and,
as stmpresspd to her booson her infant son. she forgot,
in the delight of that moment, all the months orpain and
anxiety that had elapsed since her departure from her
father's &rust Besides, she had a lingering hope that
the birth of this child might have the effect of softening
that father'', angpr towads her, so, with a beating heart
and trembling hand, she wrote to , him , a letter ouch as
might have moved the sternest and most inflexible. The
appeal was-vain; Lord Annandale did not even conde
scend to reply to it; and the young mother wept bitterly
over the disappointment of her last hope of forgiveness.
Time went on, but brought no healing on its wings; Syd
ney, who had sold his commission in the Guar& imme
diately after his marriage, and had obtained ono in a reg
iment of the line,,was now ordered abroad, and, having
taker; a amaiLhottse for his wife and child in the neigh
borhood of London, ho quitted them to eml/rk for South
America.
It was the first time since their marriage that they had
been separated even for a day. and Lady Louisa saw her
husband depart with feelings of intense wretchedness.—
She felt utterly deserted, and hor grief began to assume
the character of hopeless despair; but she chocked the
fooling, she had still hor boy and hor beloved brother,
who had never &soiled her in her misfortunes, but, even
generous and atlbctionate, had clung to" her the more
closely that sho had been rejected and forsaken by the
rest of her family, for Lady Emily, cold and heartless,
and partaking much of her father's pride, found but little
difficulty in casting from her thoughts a sister of whose
beauty and attractions she had over been jealous, and
soon she found what was to her a WM powerful and sat
isfactory reason for doing so.
Lord Dotsysford having quite made up his mind to mar
ry low one, and being thus disappointed in the one sis
ter, thought it would be a very good arrangement to trans
fer his affections to the other—this plan would save him
the trouble of Setting out on a fresh search. Muftis Lord
Annandale was already prepared to make a most corn-.
idaisant father-in-law, it seamed to him to be in ail re
spects a most excellent and advisable mode of proceed,
ing. Accordingly a second time did the venerable wooer
ewe to Lord Annandale to make his proposals and with
n far different result, Lady, Emily was quite gracioas air
SATURDAY MORNING, FE
either lover or father could possibly desire. she was is.
deed but too happy in the pelmets that awaited her.—
Many years older than her sister, and poseessiag but few
claims to beauty. her admirers had bees by ao mean, an.
morons. and jealousy and disappointment had not at' all
contributed to improve a 'temper e i er the reverse of am.
bible. Accordingly. when she sari herself about le be.
come a merchandise at the bead of a splendid .establieh.
men; and - 1,60.000 a year. her delight and triumph May
well be imagined. As to the bushed who was to put
her in the possession of all these 114 vantages, she looked
upon him merely 4 the key which was to epos the door
of- the treasury. and then be cast aside as of no further
use or importance. , I
In due time the merrier wee celebrated will the 41.
meat splendour. and the "happy couple" departed, to
speed the honeymoon at on of the estates of Lord DiM.
yeford. 1. i
And where was Lady Louisa, the
mired, and favorite daughter of Loi
was she in the midst of all the rejet
ter'. marriage had caused in the i t
from her father's heart 7 -ber very,
oblivion by all, pith one exeeption,
had once been gladdened by her pre
he for whom she had given lop all,
Poor Lady Louisa, severely had she,
act of disobodienco—dlarly , bad
fault.
Tho marriage of hor eister had
breach that beforo subsisted: Lord
ted tho conduct of his two.dimightens
Emily was not likely to reconcile hin
ted by her sister, and he did not st ,
motives of either, that tho o
selfishness and ambition, the
disinterestedness,which, thoj
a length, had led her to coati
were yot, in themselves, pro fs of 4 I
devoted nature. The one h o b consid,
creditto his family, while th f i e other
having di.graced it, ittul was thereto)
if glib had never belonged to 't.
But her cup of bitterness w
dregs. Lout Erlescourt, that
or who now formed the only
own family, was returning o
when his hotso, alarmed at
s.nang horn a cottago door,
ous speed, stumbling over
with fearful violence, throwi
Lord Erleseourt never spoke!
the nearek house by hie
cou'd arrive ho expired. Th
the house he hod so latch•
health, and streagth, and to
bleeding, lifeless corpse. •I l i
ileuth?" NV hat IlVall3 our
Lions! one short moment :dos
happiness which has been flu
which we once viotved dint;
is nowdiinly visible through
dor cloud. ever and anon
zing thoughts like the keen lightning Bei
Mg all with which it comes in conieB4
-rue terrible intelligence o -her brother's dent!) soon
reached Lady Louisa; in a state of 2m l l int) bordering on
distraction she fled to her fatber,s house—sho was refused
admittance! From thisatlliftion, which was common
to both, cottoning his heart to his unha c ry daughter, ho
rather regarded her as instrom Mital t tho calamity as
it was on her brother's return from her that the
dreadful accident occurred. • Vain wer her prayers and
entroatioa r that sho might bo permitted - to look for one
momontlipon tho face of him who had been the play
mate of her childhood, tho iiind and loving companion
and protector of her mature Bl ears; who, when she was
cast off by the father whose pride and darling she had
once been, by the sister who it she had ever loved, not
withstanding that sister's co dness an indifference to
wards her, still by him was alio fondly cherished, the more
fondly that the world frowned upon her. Almost broken
hearted she returned to her humble hone to spend the
tn
night in tears and bitter laiontations.
As weeks and months rolled on, Lady Louisa's eitua
-tion became daily worse. T p e fortunthe had expected
to possess was entirely condi t ional, an depended upon
her marrying according to hur father's wishes. so that,
not having done so, she forfeited the whole of it," and
nothing remained but tilydn4 i 's extremely Ihnited income,
diminished still more by being divided. and by certain
debts, almost unavoidablyi+rrad. pahly by the pur
chase of different grades in his profsssioh, 'partly by the
inexperience of the youthful pair in th i s eralier days of
their marriage. lie was still abroad. nor did their seem
much likelihood of hiX immelliate return; and. os Lady
Louisa saw harismaffmeans daily dwindling, and thought
how far sho was front him w o alone or i earth could com
fort and help her to struggle on against poverty. she felt
despairing and heart-broken,
Herbealth. too, began to :Hirer from anxiety and fatigue
of mind, and the once blooming and joy ? us girl began to
sink into in unhappy. careworn woma n Her little boy
who bad now reached his foitrth year. was rather deli
cate. and the mother often fete sensation of dread as rte
looked at him - and noted that his fair cheek was less
plump and 'rosy. his infant step less bounding. and his
largo deep blue oyes less brilliant than thoae of moistchil
dren of his ago. He was a s i weel.toutle" creature, arid
there wen a sort of etheriel beauty -in his small. daliCate
features, transparent skin. and wavy gl ,
?den hair, kthet
made you imagine bibinsa bein g too brigh and pun,, and
spiritual for this earth—he seemed, indeed. an angel sent
from &bevel to watch over the destiny Of the sorrow-strick
en woman he called mother; and he returned her un
ceasing and devoted love with a depth rind strength of
affection rarely soon in so young a child and he was so
mildoio Sweet-tempered, and so singularly intelligent,
that the task of his education, which she ad already be
gun. was one of delight and satinfaction, Can it ho t
won
dered that the thread of her existence wati wound up with
that of hor boy, and that, she watched With trembling
anxiety every change and every turn in his countenance
and that she viewed the approach of poverty with shrink
ing terror? And now nearer it come. Lady Louisa
found that she must give up the little cottage she had liv
ed in since heir husband's departure, and Lite a lodging
at a much cheaper rate; this was done, bit still the gaunt
enemy advanced; and she was at length iorcod to occupy
a wretched dwelling in a small, namely and gloomy
street. Hero her little SAlney was a tacked with a
sdvcre illness—for days and nights together the wretched
mother watched in agonizingsitspenso ev i cr her appar
ently dying child—but at length her prayers Were heard,
the orsis of the disease passed, and he was slcuvly recov
ering. But a severer blow was yet reserved 11 - ;:, her; the
husband for whose dear sake she had etulAred all, wits
to be taken from her, and tho news of 14 6 d eat h now
reached her. The letter announcing it had been written
by ono of his brother officers whom sho he l d known when
in England, and who had been Sydney's bloat intimate
friend: and it informed her that a party, in which they
were both Included, had been soul to explore the coast,
and in crossing a large bay, one of the violent and 81104
squalls so frequent in thosel ?attitudes had overturned
their boat, and throe mon, c 4 whom I4dney was one.
had sunk tarise no moral the; rest of the party had with
the greatest difficulty ;cached; the shore, and retnrned to
the encampment to relate the, melancholy - fate of their
companions. , This seemed t o put the finishing stroke to
hor misery; a brain-lover had &Ahmed. and far many
CVO)! IrAnD
o=o lovedo . uud ad
d Annaudal; where ,
ciega which bar ate.
family? Au outcast
r 1 name consigned to
in thatlionsa which
coca; her husband;
far, far from her:-=
suffered for that one
expiated that single
even widened the
.i‘utiandale - contralt
i and that of 1.,n4
z with the line.6dop
bp consider the
(actuated by pride,
44 warm ntroction and
Ig carried to too great
l reach of filial duty,
lohle. generous. and
ered ns an honor and
he looked upon as
eto be forgotten as
IX=
o.her bt
by bein.
!ME!
1
et draintrd to the
and belotied broth
bound her to her
ao not
ellerol.l
io thnt
g from visiting her,
14,0 f a dog which
I. ud, in his furi
tho road, he fell
er o'ear his; held.
ho was convoyed to
before his father
le evenn'
io barki
an awaN
toile in
ig his rig
um, Liu
were removed to
MI of youth. and
p remain
Iquittd
u hie
le new returned a
IA of lifo we aro•in
lEEE
' open, our auticipa
oarth tho cup of
ars, and the future.
y and golden mist.
louring emu.
orme'effolil 4-
, thing and-scorch-
rwrm
hes to lb
ng for )
.13 a sun
a Mack
WEI
RUARY 24, 1849.
weds her del
her life be spi
fled (or ever.
lamb." He I
ever humble,
The mistress
kind-hearted
and sympethig
Louisa, she hl
protracted ill
attention had
tomb, with in
to the earth Wi
strength to be
had bees ipr
ath was looked upon as inevitable; or, should
Itred. it wee thought that reason must be
But "God tempers the wind to the shorn
bad raised up to her one friend, who, how
, yet assisted her in this critical moment.—'
of her wretched lodging was a gentle and
Woman, and a widow herself; she knew
sod with this sufferings of the unhappy lady
I l l ad nursed her through all her violent and
,sa, and with afrectionitto and unwearying
t length restored her from the brink of the
illect unimpaired, tho' with a spirit bowed
itlt a weight of affliction almost beyond hog
44. And yet she felt grateful that her life
itrd; for, as her diirlingloy clung ound her
with his kinew
neck, coveranwith his kisses her iollow cheek and at
tenuated han . and murmuring hie joy at her once more
being able toecognize him and return hie caresses, alto
felt that for hi
eake she would endure, tho very last de
(rev of missl i , and that her death would hare thrown
him en orphat) outcast on the wide world. I.
Some input te had elapsed, and Lady Louisa was once
ir,
more able to two about, and languidly return to her
usual avocations. The winter had passed, and the sweet,
- .balmy spring ad once come Itek to bring soft airs, and
sunshine, and gentle showers. to refresh the bare earth;
even in crowd d smoky London its benign influence was
felt; the black ned trees in the squares had ventured to
put forth their young crop of green leaves, and the smil
ing daises open thi:ir modest eyes and looked a gentle
welcome to th i r sweet season. Lady Louisa had one
bright morning ventured out for the first time Fillet) her
illness, to talud her little Sydney for a short walk in St.
James' Park. , As she went along the Malts she passed
_her father's 11 use,—that house where so many of the
happy dayii of her girlhood had been spent,—and with
whom? with her brother, andlwith him who was after
wards her husband; and now they were in their cold
gkaves, and 8111 1 was a forgotten outcast thrown upon the
still colder wori . d; sift' looked up at the windows, but no
familiar feces appeared at any of than; the house looked
lonely and deserted. While she walked on slowly, her
tearful 'eyes ctih turned towards her old home, a man
' who had been ho confidential servant of her father is
sued from the I °use: as ho passed he glanced carelessly
at her, then, fit eldealy, as if struck by something in her
face, he paused, earnestly regarding her, and recognis
-1 ing ,her, notwithstanding the melancholy change that
grief and sicknes had worked in her, ho advanced to
wards her, and taking off his hat, bowed respectfully.—
With a faltering voice Lady Louisa adcireSsed him, and
Iventured nu im l uiry 118 to her father's health. His lord
chip, the seiva t said, ho was severely, even dangerous-
Ily ill. For som months he had been breaking fast, and
ihe was entirely confined to his bed. ' More than once,
I the man added, ho had mentioned Lady LoUisa's namo
t enttuiries as to her present ret•idosce; but
•o know anything about her. It may ho
the poor widow recoivod this account;
anxiety for.her father, anti yet her heart
'jilt new and delightful heipos, sho stood
la. unablo to doeide upon what stops to
ttl . servant sow her irresolution.
tow asleep," he said "perhaps , . if Sow_
Onto Into . the honse, and wait until—" •
and oven made
non° in tho hou
imagined how
trembling with
boating wildly
for soma *emu
take. To faith
9.41 y lord is
sauyanip would
se° how sho iwotiltll receive the proposi-
lie paused to
lion.
"Yes!" she e
:claimed: "you are right, l llarris: I will
go in and wait dna l my father wakens; perhaps ho may
no longer be mi i erse to see his child," also added, in a
14trt4 tone. 'Then, taking her boy by the hand, she was
ushered by Harr l is into tho house. What a crowd of re
collections rusi4d upon her as a' o o s neo more crossed
that threshold! IStweu years had rolled over her head
sinco she had s t foot within those doors, seven long
years of grief at d suffering had passed by: she had sepu
the hopes of he • youth fade away one by lone; also had
wept with bitter tears for the deaths of thole dea l rer to
her than life itse I; poverty and misery hadpressed hard
upon her; she had borne a father's anger a sister's InS
glect: and yet she still lived once snore to enter those
walls.hut how eon to leave Omni sho knew not. With
a feeble step sh. ascended the staircase up' which she
onco used to Lou
splondid suit o
of furniture see
costumed order,
d so lightly; slowly she passed through
drawing-rooms,—uot a single article
ed bbanged,—overything was 111 its sc
ut there. was a chill, uninhabited air
about all the ap rtments, as if *they had been long de
sorted. She tur od into what had onco been her own
boudoir there st n
ood her harp in its Wonted place, but
many of the stritigs were broken; her favorite books lay
.1
scattered on the
, tible; shotook up one, and instinctively
opened it at the title-page; her name was inscribed Twit,
with the additiont of la few words of tenderness in the
wellknown hand 1 :of Sydney Hamilton. Harris, on see
ing hei enter the.boudior. had considerately drawn' aside
the little boy, mules the pretence of showing hint some
of the pictures i l n ode of the drawing-rooms; and Lady
Louisa, finding hrell alone dropped on the soft, and,
yielding l to her emotion, wept long and passionately.—
The child heard his mother's sobs, and. breaking from
Harris. he rushed into the room, and, throwing his little
arms around her neck ho kissed !wrth, cheek and brow:
and without quesiioning the cause of her grief—for ho
was but toe often used to see her weep—ho gently mur
mured soft word of soothing and consolation.' In the
meantime. Harriet had gone down stairs, and confiding
to the hOnsekeeptir Lady Louisa' presence in the house.
the old woman ali most speechless from surprise and de
light hastened to the spot, and with tears and blessings
kissed the hands of her beloved young mistress. When
her joy had a lithe subsided, Lady Louisa anxiously in
quired whether her father still slept. lie was not yet
awake, ttnd, noabie to contain her impatience to see hint,
rho determined tot go to his room, and those wait byl hip
bedside till he awoket and, taking her son by the hand,
shii followed Harris with a faltering step to the dotl of
the apartment; it was softly opened and ste'alingin, she
placed hot - Self close by the bed; while the child, scarcely
daring to breathe. r oe his mother had told him ho must be
quite silent stood motionless by her side. And she was
once more in her fathers-chamber—once more she
watched beside hie pillow; she could distinctly /hear his
breathing. but she l dare not draw aside the curtain even
to look upon him, lest she should disturb him, and with
a wildly heating heart she sat silent as the grave, waiting
The moment of his wakening. At length ho moved, and
withotit opening the curtain he called for his accustom
ed draught. Lady Louisa fitt the decisive moment had
arrived, and conqu'oring with a powerful effort the ento•
lions thnt almost ov ercome ercome her,. she signed to the •child
not to move. and softly rising from her seat, tank the glass,
and advanced to ta me bed. Per ono moment the 41,4.1 man
gazed upon his daughter in silence. "My childS my
childt" k.e at last exclaimed; and in an• instant she was
clasped in his arms! •
Thanks to the care and tenderness of the once despis•
cd and forgotten, daughter Lord Annandale wee ore long;
restored to health. Never during his illness had Lady
Denysford seen hint. and very rarely had she even sent
to inluire of him: entirely devoted to extravagance and
ctissipniion. she eared for no ono earth beside herself;
and her unfortunatia husband, of whom ho she made a
mora.cypintr, discoiereif, but too late; that it is a great
mistake to imagine, that one sister Rill do just as well as
another for a wife. ' •
Lord Annandale' lived for many yawl:. hie home once
ware brightened with the preseuco of his grandson, to
whom bp became passionately attached and who, at Ow
old man's death, inherited the greater part of Ws fortune.
—London Kcersokefor
Tun riumszoisT DEPIANOM.
I=
Thou shalt not rob me, thievish Time,
Of MI my blessings, all my Joy;
1 have some Jewels in my heart,
Which limit art powerless to destroy.
1 Thou may'.t denude my arm of strength,
- And leave my temples smiled and brim;
Deprive mine eyes of passion's light/
And scatter silver o'er my hair;
But never white a book remains.
And breathes a woman or a child,
Shalt thou deprive nue. Whilst I live,
of feelings fresh and undefiled. 1
No, never while she earth is fair, ,
And reason keeps its dial bright,,
Whrtie'cr thy robberies, 0, Time,
Shall I be bankrupt of delight.
Whate'er thy victories on my frame,
Thou enlist not cheat lute of this trtntt—
Thai though hue limbs may faint and' fail,
The spirit can fellow its youth.
SO, INC% WI Time, t rear thee not;—
, Thotert powerless on this heart or mine;
My Jewels shall belong to too;
'T is but the settings that ail thine..
Evening Lectne e of Betty Jones, Concernin
Newspapers.
[We catch this on the rounds not knowing which
nrbrethern is to have thi credit, of reporting the lec
nre.]
Well, Jones, you are a prody fellow—you'vo corn.
home as drunk as a biled owl, and you don't know your
self front four dollars and a half. The children aro cry
ing forlbread, their eloihs are worn out; and here I hay:
to slavi, blave, slave tho whole / blessed day, till I hay
not a Whole rak to my back; and what there ie, Sticks a
tight to mo am the skin does to the model artists old Mr:
Smith tolls about.
"lire must retrench!" Retrench, indeed. I'd liko t •
see what you'd retrench about this house, except v;ttle:
and cloths; and I'm sure we've none to spare in them re
spects. You wouldn't want your own flesh and blood t.
go naked and hungry, would you? 'You're too nitwit o
a man, if you bo an old brute, Jones, for that. —lf:y4fite
•k cep to your wcuk, and mind yohr r.O a liminess, be ,tea
dy, and stop your drinking doing all day and sprocing ul
night, times wouldbe aheap better for us. You aint th
man;Joneso on was when I give you my virgin affections •
von don't come into the hotiso modestly, and lift eIF von •
hat, and say good evening, Mss Ilettv, and draw you
chair close up to mine, and then take - bold of my han
laud kind of blush, and then hitch up a littlo closer'
and
"Don't make afoot of myself.!" I aint a going t.•
Jones: but it sort a does my old heart good to call m
those remistmesses, and wish Ihad always been so. IN
you uro as tender-hearted as a turtle dove, and just a.
sensible; when you have any sense, us ,any body. So.
down. Jones, and eat your supper, and tell me all the
news a fly
"You're stopped the paper!" You he, ,Jones: you
know inu itotOci a atopped tbo obilgron's
vou'd a
"You afford Aint yota got no conscience,
Jones, to lot on e.o? The paper costs you four cents a
week. and the printer tak . es all kinds of truck for pay.—
And bore it is Saturday night, and Pd like to how
much money you've thrown' away this week. I'll count
it up. I'll give you a blessing before I got through.. It
aint orlon I catch you at home, anti when I do you'll
take it for beefier or worse, as the saying is. There's a
gallon of whiskey on Monday morning, costs 37{ cents;
there's a.half gallon of beer on Tuesday, costs 18 pence;
filer's a shilling to treat that old thimmix that come along
and said he knowed yen when you was a boy. The
Lord only knows how tench you've bperit to-day; it must
have took a heap of change, for you nine an old sponge,
Jones, you don't get drunk on any body's money but
your own; and! reckon it must a took at least a quarter
to make a man drunk enough to stop Ws paper. Kell,
now, I'll go and count it all up; three shillings and eight
een pence, anti ono shilling and -n.qnarter just makes
ninty-four cents. In my opinion as good as that very
sum thrown into tho fire, Mad better, too; and that z would
a most paid for tho Telescope it whole year; and 1 expect
the printer needs tho money as bad as most folks.—
There's a power of econoiney in such doings. Why
what would ebOdy know if it was n't for the paper; and
now, too, when there's so ninny parties, and a body
wants to know how to vote?
"Itiromen don't rotar Wlll, I Know it, and it's a
great pity they do n't. They'd revolutionize till+ world
end have a provis'onary governmeut every where, as
they call p; and they'd— they—would n't kill off all the
men, not quite, cause they're useful in their places; but
they'd make them keep their places mind, 1 tell you,
Jones. But, as 1 was saying about the printer, we must
have the news; visey varsy. wo must have minter., and
if they livo without nothing to eat, then the) 're the crit'
ten that's in advance of the age, for the people of his gen,
eration make a god of their bellies, according to the beat
of their knowledge and belief. An other thing: I
shouldn't wonder if you stopped the paper and never paid
for it: and then you'll get published in the black 16. 1 1, and
your poor wife's reputation be ruined, and your children
go to the plenipotentiary. It won't do, Jones; it won't
do; and hotel she broke oft for Jones was asleep; r,
LADOIt IN ?III: UM - Fp STATES.--. 411. Do . Tocquevillo
has recently published an article entitled "All Honest
Labor is Honorable." in which ho remarlts:--;"In the
United States', opinion is not 'ogainst. but in favOr of the
T 1
dignity of labor. There, a rich- man feels constrz;ined by
public opinion to devote his leisure to some industrial l l or
commercial business , or some pnbliti duties '
tvoald
expect to full into diseciputa if Ito passed !di lifetndylin
living. It is in order 'to escape this i obligatien work,
(that so Many rich Americans chino' •EtiropM hero,
they find fragments of aristocratic society, among whom
it is yet creditable to do nothing or have nothing to do."
Tux Smoswr or Putxrr.rixes..—The New York 'crib-
I mo r eturns thanks to the lion. floWice Greeley for doc
uments. 'flls reminds us of a physician in England,
who always received hie feet on his visit, and so accus
tomed wets he to receiving n fee, that veitcn he felt his
own poise, ho took a guinea 11 . 0111 ono pookei yutl Flaccd
it in the other.— Worcester Spy.
EP They tell a story of a man 'mit West, who had a
hair-lip—upon which ho performed an operation himself,
by inserting into the opening a piece of chlehou
it adhered mid filled up the space admirably. This watt
all well enough, until in compliance with the prevailing
fashion, he attempted to raise tnustaches, when fate side
grew hair and tho other feathers.
ECT'•Wh e n a stranger treats me with want of re
spect." said a pour philosopher. "I comfort myself with
the reflection that it is not myself that ho slights. lust my
old shabby coal and shSbby hat, which, to, any tha truth.
have no particular claim to adoration. 80. if my hat
and coat chposito (rot about it, let thous; but it is noth.
ink to me."
Is mama Gon?--The eccentric John Raod'Aph once
ascended a lofty poipt of the flue Ridge to see the sun
rise. The urine was - ene of great sublimity. and it Over
whelmed him with the sense of a present Deity. "Jock."
said Randolph to the servant who , accompanied hM r. •'lf
'ay body hereafter says there is ao God, tell him he hat."
THE WHITE NILE
The January number of Blackwook contains en arti
cle of great geographical interest, reviewing Worne's
narrative up the White Nilo. pays the writer. "Wo
can conceive few things more exciting than such a voy
age as Mr. -\Verne has accomplished and recorded.—
Starting from the outposts of civilization, he sailed' into
the very heart of Africa, up a stream whose upper waters
were then for the first time, furrowed by vessels larger
than a savage's canoe-,-a stream of, such gigantic pro
portions, that its width, et a thousand miles from the sea r
gave it thi,o aspect of a lake rather than of a' river. Tho
hyppotatnua reared his huge snout above the surface.
and wallowed in the gullies that on either hand run‘dowit
to the stream; enormous crocodiles gaped along the
shore; elephats played in herds among, the pastures; the
tall gin% stalked among the lofty palms; snakes thick
as trees, lay coiled in slimy swamps; and ant-hills, ten
feet high, towered above the rushes. „ Along the thickly
peopled banks, hordes of savages showed themselves
gazing in' wonder at the strange ships, and making am
biguous gestures, variously construed by the '-it.inivinturest
as signs of friendship or hostility. Alternately sailing
and towing, as the wind served or not; constantly in sight
of natives, but rarely communicating with them; often
cut oft for days from 'the land by interzniniag fields of
tangled weeds,--the expedition. pursued its Course thro'
innumerable perils, guaranteed from mast of them by
the liquid rampart on which it floated: Lions looked
' hungry, and savages shook their sneare, but neither
showed a disposition to sWitn off and board the flotilla.
THE BATTLE OF LIFE
Lifo is a battle. The field is the world; and every son
of Adam has his pat tto act in 1117 great struggle. But,
of the vast host engaged, no two have, in all respects, the
s ame posts assigned them, though ever) one a post which
is of thel o greatest impel tance to himseif and to others. =
'rho battle of life, otherlihttles, is waged with vary
ing success. Ndw victory crowns a combatant; and anon
the victor beeonies Om vanquished. Hero; one fights
with the unflinching ardor of assured success; end there
another but languidly repels tho assaults of his enemies,
as if just ready to yield in the Hopeless contest; while
all around are to be seen the melancholy feuds of the
hard fought battle.
Who that has looked out upon the world rith a
thoughtful. ye. has itot realized that life is even so—a
battle. Who can have failed to see in every man round
him a combatant-L-men fighting for honor—for d'stinc
tions social or political; for wealth; for, business p e-em
inence! Ilow keen the encounter! hpw fierce t o con
test! and how many, after struggling, for a while, aro
seen to fall down weary and wounded; their :courage
gone, their hopes forever blasted: •
But why should it thus be? Why need men.thuabito
and devour one anotheriilike wild beasts? la there not,
room for all? May not all live and let others live around
them? Doubtless, if they would; and, they would if tho
Spirit of brotherly kindness nes possesqedand cherished ,
as it should be; but it is not, and therefore man wages
war with his fellow man as thonghlui wore by nature
his enemy rather than his brother..
NAPOLEON'S HEARN.
' When Bonaparte died, it is well known that his heart
was extracted, with the design of being preserved. The
British physician, who had charge of the wondrous or
gen.' had deposited it in
. a silver basin, among water, and
retired to rest. leaving, two tapers burning beside it in his
chamber. He often confesses to his friends, while nar
rating the pirtiettlars, that he felt verY nervously anxious
as to the custodier of such a deposit, and, though ho re
clinedl ho did not bleep. While lying thus, astatko, ho
heard during the silence of the night, first, a rustling
noise, then a plunge among the water in the basin, 11411
the'n the sound of an object felling, with a rebound. on
the floor--all occurring with the quickness of thought.
Dr. A. sprang from his bed, and the cause of the iutrit-.
sion' upon his repose was explained---it was an enortneus.
Normandy rat dragging the heart of Napoleon to its
hole.' A fow moments more, and that which had hoe.%
too vast in its ambition to satisfied with the sovereignty
of continental Europe, would have been found in a more
degraded position than the dust of Caesar stopping its a
beer-barrel—it would have been devo , nred•rts the supper
,of a rat! "To such vile uses must we come at last!"
TERRIFIC THEORY.
Professor Sinorm mentions the fact, that in boring
'the Artesian wells in Paris,.tho temperature of the earth
increased at the rite of one degree for every fifty feet, to
wards the centre. Reasoning fromvastsesknown to ex
ist, he says;—"The whole Interior portion of the earth.
or. at lest, a great part of it, is nn ocean of multedlock,
agitated by violent winds, though I dare not f ollirm it, it is
still rendered highly probable by the phenomena of vol
canoes. The facts connected with their 'eruption havo
been ascertained and placodheyond a doubt. How, then,
era they to ho accounted for? The theory, prevalen t
.oltie - years since, that they are caused by the combustion
.1 immense Coal hOs, is perfectly puerile, and is entirely
baudoned. All t coal in the world could not afford fu
•l enough for a si ngle capital exhibition of Vesuviits.—
Yo must' look higher than this; and 1 hato but little .
• oubt that the whole rests on tho aetion of electric ma
mlvanic ptincipleii, which arc constantly in operation in
ho earth."
Ltrma GR'AvEs..--Sacried places for puro thoughts and
cily Meditations are tho little graves in the ohmeh-yen!. ,
Phey are the depositories '
of the mother's sweetes t
oys—half unfolded buds' of innocence...l-humanity nipt
.y the first frost of time, ere vet a single cankerworm of
tollution had nestled amio , its embryo petals. 'Callous,
ndced, must bo the heart olhim who can stand by a tit
le grtivesido and not have de holiest emotions of his soul
wakened to the thoughts of that purity and joy which
1"
•elong to God and heaven ; or the mute preacher at his
cet tells him of life begun an C I life ended, without a stain.
low much purer and holier must bo the spiritual land.
nlightened by the sun of In nito Goodness, Whenoa of\
pt.,
noted the mil of that, brief 'oung sojourner /among us!
Liw swells the breast of the parent with mournful joy,
:bile standing by the cold earth-bed of our lost hub
4no! Mournful, because a sweet trease is taken
away joyful, because that pr i ecions jewel glittirs in the
!-
diadem of the Redeemer:- .
NSW' Tut: rltlXsT. — Tho Roy'. Father flrtrley, ono
lay, in a'sorsnott to his parishioners, rep t atea th e tr i te
ritiotation that "all flesh is grasi`• The season was Lent;
.titi a few daye afterwards ho encountered Toronto
coCollins. who appeared to have something on hie nllnd.
t
"The top o ' tho mornin' to your riverence." said Tor
e we; "did I understand your theme° to say. 'all flesh
i. grass,' last Sunday?"
! _
"Sure I did," replied the father; " do yon doubt it!"
"S ;rra I bit wouid,l • be after doubting anything your
a erence plans. but I wish to know wbetherin this Lens
ti o I could not be l ater having a atrial! piece,ot il.iVe by
i sy of salad?".
D
ILKAD.—"What is the chief use of asked an
-*nor at a recent school examination. "The chief
i. of bread." answered the urchin. appeareatly aaton,
hedat the simplicity of the inquiry: "the chief use of
flab. to 'read buttes ink !polarises QZ it."
1
1
NUMBER 41.