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\kzicatil .
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II DE
;SAMUEL WRIGHT, Editor and Proprietor.
VOLUME XXXIV, NUMBER 8.1
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Alhe•rl'lf/ fif.“.
seititicriu.
My Louisa.
Viewed by the light of my present esperi
„once, I am bound to say that the whole busi
ness in connection with my early engag--
meet to marry Louisa Lipppesley seems to
me to have been exceedingly imprudent. Of
,course now I am entitled to nsk myself and
,marvel over the inquiry, as every ono else
.did then, as to what I could possibly have
seen in her, or what she could ever have
seen in me, to induce either of us to enter
tain the opinion that our marriage was in
.any way desirnble. I may say this now, be
cause, as all the world knows, the whole af
fair has been broken off years back; because
_there is not now the slightest suspicion of a
•tendresse between Louisa and myself,—the
mention of such a thing even sounds ludi
crously; because she long ago married some
body else (I. need not:drag his came into the
matter,) and has been, fur all I know to the
contrary (may I say, without being deemed
a monster, core to bo contrary?) a good wife
to somebody eke, and a good mother to
grer• army of e:illtirer,; he
~,e of hay. !)ve..l cJin
old
bf),l t)r.
vrorn-ffit I:: fr;:.f,l
MIIIIMII
i .2 V7,lt
ti oul l'uoLitepi I ^,t,l
barn IL 1.4J1.11y , t 1.1 a 4 4, e.t:
nr , inyiw,l:. e,,,, e. ,t,n sore that
if in that old 1.1. , ,k,n tiff .iff,iir there lingered
yet the -ohille,t title of real feeling, it should
Irc , •!:se recognition from me. I would re
gard it as sanctifying, the whole, and not
rake with any pen in sentimental ashes while
they were still warm, but pass on quickly to
other and more indifferent matters. But the
truth mast be told—reticence on the sub
ject avails not. I never loved Louisa Lip
pesky; although, rash creature of nineteen
that I was, I did ask her to marry me, as
gin—bless herl—never careda button about
me, notwithstanding all she said to the con
trary.
now, then, came to pass our engagement?
Why did I gaze into the calm, light blue,
perhaps rather cold-looking eyes of Louisa,
and express, haltingly a devotion I did not
feel? Why did Louisa glance at my smooth
face (may I add, expressionless face? I
think I may, contrasting it with its present
looks of powerful intelligence and vivid sa
gacity; if the reader has any curiosity on
this subject he has only, to know precisely
the aura of man I am now, to call to mind
the picture No. 1943 in the Catalogue, "Por
trait of Gentlemen," by.P. Green, in the
last exhibition of the Royal Academy, hung
near the ceiling, in the north north east
room;)—why, I say, did Louisa thus glance
at me, whispering reciprocity she did net
possess, for a passion that bad only a Fip
poaitttious existence? It seams very unac
countable all this, coolly considered so long
afterwards. But it is best to say at once,
that it was all a mistake. We did not quite
understand what was tho matter with us,
We were young practitioners, and had got
hold of an incorrect diagnosis of our disease.
People before now have fancied themselves
threatened with gout they have been simply
suffering from chilblains. We took for a se
risme affection of the heart what was really
:but aNightjand evanescent irritation; and
the luck of the thing was, that no one was
a whit the worse for our misconception. It
bras an error without consequence; I wish
-Avery error was the earns. We were mere
;children, and we•played at being in love.—
;We played tio respectably. that fur a time
'everybody, including ourselves, thought the
play was earnest. They and we were the
'rnore'deoeived.
" yet ;Ile was decidedly pretty, was Louisa
T...ippeslep,:a. than might have been very
fairly and creditably in love with her. sup
,posing, of course,' that personal attractive
'nese in any, may justiStis love. Certain la
vie., i know, who justly, perhaps, pride
- ..themseliel - laitter 04 their prepossessiiig
-neve of their minds than of their bodies, de
-210111:100 steadily the possibility, of love being
;punded' upon so frail a foundation as a mere
- pretty face and •Sgure. Still, treating it as
• s man'aluestion, which it really iv, after
all. 1„ repeat , that a map might have 'been
vary . fairly in love with pretty f.entinst Lip.
pesley. The p^l; dittutuaty is my cues was
that, perhaps, at the time, I was !Jerkily to
he cussed a man; I was rather a hay
'Lduisa—my Louisa, I had a sort 4,1 right to
' call her then; ;just as LIIU. pevple say my
house, atthou. , h they , are only temporarily
is pow.esetun t ander . an alrpetermt for three
years probably—my Louisa was unquestion
able pretty. The next time you pass through
St. Paul's church-yard, look into the basket
of the man who stands by the offices of the
Religious Tract Society, and sells the most
lovely wax dolls that ever were seen,—Eng
lish wax dolls, that are only surpassed in
beauty by:English,flesh-and-blood women,—
look carefully fur rather n small-sized doll;
no, not that darling with the jet black eyes
and the profusion of jet black, ringlets; not
the brunette doll, Litt the blonde, with the
Bowing ambery tresses, the open blue eyes,
and the little red button hole of a mouth—
that's she; you see there the very image of
my Louisa Lipplesley—the Louisa to whom
I was engaged to be married, and whom, at
an early period of my history, I thought 1
loved devotedly—only that she had much
prettier shaped feet, did not turn them in so
persistently, was not stuffed with sawdust,
and never, that I am aware of, adopted sil
ver paper as an article of attire.
She was' the youngest and prettiest -of
four sisters, Jane Ann, Charlotte nod Ame
lia. With every desire to regard favorably
young ladies who were likely to become by
toy marriage closely allied to me, I must
say that I did not like very much either
Jane Ann, or Charlotte, or Amelia Lippes
ley. Perhaps,'ns it seemed to me that I had
given all my affection to Louisa, I did not
appear to have any ready balance for distri
butiot, among her sisters. Very likely they
intended to ho kind to both of us, and I am
sure they were very fond of Loui.m, even to
spoiling her, if that had been possible. They
always called her "pet," "darting," and
"Baby," and were always making much of
her, and kissing her dotingly, smoothing her
splendid amber hair, rolling her glorious
ringlets round their fingers, fondling her,
putting their arms round her waist and Jift
irig her off the ground—for she was very
little and light was Louisa. And she was
always regarded as quite helpless, a - 41 una
ble to do anything for herself. "Toms can't
To it, 11.11,y drat, let :ea," ell 1 vordy Juno
Ann. ••itle, no /dot trying, Pet, you
knots" C 6 tri.n . te "0 )0u
thin';
:t v , or•-eit ?"Armi.,t a erie i ii, w hen y
a 1 30
z I,fcioutlt.
,a.“ 5, t,01;IIJ
.114 (12,,y
10 it
h /Of. i'!". 1, weighed dewn by thee
L :a, hap
=III
nt ;or i was r i tt;t- ‘‘iiling to
atotudmi all effort to help ht!r,ell*. and to n'•
low her ,imers to mend her clothe:, or make
her dresses, or trim her bonnets, or 'finish
her drawings, or complete her dealt/ hour's
I practice on the piano, or accomplish her
singing lesson, or do anything else fur her
their fancy or desire to aid her could suggest.
One result of tlais gas, that my Louisa ap
peared to he wholly unoccupied from day's
end to day's end—doing nothing but lounge
about listlessly, and fawn occasionally in a
distressing manner. She looked ornamen
tal enough, it must be owned; yet it never
occurred to me, even in the mildest moments
of my imaginary affection for her, that my
Louisa was particularly useful.
The Lippesley's reside an Highbury. I
occupied apartments at Pimlico. How did
we become acquanted? Who introduced me
to the fan ily? I remember now, that I was
taken there by little Finkewood, who was
Mr..Lippesley's nephew, I believe, and at
the time was in the same office with me at
Blutkins nud Blogbury's, Bedford Row. At
an evening party at the Lippesley's I first
met my Louisa—in a white lace dross, with
a sky blue sash (sashes were fastened then
at the back, and streamed from a bow ofd
large size—l rellember thinking even on
my first introduction, that the sash was
well matched in color with my.,Louisa's
eyes.) Of course, seeing my Louisa, I fell
straightway in love with her, or thought I
did, and went home to Pimlico and dreamt
of her; and the very neat Sunday found me
at llighbury church, shamefully uninter
ested in the sermon, and outraging serious
ly the feelings of the beadle who had shewn
me into a pew, by my ceaseless movements
and wild endeavors to look around a corner,
and catch a glimpse of Louisa's fair face in
a white chip bonnet trimmed with forget
me-nots, her amber ringlets bursting out
in front in a wonderful decorative manner.
(For every woman then, I may say, wore
profuse curls in front, and no one would
have thought of permitting all her hair to
tumble out at the back of her bonnet—like
a sort of cushion covered with chenille, in
the present fashion, which I admit is pretty,
and would be more so if one could honestly
belieie that so much horse hair, in the form
of "frizzes," did not help to swell the che
nilled cushion.) "Flow I've been deceived
in that young felled" I'm sure the beadle
must have meditated. "I gave him a good
seat, right under the pulpit, where he ;nu
'ear no end—and only see how he's behav
ing—bobbing about like anythinkr In
truth, 1 thought the sermon-would never
finish; and I was contemplating the propri
iety of an Act of Parliament to limit the
duration of sermons, making it a penal of
fence fur any sigrgyzoan to be longer, than
ten mintitep in the pulpit. Bat of ;nurse, I
was relieved at last; and waited at the
church door, and removing a very shiny hat,
and inn series of my best bows to Mrs.
Lippetdey, and to the four 3/Ass Lippesleys.
'Hui" very . singularl': they all bald! a"
soon I found myself walking tuwards titre:
I house, and carrying:lll their church :ersi..o ,
f"t: thorn, and still mono dr~po_ratcly :u I we.
as I thought, with pretty Louisa Lippesley.
must 44 kmives.,si k teis the justice of
• saying, ost:front:the very firer moment
itae
"NO ENTERTAINMENT SO CHEAP AS READING, NOR . ANY PLEAISURF, SO LASTING."
COLUMBIA, PENNSYLVANIA, SATURDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER, 20, 1862.
I they quite understood my addresses were
-paid to her, and not to any of them - . Per
haps my feelings, while they did not admit
of much concealment, were not, on the other
hand, liable to much misapprehension. The
si.ters at once made way for me to walk by
the side of my Louisa, and were fond even
of obtruding opportunities for my conversing
with her. Probably, as the recognized
beauty of the family, she must, they felt, in
the first instance, attract far more attention
and admiration than they could ever hope
for. I think her superiority was so thor
oughly acknowledged, that they put away
from themselves all notion of jealousy or
annoyance that she, a younger sister should
be preferred to them. They couldn't resist
' teasing her, however, a little now and then
on the subject. I remember noticing occa
' siert:illy a good deal of nudging and whis
pering and giggling would go on among the
young ladies; and sometimes my Louisa,
hurt by too mach of this condact, would
look rather as though she were going to cry.
and would exclaim in a pained voice, per
haps a peevish voice. "Don't, J.itte Ann—l
wish you wouldn't:" or, "Be quiet, Clou
late—how can you?" or, "[lave done Ame
lie, do, or I'll tell ma. I won't be teased, I
won't." Then, if any of these remonstrances
came to the ear of Mrs. Lippesley, she would
cry out in rather a loud. glowing, I may
even say a gurgling contralto voice, accom
panied by much exuberance of gesticulation,
"What are they doing to you, my pet, my
treasure. my own sweet lamb? Como to me.
then, Louey darling. Did they tease it—
bless it—a sweet child; come to its poor,
fond mother,"—and so on. In this way it
soon became evident to me that my Louisa
was her mamma's favorite eh'ld, and that
the mamma was not a lady of any extraordi
nary strength of intellect.
Mrs. Lippesley was a widow, and had
been in that forlorn condition, I believe for
a considerable number of years. She had
long ago given over weeds, it seemed, though;
indeed, at the time I had the pleasure of
her acquaintance, it might be said that she
had decidedly taken to flowers instead. She
1:11 . et e,i a cry dee.watod style of head dress,
ail I..nk som,-I:ales :14 thaugh she hail been
t 11.,ral shower bath; an.l While
~f - Ui, it in their decent bad I...ige.r;
her head, others were dangling d. wu
her bark or streaming about all parts of
her dress. Frequently she woul•I mix straw
with for flowers, and look for all the world"
like It very mature Ophelia, rather over
I made fur her mad scene; while now and
then site would abandon flowers in favor of
feathers. I have known her also to havt•
made diversion at times in the direction of
velvet, spangles, steel beads and gold tut:-
eels. She was partial to color, and did not
care for insinuations or hints—or I should
say, perhaps, tints—so much as solid down
right assertions of it in the most positive
way. She thought vermillion far above
pink; and would not hear of pale primrose
while there existed a possibility of procur
ing a brilliant orange.
Concerning the late Mr. Lippesley, I was
able to' arrive at no certain information.
From the young ladies I could only obtain
the vogue statement, that their papa had
been "something in the City;" which did
not afford me any very definite idea 'as to
his occupation. To Mrs. Lippesley I did
not dare to put any question or offer any
suggestion on the subject. She always pro
duced her handkerchief, and betarved symp
toms of extreme emotion whenever allusion
to her late husband had been made; and as
I was quite sure that she was capable of hav
ing a fainting fit, or even of surrendering
herself to an attack of hysterics, I shrunk
from all attempt at dwelling upon a matter
likely to produce such terrible consequences.
Site was a woman rather proud of her
weak nerves and her sensibilities, and of her
liability to agitation upon slight provoca
tion. She abandoned herself to her feel
ings, and seemed happiest when gasping
and choking, waving her white laced hand•
kerchief, tears in her eyes, and thoroughly
surrendered to nervous excitement. "Bless
you, my darling boy," she cried to me once,
very shortly after my first introduction, "I
feel towards you as if you were my own—
own son." And she kissed me on the fore
head, almost violently, and shook hands
with me with exaggerated cordiality. Iler
hands were verylfat, and felt rather like pin
cushions. In my most friendly moments I
always had the idea in connection with
Mrs. Lippesley's bands. Au reste, I may
say, that she was fond of reading three vol
ume novels, of reclining on the sofa, and of
wearing carpet slippers. Of course, I soon
informed Flukewood of the footing upon
which I stood with reference to the Lippes
ley family. lie exhibited some surprise,
followed, as it seemed to me by a certain
feeling of gratification. lie simply said,
however,
'•You've got into a good thing, old follow.
I congratulate you, and wish you well out
of it. You'll save me some trouble, : that's
one thing."
I afterwards asce.tained the value of the
last part of his remark.
Certainly the course of the untrue love
subsisting between me and my Louisa ap
peared to run very smooth. No obstacles
were interposed. From the first, the object
A* nay introducing myself to the family
itatttl t Ile appreciated. I was a well
teoct‘edguu#t and a family friend, and al
most an accepted suitor before I had ven
tured to reveal to my Louisa how deeply I
imagined tl3t,ray passion for her was plow-
ing up my heart. Somehow, it seem
be all thoroughly taken for granted• by
everybody concerned, with very little effm t
on my part.
"She's a treasury!" Mrs. Lippesley wou d
sometimes exclaim, with a burst of emotion.
"She's my only darling child. ain't think
to take her from me—don't dream of par.•
ing us—don't, you wicked, cruel, bard
hearted noon. I should hate you; I should
indeed--oh!"—and then happily, tears would
come to herztiehef. Perhaps it WILS
natural that after this I should look out fur.
an opportunity of stating to my Louisa how
fond of her I supposed myself to b It did
not occur to me then, though I am fully
awake to the matter now, that perhaps, up
on the whole, Mrs. Lippesley was not pre
cisely the sort of woman one would have
desired for a mother-in-law, supposing one
to have had any power of selection. I
deemed her to be simply a good, kind fond
mother, of rather a poetic temperament,
and extremely affectionate towards me per
sonally. "Whatever you do," she would
cry, as I left the house—"whatever you do,
always wrap ut. Mind and wrap up—
there's nothing like it. My poor and
then again emotion interposed. The im
passion left upcn my ray mind was of
course that the late Mr. Lippesley had met
with death from her neglecting to wrap up
in a secure manner, and the conclusion I
found subsequently to bo literally correct.
I learnt one day, from Flutewood, that his
uncle died of delirium tremens; and I was
aware that it was often a part of that mal
ady for the sufferer to abandon and destroy
his clothes, and wander about without them
in a truly alarming way.
It was not difficult to obtain an opportu
nity for making a disclosure of my senti
ments to Louisa Lippesley. I had great
doubt, however, about finding her in a state
of mind appropriate to the purpose. I re
. member making a first attempt at a decla
ration, and uttering about a quarter, say,
of a proposal, one Sunday evening in the
summertime. Louisa was engaged in eat
ing a green apple in thePgarden; too much
engaged for she appeared to take no notice
whatever of my remark. Perhaps it was
rather feebly put and not very intelligible;
and so I was compelled to abandon the ef
fort until a more favorable occasion. When
I commenced again, city Louisa looked so
:ouch as though I were teasing her, and so
strong au inclination to cry arty expressed
in her face, that I loo;:e down, leav
ing my feelitigs only fragtnentarily express
ed. On the next opportunity I declared
myself as suddenly and the. mfg.',ly as
could. Louisa said simply, "I'll tell ma!"
and hurried away. I could hardly decide
whether the observation was to be interpreted
as an acceptance or a rebuke; whether she
was about to invoke a mother's blessing or
a mother's vengeance. I was soon relieved,
however, if it could be called relief, by Mli rs.
Lippesley's falling heavily upon me. and
fainting in my twins, with the words wur
muting on her lips, "fake her. Bless you
—you cruel creature. Oh, how could you?
Be happy. omy own sweet darling pet—
my treasure—my dear, dear Louey," &c.,
&c.
Of course. after that event, my Louisa
and myself were formally considered as el -
gaged, and people seemed to in.- to do all
they could to force tbia fact continualy upon
our attention, to thoroughly impress and
imbue us—not to say bully us—with it, and
make our lives a burden to us in conse
quence. I know I always felt somehow as
though I were branded like a felon, and the
word "engaged" stamped upon my forehead;
and I did not feel near so comfortable as I
had expected. Certainly I had a good deal
of my Louisa's society—perhaps, indeed,
rather ton much of it. The family made
quite a business of bringing us together.
The back drawing room was especially de
voted to the tenancy of the "engaged cou
ple," as everybody seemed determined to
call us. There we wore expected to sit and
talk and make ourselves agreeable to each
other for hours together. With every de
sire to be charmed with my Louisa, I began
to discover eventually that her strong point
was decidedly not conversation. In fact
alter one bad got through, and knew by
heart, and exhausted thoroughly the witch
eries of her blue eyes, her amber tresses,
her delicate complexion and her rod button
hole
mouth, there was not much else of my I
Louisa that was worth dwelling upon.
These advantages wore quite unexceptional;
but I felt after a time that perhaps there
was something more required. I bad all
the sensations of having dined off a souffiet,
very pretty, and delicate and nice, but
dreadfully deficient in substantiality. It
would have b•en as well undoubtedly, if I
had discovered all:this before I thought of
wresting my love for Louisa; and of course
I:could not breath a syllable of my ideas on
the subject to any one, and meanwhile the
family seemed to be doing all they could to
prosecute the unhappy young creatures Who
had made such a dreadful mistake about
their feelings. "There's nothing like people
knowing each other thoroughly before they
marry," Mrs. Lippesley used .to any; "it
saves ever so much trouble afterwards.
Bless you, my dear son!" and so she drove
us together to sit for hours in the back
d.awing room, wondering what we ought to
say to each other, and what we ought to do
to pass the time. Bow my Louisa yawned
during those interviews; and I'm sure I was
very often on the verge of sleep. I had al
ways to sit next to her at dinner, at tea, at
charch. If I accompanied the Lippesleys
to an evening party, I was chained to my
Louisa's side all the evening. ".0f course
you must not think of dancing with any
body else'."—so .lane Ann, Charlotte, and
Amelia Lippesley in turn exclaimed to me.
"You must not think of such a thing, or
Loney will be so.cogryl" and I believe poor
Loney was threatened by them with my
displeasure if she ventured to solace herself
with the society of others. So we were to
gether all the evening, dumb and sulky and
wretched; pointed at by everyoody as an
"engaged couple," and giggled at by young
people accordingly, and jested at freely by
elderly folks who had too thoroughly en
joyed their suppers; and in an entirely false
position, and ashamed. ' The love we have
imagined lasting as an edifice of stone seem.-.
ed to be melting away like a snow image,
and my Louisa and myself grew to ho very
sick indeed of each other.
Of course this is looking at the thing in
its worst light possible. There were times
when were rather less bent upon being so
mutually disagreeable. There must now
and then be a sort of pleasure in being in
the company of a young and pretty crea
ture such as my Louisa, even though she
had mental deficiencies and an inclination
to be peevish. I did, I confess, often enjoy
the fact of walking about llighbury with
my Louisa on my arm—the white chip bon
net, with its lining of amber ringlets, close
to my shoulder, and button-hole mouth coo
ing pleasant nothings, merely "Noes" and
"Yeses" as a rule, trying to believe that I
adored passionately, and was so fortunate
as to bo about to marry eventually, the wc
man of my choice. Still, this was quite in
what I may call the honeymoon of my en
gagement. There were after moons very
much less luscious in quality.
In time, too, I began to understand better
Flukewood's observation, to the effect that
I should save him -ome trouble. Ile did
not pay near so many visits to his aunt's
house after as he bad paid before my engage
ment to Louisa. "The fact is," he said,
laughing, my aunt wants:rather too much
attention." I knew in the end too well
what this meant. "You're quite ono of the
family now, you know, my blessed boy,',
Mrs. Lippe ley said to me once; "we shall
not treat you as a stranger, we shall not in
deed." At first I felt rather flattered by
such a cordial abandonment of all formal
ity; but I soon found it was not quite so
agreeable to be regarded wholly as a male
member of Mrs. Lippesley's flintily as 'I
had been anticipating. I don't know h. w
the late Mr. larmesley might have been
viewed, but I found myself considered in
the light of a superior servant to the family.
out of livery, and unrecompensed by wars.
I was porpetuary required to be in atten
dance on Mrs. Lippcslcy. Wherever she
desired to go, my presence was invariably
insisted upon, by way of escort; I was al
ways loaded with shawls, wrappers, muck
parcels and umbrellas. I was shit °rine
outside theatre doors at midnight, strug
gling to get cabs for Mrs. and Misses Lip
pesley; I was compelled at all hours iu the
morning to see the Lippesleys home to
liiglibury from erening parties in all quar
ters of the town before I could be permitted
to journey home to sleep at my lodgings at
Pimlico. I was once, I remember, running
nil night about Islington in the vain hope
of obtaining change fur a sovereign in older
to pay the cabman who had driven Mrs.
Lippesley home from en entertainment at
the house of a dear friend of hers residing
in Peckham. For one serious drawback on
the pleasure of accompanying the Lippes
leys in their pursuit of pleasure was, tha t
I had invariably to pay the cab-fares, and
it was this I found. that my friend Fluke
, wood so much less eolieitious for the society
of his aunt than had formerly been the
ease. "She's let me in awful, she has, tak
ing her to evening parties; it's your turn
now, old boy!" so he addressed me. "Take
her to Turnhatn Green next week; all right,
go in and win!" But the fact was going in
and losing; and that was what I complained
of. For my allowance, in the way of pock
et-money, was not very liberal, and, cf
course, I was bound to make my Louisa a
trifling offering now and then—a silver
thimble, a work-box, Moore's Melodies
bound in whole calf, a scotch pebble brooch
bog wood and Irish diamond bracelets, &c.,
and really I could not anrd to maintain .
this ruinous expenditure in respect of cab
hire without leaving myself positively pen
niless. It was all very well fl)r my friends
in the country to say that they did not un
derstand my expenses being's° enormous,and
to declinasending any further remittances
until next quarter day, Michaelmas-day.
What was Itodo in the meanwhile? How
was Mrs. Lippesley's cab hire to be paid?
and here she was proposing thet we should
all go to Ramsgate for a month, and would
doubtless leave me to pay the steamboat
fare for the whole party there and back to
say nothing of disbursements for donkeys
on the sands, hackney-coaches, bathing ma
chines, &c.
Ilow was all this to end? I am afraid I
must confess that my visits at Mrs. Lippe.-
' ley's house became at last less frequent;
perhaps I was haunted by the fear of lia
bilities fur cab hire I should be linable to
meet; perhaps also it must be said by a
strengthening conviction that my love af
fair had been a mistake. A sham senti
ment had been passing currant fur real; it
was time to detect and nail it to the coun
ter. Like one of those puppies which look
81,50 PER YEAR IN ADVANCE: S'2 00 IF 1 - 70 T TIT
so pretty and thorough bred in their ex
treme infancy, and eventually grow up into
very decidedly ugly mongrel curs, the loves
of my Louisa and myself, deemed to be so
genuine in the beginning, were found in the
end to be-simply most unreal and mistaken.
The charm of our passion was in its youth
fulnessathat gone, the only absurdity re
mained.
My Louisa went out of town, she was to
spend a month with some relations at Ports
mouth. We made some show of keeping
up a correspondence. • Poor creatures! We
deemed that we were bound to interchange
hollow, flaccid, feeble letters; but these
dwindled and dawdled. A month passed—
two months, three months, and for a long
time I had heard nothing of Louisa,- and I
had not even been to call upon Mrs. Lipp -g
ley; certainly my passion had very much
evaporated. Suddenly I met Mrs. Lippes
ley, with Amelia; they had been at a morn
ing concert at the llatiover Square . ms.
"It's not been my doing—indeed it has
not," M:s.
_Lippesley declaimed violently.
"What is the matter?" I asked.
"You've not heard, then! Ah, I must
break it to you. My poor Louisa—she's
engaged to be married—Major—, the
B 'nnbay Artillery—a dreadful man! prom
is mo you will not seek to injure him."
Fervently Igave my word I would attempt
nothing of the kind.
"She's a coquette—l say it though I am
her Mother. My poor boy, I pity you from
my heart—lndeed I do. I can imagine your
feelings: but time will alleviate them. Al,,
the tears will come my blessed boy!"
I besought her not to distress herself.
"You forgive her then? generous heart .
I see you do! Bless you! (then aftera pause)
" Will you see mo into a cab? Thank you!
—Have you any silver?" &c.
I parted with Louisa's mother: my engage.
went was broken off'. I don't think Louisa
over regretted it; I am sure I did not.
Is it necessary to say that I did not chat
lenge the Major?
It was all an impudent business, and it was
very fortunate that we discovered in good
time how much we had changed our minds.
Superstition
Superstitions love darkness, and, like the
Trolls of the old Norseman, if light fall up
on them they die instantly. They used to
be very numerous and powerful, but many
of them lie in undistinguished graves; oth
ers exist only in memory; others are objects
of mirth and fun; while some still retain
their power to make people afraid. These
last mentioned are more potent than we are
willing to admit. They exert influence over
the very persons who ridicule them. They
have taken refuge in some innermost cham
ber of the soul which the light cannot pene
trate, and they will not be dislodged; their
victims cry "Avaunt!" but they cannot be
made to hear. As the sun is shining, we
may safely take a look at some of these
children of ignorance. Some of the old
chroniclers of curious things shall tell us
abort t them.
The howling of dogs is ,n hideous sound,
and we cannot wonder it wits suggestive of
I great griefs. IS is only less disagreeable
thou n woman's scream. It is placed by
Shakespeare among the portents, and has
' always been regarded as the presage of
death and dire evils. It is related that there
was a fearful howling of dogs the night k
iln.° Masimius died. The dogs of !tome,
by this melancholy cry, predicted the sedi
tion about the dictatorship of Pompey; and
before the massacre of the Misseunians, the
dogs howled as they had never been heard
to do before; and before the battle of Hast
ings the dogs ran about through the forests
and fields uttering,:the most prolonged and
plaintive cries.
If a dog howled in a neighborhood where
any one lay sick, it was considered the
prognostic of death. This superstition was
grounded on the belief that these animals
scent death before it smites a person, and
that wraiths are visible to them.
The owl occupied a place of honor and
importance in the religions of Greece and
Rome. Every movement and note of this
hideous and dismal creature were invested
with significance. The screech of the owl
was regarded as a fatal presage.
—When sc,each ovule croak upon the chimney tops,
Tie ceno;‘) then you of u co.ee mall henr."
Chaucer mentions this hoarse and horrible
sound among the omens of calamities:
, The Was swan vgen , t hys de:h that sisgeth,
The wile eke, thug of des!. 11. e bode brimse,h.,
And Edmund Spenser has the following
distich on the venerable superstition:
...The rue 'el stitch mill waning on the beere,
The whistler shrill,:hat who•o hears dual die:,
The raven was also supposed to feel the
shadow of coming calamity. The croak of
this 'bird portended death. It is stated that
one of those gloomy birds premonished
Cicero of his approaching death.
Crows were also accounted prophetical
birds. When flying in flocks they were
watched by the Roman with trembling, for
if they passed on the right hand they boded
good, if on the left, evil.
The flight of a orow over a house three
times in succession, with a croak each time,
was sure to be followed by death in the
family. An old writer was so profoundly
convinced of the prophetical powers of this
lover of corn, that ha expreszos the belief
"that Coil ehevreth his prevy couosayle to
erowes."
Several of the superstitions of the olden
time have been preset:Ted by salt. The
spilling of this indispensable substance has
turned many a ruddy cheek pale, and in-
[WHOLE NUMBER 1,67%
otantly silenced the most gleesome laughter.
llf by an unlucky accident any one over-
I turns the salt-cellar, tho-eye of e.n evil doom
is thought to be fixed upon him. And the
person toward whom the salt falls is also
supposed to be about to suffer some mis
chance, but this may be averted by having
wine poured on the lap or by flinging some
of the spilt salt over the left shoulder into
the fire.
The occult science of omens pronouncdd
the putting of a shoe or stock on the wrong
foot a moat unlucky occurrence. Throwing
an old shoe after the bridgroom and bride,
on leaving their respectire houses, was sup
posed to secure for the couple the most de
sirable blessings.
The custom of dreaming on vreddlng cake
dates back to a very remote period. A slim
of this charmed cake placed beneath tire
pillow was supposed to bring before the
inner eyes of the fair sleeper the person
who was destined to be her !urea lord..
It used to he customary in some countries
of Europe, fur the bride after she entered
her chamber, to turn and fling her shoo
among the crowd gathered about the door.
The person whu succeeded in getting it we,.
sure to be morried before many moons.
These occasions wero productive of much
noisy jollity. and this simple sorcery was
never omitted.
Superstition has always set apart certain
days as good and others as evil. Friday is
the most ill-omened day in the ealendar, and
there are many who still believe dirt the
fifth day in the week exerts a banefulinfiu
once upon fresh resolves and new enter
prises. The Finns never begin anything of
importance on Monday or Friday. Lord
Burghly, in a letter to - his son, admonishes
him against three Mondays. His lordship
specifies these evil Mondays, and assigns a
sufficient reason fur regarding them as un:
lucky: "The first Monday in April which
day. Caine was born ant kir brother Abel
Blaine; the second Monday in August which
day Sodom and Glom/more/a way d-ttroped;
and the last Monday in December, which
day ludas was born, that betrayed Saviour
Christ."
Sneezing has been discovered a good
omen from time immemorial. Prometheus
is said to have been the first to bless the
aneezer. The person who utter 1 this joy
ous sound, and received the benediction of
the fire-thief, was the men he had fashioned
of clay. Tho Rabbis tells us that not very
long after the creation, the Lord ordained
every human being should sneeze but once,
and that the soul should leave the body at
the moment of sternutation, but that the de:
cree was revoked through the supplicuticins
of the patriarch Jacob. When the King
Mesopotamia sneezes, the auspicious even t
is celebrated throughout his realm with ban
quet, dance and song, and every demonstre
tion of Joy.
We hare the following account of the Cus
tom of spying "God bless, you" when any
one sneezes. "There was a plague whereby
many as they sneezed dyed sodenly, wereof
it grew into a costome that they that were
preent when any man sneezed should say
'God help you.' "
The leaves of the Bay tree put under the
head were supposed to occasion plersatit
dreams, which never !idled to be realized.
Maidens in the north of England, whose feet
were impatient to tread the elysiftn' fields of
matrimony. used to open the Bible at this
book of Ruth, lay a sixpence 'between the
leaves, and place the book under their pil
lows, that they might dream of the men who
were to be their husbands: When a
sweetheart incurred' her displeasure, and
she wished to punish tlict.scu'rvy're:llow with
bad dreams, the angry damseiresorted to a
singular piece of witchcraft. She would
procure a bird's heart and . the moment the
clock struck twelve at night, she would
pierce it with a number•of pins. ' Her lover
would be sure to pass a restless night, espe
cially if he had taken a heavy supper.
The our ears glow and tingle :when any
body is talking about us is a conceit that
has come down from the ancients. Those
learned ocult lore tell us that when the left
ear tingles, the breath of slander is soiling
our fair fame; if the right, some one is
speaking good of us.
If the right eye itches without a canoe,
tears will shortly flow from it; if this sensa
tion is experienced in the other eye, we may
expect soon to laugh. If the cheek bums,
the interpreter of omens caution us to be
ware of the person who site on the glowing
side. The itching of the nose betokens the
approach of a stranger, and if the lips itch
we may hope for a kiss.
In the days of ignorance, the meeting of
a weasel was believed to presage some fear
ful calamity. When a sow with a litter of
pigs crossed the highway in sight of a trav
eler, it was accounted a lucky omen.
WIIERE rs Youa Borl—We saw him
last late in the evening in the company
of very bad boys, and . they :eaob• had a
cigar. And now and then some of, them
used very profane language. As we• looked
at your son we wondered if you knew
where ho was and with whom he associated.
Dear friend,do not be so closely confined to
to your shop, offico or ledger, as Ls neglect
that boy. 110 will bring sorrow into your
household, if you do not bring proper,paren
tal restraint to bear upon him, and tha,t
very soon. Sabbath and public school
teaching can help you, hnt you pttat. do
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