I:lCatial '11:1410
;-' TO " ANDAi
v-J
piaincsbrig Morning, October 13, 1317
...,
LOLISA STEINBEIiG :
_ _..
OR, THE RCN OF ST. LAWRENCE.
„,,
''CIIA.PTICR I.
' L' ' '• You have often begun to 'tell case what I am,
',. But stopp'd and left me to a bootless inquisition ; ,
Concluding—stay ; not yet I—Sims:sera=
II was a semi, beautiful aftermo' "n in Se-ptem
ri I-. in the year IS—, that land my friend Charles
ic`skins, crossed the Susquehanna river, on our
~, , c rney.from Philadelphia to Pittsburg. The route
r. - -., ? chose led us through Reading and Harrisburg"
:4. : Carlisle, at which place we were tomeet anoth
' fiend. and together pursue the remaind er of our
,:: •
1, 1;:l ev across the Allegheny ranges to Pittsburg, to
.g. ° '..{:- . ,, c hplace husaess of importance called us: Our
! ,, Irs e Atas leding us through the fertile and high'-
t:'S i cultivated country of central Pennsylvania,
- ; ,. !r e a system. or excellent farming combines
~.' Ft h•saciable 'soils, to abundantly renumerate the
„
'''' s ver for his toll . We did not expect to reach
'' ~::,de until the next day ; and having abundance
::nne to accompli. our wishes in that respect,
: e rode at leisure, occasionally stopping to catch
-; :: r.pses of the , rich and beautiful valley of the Con
: ~. oil. through which that stream was meandering
~,.
.1 : r a thousand graceful and, picturesque curves; or
• zize on the blue range of the North mountain,
• ..' r..e1l swept with a bold and rocky outline; on the
: :::as far as the eye could reach. Sometimes
46 stream and the mountain met, and there'the
~ with great labor had been lug in the precipi
-1 ~ in descent, exhibiting passes where the rocks
Fe on the right, piled in threatening grandeur,
.
#, :on the 'left, immediately below, the deep and
-.
:Igh Connedoit seemed ready to receive what
r should pass the narrow barrier which art had
-..
.aced from the mountain. But the slight dread
•a these places excited, was always instantly
oiled the moment they passed, and the eye Tee
n the finely cultivated farms and neat dwelling
. ; e: of the German- settlers, who occupied this
nue and beautiful valley. -
The heavens dare without a cloud, save that a
. ,lark pyramidal masses 'began slowly to peer
-.: heads above the-Mountain - a—field and forest
"lathed in the richest and brightest green—'
'. every turn of the rived glittered , in the rays of.
"irking sun, like moltenilver, as it wound
ray through the luxuriant Jarvests of the plain.
•By heavens! said Jenkins, 'with animation,
..is is the qu i st beautiful country I ever taw !"
I , certain i ly combines two features which in
, punont are indispensable to the beauty of a
--4a;le—quietness and sublimity." - I replied.—
„ Ike out the mcnintain, with its rocky peaks and
re , ible precipices, and sdbstitute a country
, ;rui on our left,. and however luxuriant the
might appear, the general effect would be in
e.... '......
:.. • -y and tame:ness.”'
if either, must be struck out, strike ut the .
•1-aip. I say, " replied Jenkins ; "although I
cowledge that one tires of a succession of ob
--recicelv alike. It is like. your good uncle's
'.fr, at Kensington, where everything is arrang
,wah such regularity that the old gentleman
tancy all rules of gardening Niiolated;.if a cab."
or ruta-biana, had not a bnither." -
Jetiltins. you are Severe on. my -uncle i though
he here,, he would be df your opinion, and
. 4 .emn that magnificent' range at once. He al-
T. contended that mountains were useless ex
'ences, that deformed the fair face of naiure."
Ic he is displeased with mountains; hd wintld
illy die of displeasure in this region of Penn
-anta,.. answered my companion, " though 'to
:he truth such vallies as' thiS of the Connedoit,
alniost . ,,reconcile orie to their existence.—;
'me a German for a land' hunter ; no matter
ligh the mountains, or secluded the
is a nook of good land he is , suite to find it
The
,permans certainly deserve credit for their
in this respect," I replied ; " in New York,
Mohaw)c, on the Schoharie, and-on the WA- -
' , Nen , you will find abundant evidences of
inre.lght, in the
.selection of their planta
,.
-h" interrupted Jenkins, Vwh wander to
.I .qhawk or the, Walkill 2 just to dk before us—
tilted to give a friend of mind an idea of par
° I would have him stand here where *e are
I wanted to show an English farmer appe
of finft'ned.farrning I would send him to the
t-of the Connedoit ; it I wished to get a wile
'could never allow a particle of dirt about me,
of the premises, I would select. a Ge,,,rman
eYeli lass, from some of these neat white man
:, in the Conneckiit ; if—but heavens ! What is
• ride for dear life, Conway, or we shall be
' 3 ' to destruction together !"
'ere was, indeed, no time to lose. The heavy
'bleb shad fallen two days previous, or sortie
bpd loosened. from its bed, one otthose
15 which overhung its cliffs, high — up the
skit. ; and at the very moment we were
na pathway below, is commenced its
bearing before it stones, rocks,
Id°
seg descent,
which taken root in the ptoject
-43
- Our first warning was a dreadful crash
ieafeaing roar as of a heavy thunder—the
trembled on its base, and casting a glance
It teemed as if forest and precipice were
together to overwhelm us. Out good
're instantly put to the top of their speed,
Was hopeless : and the last I recollect
feadful moment, was seeing a rock, which
47e weighed tans, broken in its downward
bY a projecti ng cliff, and the piece, whirled
I . the air, or rolling and leaping with the ye-
A lightning, down the mountain, exactly up-
days afterwards, 1 found myself at the man.
4 hospitable German, who lived about hall
front the spot where the accident occurred,
a .
_ . .
. .1 . ...... - . . . . . . _ . 'a'
. . .
. . . . .
_..._:• . - . . _ .
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. . . . .. . -.. • .
. . ,
. '. -•- • ,
T H
~
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BRADFORD
.
r
REPORTER,
...
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_. • .
...
with my left arm broken, and the back put Of my
head severely bruised. To me those four days are
with those beyond the flood, for I was perfectly in
sensible of their existence. Jenkins escaped amidst
the shovier of stones, with only a slight contusion,
though hit horse was knocked down under him in
the melee.. Finding that there were signs of life
ahnut•me, though covered with blood and insensi
•le, be mounted my horse and hastened to the
nearest residence, .where he obtained assistance,
and tad me conveyed to that place, while medical
aid was immediately procured. On the fourth day,
I began to have a faint, a kind of twilight reeollec
ticni of what passed around me, though none sus
pected that such ;was the case. It was at first a
sensation of a simple existence, then a half waking
dream. There was a lovely creature that hovered
around me—applied cooling liquids to my fevered
head—carefrdly watched every motion of mine; and
ahhoughld was ratable to give the least symjimnlof
recognition, I even remember seeing the tearaldrop
ping fritter long silken eyelashes, as she hung
over me. there were men, too, who sometimes
assisted her, and one who she always me e t with a
simile, and who sometimes relieved her in her at
tendance at my bed side. Mmost every one has a
remembrance of seeing 'angels in his dreams; so
pure,. bright, heavenly and ,etherial ! such this beau
tiful being seemed to me, as with noiseles step she
glided about the apartment, or with affectionate at
tention "administered the healing draught. On the
forenoon of the fifth day, I tell into a gentle slum
cer, from which I awakened perfectly Eational.—
My dream had vanished, and were changed to re
• aline*. The angelic creature was still there, and
when I awaited to the , possession of my reason,
was standing near the bed, watching every move
ment with anxious solicitude. I was instantly sen
sible of the manner in which I had been injured,
and of which, before, I had a very indistinct im
pression; but I was unconscious of their extent, and
attempted to move.
You must not move," said the lady, in a soh,
sweet tone,. while her dark eye lighted up with plea
sure at th e expression which my countenance as-
Awned ; " you must not move : you are seriously
hurt, and your arm is broken."
" I believe," I replied, ' " that I have been the
means of occasioning you much trouble, though for
how 19ng a time, lam unable to tell ; but :" •
" Say not a word," interrupted the lady ; the
pleasure of seeing you so well, more than compen
sates for the anxiety we have felt on your account;"
aad'as she spoke, she stepped to the door of the
apartment. " Heerraan," continued she, "will
you come this war a mordent ?" and the gentle
man I have men ioned entered the room.
A glance at my countenance told him what she
Wanted ; and advancing tq the bedside, he kindly
pressed my hand, while he assured me of his hap-
piness at finding me so much better. He was ap
parently about thirty-five year of age; strong and
well built; a'high forehead, and penetrating eye;
but the notice I bestowed on him was momentary,
for the lovely being who had so deeply interested
me, was, while he was speaking, leaning on his
arm, and her bright eyes were lighted up with an
. expressicin whi4 partook of- love, and thankful
gratitude. When conversing with me they used
1. •
the English language,* when with each other,
the German, which, however, I well understood.
" May I know," said I, " to•whom I am indebted
fdr this kindness 1" ‘.
" To those who are happy in being able to show
it, when needed," was the gentleman's reply.
" Thal answer is'sufficien for my thankfulness;
but the name of my benefactors I must know aL
so," I said.
'rtrur names," he replied with a smile, " ate
Heerman and 'Louisa Lowendorif." •
Stall .vas not satisfied ; an irresistible impulse
hurried me for Ward, and I added, " a brother and
sister, I am to suppose I" hoped, the word would
have been, had
. a full utterance to my feeling been
given.
“.No,“ answered the gentleman, smiling, while
his arm fell round the slender waist ot the beauti
ful. Louisa, and she appeared to lean with still grea
ter affection upon him—" No" we are connected•
•by a tie more powerful and endearing than that;
is it not so, my dear Louisa?"
" 0 yes !", she answered : and as her sparkling
eyes met his, they spoke more than words.could
hare done.
Louisa Lowendorff, at that instant, appeared one
of the most charming creatures I had ever seen;
her dress was exquisitely neat—an emblem of the
purity of her mind—and_ admirably adapted to her
fine figure. Her eyes--until that time I had deem
ed it impossible that those deny person could have
combined such loveliness and sweetness with such
brilliancy : the saying of the Arabian, that the " ea
gle might have pmved the eyes of her young by
_them," would npt in her case be hyperbolical.—
From the gentleman I learned that Jenkins, after
assuring himself that every care should be taken of
me, ar d that,l should want for nothing, had on the
third day proceeded on his journey ; and thus the
failure of our enterprize, which in my first. moments
of reason I had feared. ) was, I hoped, effectually
prevented.
4
onAibvica.
But a few days had elapsed before I was able to
j
sit up, and • mingle with the family circle ; and th
days I spent there wi ll long be remembered by m
as some of the happiest of my life. Mr. Low -
doff( and his amiable wife, had, I found, been mar
ried about three years; and one little son, a spright
ly, active child, had formed another connecting link
in the chain of mutual affection, by which they:
were united, Louisa did not appear to be more
than twenty-two, altheughrshe might have) been
older. There was something in her countenance
which forcibly reminded me of some use,' had
seen in by-gone days ; and I was constantly,. when
in )ter presence and company, which was much
PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY, AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNV, PA., BY E. S .
"For every 'inch of wawa, in Odeon:08
Aye, every dram of vroingeht is Wee,lf ehe be."
W [ Napa TALL
U litZoisßOLgas or DENincmillON Mit m QUARTER."
the greater part of the time, haunted with the idea
that I must have seen those beautiful features
thtiugh where, I in vain taxed 'my memory to as
certain.
Lo*endorff, Louisa and myself, were one even
ing'sitting in the parlor—Francis climbing upon my
knee and amusing us with his innocent prattle—
Louisa at intervals, gratifyingluswith some of those
touching airs for which the German musicians are
se . justly celebrated, upon .fine a toned piano, or lis
tening to Lowendorff, who read for cur amusement
in a German periodical, which he had that day re
ceived from Europe, via Philadelphia. I had seen
the same volume in the city, and when not partic
ularly interested by it, was reading in a much more
beautiful volume, the countenance of the chairing
Louisa. She, however, was unconscious of the no
cite she received. and busily engaged with her tam
bour frame and needle, was listening to her hus
band. The light shone strongly on the side of her
face—a few loose curls were waving around her
white neck—there was a feeling of sadness depic
ted on her countenance, as ins deep and glowing
colors the writer described the sufferings of hia he
roine, which I had not before seen—and the thought,
that in the nun of St. Lawrence, at Vienni, I had
seen the lovely being who \was then before me,_
flashed across my mind, with all the convictions of
undoubting assurance.
"The mystery is unravelled," said I as Lowen
dorff closed his book.
" What mystery ?" inquired my friend.
" I have been racking my memory these two
days," I replied, "to discoVer where I first saw
your Louisa, for confident I am, that I have met her
before."
" Yon say the mystery is -solved," answered
Lowendorff, laughing ; "we should be glad to
know where it was,"
" If it is not an absolute impossibility," I replied,
" I should say it was at Vienna, and in the nunnery
of St. Lawrence."
" There is nothing impossible in it," said Louisa
" if you have ever vibitect that plae."
" I Was in Europe, four years ago," I answered,
" and in passing through Germany, from Hamburg
to Trieste, I spent a mouth in Vienna."
Did you visit the nunnery you have mention
ed ?' inquired Louisa.
" I did, repeatedly," I answered " and not mere
ly from motiver of curiosity ;—there was one young
nun there in whose fate I was deeply interested ;
and that person, unless I am much mistaken, *as
Louisa Lowendorff."
•' I shall always recollect the circumv/ances," I re
plied, as Louisa took from her bosom a portrait, and
handed it to me.
" It is the same, said I, as I looked upon it, " the
portrait of a sister, dear to me as life, and which I
would noj have parted with to any one It h o less
resembled her."
" My dear Heerman, we too have made a disco
very," said Louisa, smiling; " for our friend, it
seems, is the .very American, (Englishman t we
called him then,) to whom we owe so mucblor
his kind aid in enabling us to escape, and the per
son of whom you have so often heard me'speak."
They both arose and took my hand I was sur
prised. .
" T 43 you," said Lowendorff, " I owe home, con
tentment, and wealth ;_and fnore .than all, the pos
seasick' of this fovely creature ;" "and I," continu
ed- Louisa, "the escape from a destination dread
ful death, and the happiness I now enjoy."
Francis their little eon, witnessing the emotion
of his parents, ran to me, and clasped my other
" See," said Louisa, " Francis has come to as
sist us in discharging our debt of gCatitude ;' as she
stooped and kissed the sprightly boy, a tear drop
ped upon the hand which. the child still held.
" You must explain," said I after a silence of a
minute, in which I endeavored to recollect what
could have given rise to a scene of such evident
feeling.
" You have'not forgotten that, when in Vienna.
as you was passing down the Prater, -one after
noon," said Lowendorfi, " you met some soldiers
who had seized a countryman,. and 'were hurrying
him to the rendezvous of a regiment then under
marching orders for Italy. You cannot have for
gotten that he requested permission to speak, with I
,you—that you promised to assist him—that a hand- 1.
ful of silver from your pocket postponed their march
for an hour—and that in that time, by your interpo
sition with the chief of the department, and by the
judicious use of another handful of silver, I was set
at liberty."
"Those circumstances I remember well," I re
plied, " but I little thought of meeting that country
man, in my friend Lowendorff. 1 was disposed to .
listen to your application, because I had seen you
bring a basket of wild flowers as a present to the
individual in the nunnery, wbo had interrested me
so deeply.
" Ever my better angel," said Lowendorff, with
a look of affection on his charming wife. "To
have made application in my own name,would have
mined me forever—redress would not only be de
nied, but imprisonment for life would have been
the consequence of the disclosure of my name—in
that dilemina I saw yon—l knew you to be a for
eigner—distracted with the fear of lasing my Lou
isa, I determined to address you and implore your
interposition—l ventured and succeeded. It was
my intention to have given you any recompense
you could ask ; but I - could not find you dad that
afternoon I left Vienna forirter."
" In contributing to your happiness, I have been
abundantly recompensed," .1 replied ; zc but how
did you succeed in releasing this fair nun
breaking walls and vows, which I fancied bid de
fiance to lovers, or I might have been tempted to
do as you have done l""`
You shall hear the whole," said Lovrendorff,
r but Tv to night, for we have already, in the inte-
Twe lee in the subject, forgotten your weak-
new."
4.-- „ ,. A
12111
I felt that be had spaketi the truth; and kissed
him and Francis, and wished them a good even
ing, retired to my ropiii; but it was not to sleep,
until memory had called up, and ran over the hia
tory of my apquaintano with the beautiful nun of
St. Lawrence. Thaejincident had never been
erased from my memory, and the recollections of
the lovely creature I then saw, had furnished the
MATERIAL of many a delightful waking reverie, or
enchanting visions.
I was on a tour through Germany, and though it
was during the heightb of the struggle between re
volutionary France and the Austrians,' was as a for
eigner, and provided with letters from both the
English and Ruaaian governments, permitted to
pursue t hiy object undisturbed. The high expects
lions Iliad formed - for the Austrian capital were not
disappointed, and the magnificent streets, with their
ranges of palacestlie splendor of the court and •
the nobility--land the attractions furnished by the
literati, and the beauty of the suurrounding country,
rendered Vienna one of the most pleasant places I
had yet seen. The women too—l have seen Ital
ian women, French women, and English women,
but I have never seen women more really beauti
ful, than may be found among the higlier ranks at
Vienna. Americans are prejudiced against the
Germans, as a standard, of female beauty and per
tection ; but we have not seen them under any cir
cumstances favorable to the development of their
charafter, that respect. A more firm, attached,
noble-spirited, generous female cannot be found,
than the ell educated German lady : and any per
eon who' will leave the Prater, that favorite resort
of the Austrian nobility, when the season calls forth
the newer and beauty of the capital, without being
convinced of the truth of the above remarks, must
have less predilection for sparkling eyes and fine
forms, than myself. Although, owing to the war
which was then raging,. strangers to the capital
were frequently viewed with suspicion, yet my sit
uatien,wa..l such, that I soon found myself perfectly
I_oe - ray:ease. and my reception was rather flattering
than otherwise. Amongst the various places I vis
ireet; was tkik.-,01 finery of St. Lawrence—a noble
and spacialtAuilding, devoted as a religious house
to the rece e tion of females from the first families
in the empire, who of their own choice assumed,
or, as is frequently the case in Catholic Countries,
were compelled to assume the veil. I was accom
panied by a young lady, the niece of Count Wald
berg, who volunteered to be my cicerone. The
count's carriage, set-us down at the door of the con
vent—we were admitted without hesitation, and
conducted to a large and elegant apartment, devo
ted to the reception of visiters. This apartment
was furnished in the best_ manner, and was separa
ted from a spacious hall, only by an open parti
tion, made of polished rounds bf wood, about an
inch in diameter which extends from the floor to
the ceiling. Sofas were placed against this slight
separating railing on both sides; and through this
partition all intercourse between the residents and
their visitors was carried on.
" I shall show you some of the loveliest females
you hare ever seen," said my fair companion, as
she rung the bell ; "but I must caution you against
being captivated by any of them," as we good
Catholics should deem it a mortal sin to do so."
or You need be "under no Apprehension on that
account," I replied, in the same tone of raillery.
which Theresa hasasstimed, "so long as there are
such sweet flowers blooming in the parterre, I shall
not think of geleeting from the pale tenants of the
shade."
At the pummons of the bell, a well dressed mat
ronly lady appeared in the hall, and requested to
know our wish.
" I would wish to speak with Louisa Stien
berg," replied Theresa, " if she is not employed ;"
and the woman left us to commuaicate the infor-
mation
" I have selected Louisa in preference totthe oth
ers," said Theresa, " because she is my favorite,
and beeides she is so lovely and amiable—but here
they eciilie."
They did so indeed. The matron was accompa
nied by three young ladies who each addressed
Theresa in the most familiar and affectionate man
ner. I was introduced as an American gentleman,
to each of the tair nuns in succession. I had no
difficulty in entering into conversation with them
—they were intelligent and inquisitive—and to an
inattentive observer, might have appeared in the
garb of perfect content and happiness. With the
. ordinary topics - 6f.the day, I found they were well
acquainted, and that circumstances confirmed the
information Theresa had previously given me, that
they had greater privileges mid more liberty than
was .tfsualy allowed to such fair recluses. The
. young ladies were all that would be termed hand
some: but the one introduced as Louisa, was I
then thought, and * still think, the loveliest female I
had ever seen. Her dress was a white muslin
'robe, fastened with a girdle secured by a diamond
clasp—a necklace of pearl was around her neck
a light borber of Brussels lace shaded a most most
bewitching bosotn—a wreath of buds confined her
luxuriant and polished tresses, and her eyes spar
kled from beneath their long silken lashes, like the
diamond.
Seating ourselves on the opposite soft's, a pleas
ing conversation ensued; and after a little time, I
contrived to place myself opposite to Louisa, while
Theresa managed by a skilful discussion of some
matters in which they were much interested, to
withdraw the attention of the matron and the
two young ladies, almost entirely from us. I con
fess I was not less charmed by the conversation of
Louisa, than by her personal appearanee. Unassu
ming, she was cheerful, though at times r fancied
I could perceive beneath her smiles, a sentiment
of regret, smothered, indeed; but still the source of
unhappiness. In a short time we were joined by
the others, and after a pleasant visit of an hour,
we took our leave, and Theresa and myself return
ed to our dwelling.
GOODRICH /6 SON.
CHAPTER 111.
"I may disjoin my hand, but not my heart "
KIS . I; lon't .
Strange as it may seem, the visit fo thy, nunnery
of St. Lawrence hail awakened a feeling in my
bosom, new glad delightful, and one I loved to in
dulge, As a matter of consequence, I felt myself
irresistably drawn to the place, and but two dayti
elapsed before my fair companion and myself
found ourselves in the building that contained the
fair Louisa : and I, as before was happy enough to
engross the company and conversation of Ahe fair
nun, who had so deeply interested me.
We were seated as before. Her white hand lay
on the back of the sofa as we were conversing—tbe
distance between the railings permitted it . and I
gently laid mine upon it.
" Louisa," said I, in a half whisper, as I did so,
" this'is not the , f place for Louisa Steinberg, you are
•
.unhappy."
Louisa started—blushed, turned her penetrating
eyes upon me, with an expression of half anxiety
and half entreaty, but suffered her hand to remain
in *mine as she replied—
" You are for once mistaken."
" No certainly I am not," I answered.
'" Then Theresa has revealed to you my—" she
paused.
" No," I replied, "Theresa has told me nothing;
but it needs not the gift of necromanty to' know
that such a being as you are, cannot be happy within
these walls.!'
" Happiness .is a relative term," said Louisa . ;
" it is useless to expect it in perfection, this side of
heaven ; and if we have the greatest degree that
circumstances admit, we ought to be cheerful and
•
contented."
" That, Louisa in philosophy," I replied ; " and
that is sometimes widely at variance with our best
feelings."
" I well know, - she replied, with a tone which
went to my heart. that it is some time at vari
ance with those feelinTs of ours which :re the
dearest, and which we must love to Cherish."
We were now interrupted in, a conversation,
which to me,hadloegun to assume an- interesting
aspect, by the elderly lady. who came towards us,
and said, with a smile; Louisa, you must dot
claim the company of this young- gentleman,
wholly to yourself; he wil) pardon us', if shut up as
we are froth the world, we-are all anxious to learn
what is pa 4 ssing in it, especially in his native
country, of which we Germans hear, much and
kno, little. I have however, understood tha t
there are fewnunneries in.the United States."
"Theresire, I believe, two small establishments
of the kiod,"- I replied ; " but we have not yet
enougli of the beauty, and grace which belongs to
the fair sex, dispersed over the country, to be able
to afford any ni it for'such a seclusion as this."
Thresa now joined us; and after. a lively conver
sation of half an hour we again teak our leave.
"If I had never before seen a nunnery, er wit
nessed the feeling and proceedings connected with
one, I have seen enough to day to convince mee'
they are productive of much mischief, said I to my
fair companion, we drove through the Prater,
on our return.
" We are never to expect unmixed good'in any
thing that depends on the human will," said The
resa in reply : and t know that sometimes while
the broken heart hides its grief within the walls of
a convent, it is not nnfrequently the case that they
are made prisons, in every sense of the term. For
my part, I could never think of such a seclusion
without: shuderring—those grates always give me
chills, gilded as they are." ' •
" A Catholic, and talk in such a heterodox Man
ner," said I smiling; -" I little expected to heat
from you sentiments so exactly in accordance with
mine, on this subject."
"Have you always been so prejudiced against
nunneries," inquired Theresa, with an arch look.
" Always," I answered, "at lear4 since I have
been acquainted with their pernicious tendencies.
You, Theresa, have seen some sweet songstress
shut up in a cage, and fruitlessly endeavoring to
escape—sometimes for a moment forgetting it tvas
a prisoner, and warbling forth those notes it
had sung when at liberty—then, with throbbing
heart, trying every wire, with impotent hope of
escape—such is the fate of many of those, who
like those we have just left, in a moment of delu
sion forswear the world, society and its charms."
" When you become more acquainted with these
institutions, you will think differently - of them and
their inmates," said Theresa.
" Never," I replied, with earnestness •,—" the
youthfulpoaarn will love-it was made for love-penes`
trate the walls of a convent, but there the
.purest,
dearest a affections of the heart, become the sour
ces c f remediless misery." ,
There was a most provoking smile 'playing a
round the lips of the sprightful Theresa, as she laid
her white hand on my arm, and said, " I am cer
tain that if you had not seen Louisa Stienberg, you 1
would never talk of nunneries, in such an ii pram-Geo
strain."
"You may laugh at me, my dear Theresa," I
replied " while I admit that the appearance of
Louisa has convinced ms, had I needed any shit g
farther to convince me that for a young and lovely
female, the convent is a prison : - and I have more
than half received to take her from it, if I should be
compelledo do it by force."
"Now ay the Virgin protect us!" exclaim - rid
Theresa; g here have I been in "our comitany
daily, for fortnight and yet you have Bever &ice
i
offered to ' n away - with me; whilttyou are4or bat
tering dow# the nunnery of St. Lavrrence. 44 ear•
lying off the charming Stienberg before 'you have
aseertaine4 whether she would be willing to leave
it." ..).' 1 ,
" too dlo me injustice Thsresa,'l I answered ;
" what would young Hapsburg say, were Ito pay
you the tribute of admiration you have mentioned,
'and whickl am sensible you deserve ?"
" Weand worse," said the young Austrian;
"now goi ' to play the flattering Frenchman ; I
rsi l
had hoped better things of your :140-American
characterl _ ~
" Still Theresa, you' wrong me!'
" you I respect—Louisa I pity." '
"And pity is the twin sister of
'I do not,feel disposed to dispute
" I knew I should drive you to the
last," said the laughing maiden.
" I could not have chosen a more
nor," I answered, pressing her hand
in my own to my lips.
" Louisa Stienberg, always e
Theresa's answer: "but you need n.
her as a rival." At this instant the,
pod at the mansion of %Valberg, and
The time allotted for ray stay
expired, yet I was reluctant to le
Theresa I hid fruquenily called at th
we were, by the lovely Louisa, aIA
with a cordial welcome. Still there
that my reception Iniwever affectie
same which would have by her beet
dear friend, who had manifested so
in her welfare. Theresa, I found. kr
of her history than: I did. Rept
an unfortunate attachment had driver
the fair recluse maintainted that she
veil, freely and voluntarily.
The last day of my residence in '
arrived. At four I was to leave it
passports were signed, but 1 could ni
ag:ain visiting Louisa; and early in
Theresa and myself called at the cl
was nothing of constraint in
at that place—the rank of 1
suspicion of improper motives—an
wore the appearance of as much
would the best mansion and soviet:
Louisa was there as usual—it was
she had insensibly acquired a deepe
heart, than perhaps, I was willing
feeling of sadness came over me, a
girl seated herself on the sofa, am
soft hand pressed in mine, with a
-that we were to be separated so soo4
" Lousia," said I, " to-day I leali
'Venice."
So soon ?" she answered, with
" My time, which I had devoted,
here, has long since expired," I an 4
could not being myself to leave Vi
ow I do' t with reluctance."
" You will sometimes think, wh n far avtly and
happy, of the friends you reft at Vienna ?" said she.
" Yes, and often—too often, must it be of the mm
of St. Lawrence."
Louisa colored deeply, but did not re em offended.
" Could I suppose that I should notbe forgiaton,"
I continued, "it would be a source of satiifaction,
which would much allay the bitterness of my regret
at our separation."
"You know little" of Louisa Steinberg'," replied
the charming girl ; _" if you suppose, she car ever
suppose she can ever forget the respect a stranger
has shown, or the .deep sympathy and friendship
he has manifested.''
- " Louisa," said!, " you are not happy: if I could
find the means of treeing you from this place, while
1 gave you your liberty, could 'On me your
heart ?" - • •
" Oh, it must not be thought of—my vow to hea-
Vert—"
" Name it not," I replied, interrupting her; "it
was involuntary—it was forced—it can never be
binding." •
Louisa warm hand was clasped 'in mine—she
dropped her head upon her bosom for a moment,
then slowly raised it; and when her - eyes met mine,
*lsar was trembling in them.
" Your kindness demandsa frankness," saidlhe t
"I will not _deny that this place is. not the one 1
should have chosen—l will not deny that I should
be more happy in society—in the world; and with
my friends; but I came here to avoid the worst of
slavery, and nothing shall induce me to premise
what I can never perform." She dropped her eyes
vhile she continued, " I would reSpect yoti.as my
deliverer—l would love ybu as my brother—bnt
mj heart" she hesitated.
" Is already disposed of—is no longer yours to
give, you would say, my dear Louisa 1" I sail, as
I finished the sentence.
a It is so," said the trembling Leuisa, " and why
-should I be ashamed to avow it,? ! He was r he is,
worthy of a woman's beet affections." •
An hour passed, but still I lingered ; I could not
tear myself away—l took`ftom myt bosom the, por
trait I have mentioned ; a - Lonisa,l said I, aLis I gave
it to her, " when you see that, yot4 will remeriber
that there is one who, whatever May be his desti
ny, will never cease to remember, with affection,
Louisa Stienterg."
She took it—united a white ribbOn which was on
her dress:—attached it to the portriit anfi kissing it
placed it in her bosom, saying, as she did so, that .
nothing but death • should erase from hoc recollec
tion, the affectionate remembranste of him from
whom it had been received.
The matron Who was in attendance,_ now ap
proached us as the bell chimed the hour for their
devotions.
" Farewell," said the lovely #irl—" farewell ;
may you be more happy than I have ever been, or
can be." -
I hastily kissed her hand--a►be I put it to her lips
-a tear 'dropped upon it—her white bosom was
heaving as if it would burst the, Muslin folds that
confined it—and with her hand (waving another
adieu, alit %big.
A:t
bit of m
polatoc— , boded
me, I c.
Never tread on the tail Al a woman
she's not handsome, unless you i itrit fond. of hearing
mu52C
" There's a kw more left," as th l i
he was told one of his wivee had
Da 1110
I an.stwered;
said Theresa.
of 2 replied.
eeafes74en at
ovety'eohres
whith I held
PePtedl'i was
t think I dread
Icaniage step_
we altightect
lat Vienna had
; ave it. With
le nunnery mid
.ays received
was a feeling
;nate was the
given to any
much, interest
eiv hula more
rt sta•ed that
her there; but
accepted the
ientra, at last
'for Italy; my
et go, without
1 the morning,
went., There
girt reception
jheresa forbid
r d every thing
I hospitality as
i• in Vienna.—
my last visit—
k. interest in my
allow ; and a
the beautiful
I found her
consciousness
and so widely.
this city fir
same emotion.
to my business
veered, "but 1
nna; and even
the first
a roasted
believe
pocket.
. Tu rk said when
loped from him.