Bradford reporter. (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, July 30, 1853, Image 1

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    01Olga StITo
T IV, ANDA:
Gatarbar filornmp , Inlp at!, 1858.
Jetta gale,
From Chsmners' Packet Miscellany
THE CURATE OF LANGBOURN.
The ra ys of the autumn sun fell cheerfully on
b e tels around Langbourn. as the curate of the
Hags, Mr Benson sat out on the path leading
:tom his humble dwelling. For some time he
wilted onward a ith downcast eyes, and from the
a rson of his pale and thoughtful countenance,
in , evident that a tinge of melancholy pervaded
tionedeations The road to the mansion of his
stor, whither he was now proceeding, was a by.
jalb tntetsecting rich and well cultivated fields, in
which the reapers were prosecuting joyously the
too of the harvest Their clear, ringing voices,
wad noisy peals of laughter, aroused the curate from
at; o:unction, and he felt as if the light-hearted
rounds chid him for the pensive character of his
Jra iboughis. " The Almighty," said he, " has
R id a good and plenteous season,thai his creatures.
..he high and low alike. may have the wherewithal
eat; and even the Red breast that chirps across
ut path shall have its portion Want has hitherto
been mercifully withheld from cro.sing my thresh•
aoltl. anti poverty has been too long an inmate of
the dwelling, to make ue continuance a thing to be
dreaded. Alas'. How unwilling is my tongue to
utter, or my heart to admit,.that there is a deep
er cause for the hear itiesf. ihat oppresses Me ! Ma
rc, my beloved child,. it is thy lading cheek and
3ronping spurts that my soul would fain exclude
tae knowledge of from itself, for the temporal corn
i‘tris and means that might revive thee are not in
mit power! Uttering a p.oue wish for the object of
as anxiety, and beseeching resignation to his own
wand, the curate walked on ward to the abode of his
minor. _
Betme relating the purpose and tenor of the in
terview between the rector and the curate, we may
'Jescribe briefly to the reader these personages
themselves. The rector was a man of portly pre
sence, haughty and grave, even to sternness in his
address. His origin was humble, for he was the
ran at a pool tradesman, and the presentation to
-the icings he r.ocv enjoyed had beew the resnli
, of
i,ang service as tutor Ma family of rank. Though
tot meanly descended, the rector was a proud
sad his object on acquiring the rectory had
teen to unite himself with a well connected lady,
trio though considerably beyon6 her prime, form
edabond between her husband and the la:mires
a! taut in the neighborhood. Still the churchman
it,d net turfy luau, his object, :or though elevated
estation in his own eyes and even in those of his
minors, by the marriage, those with whom lie was
VIIOUP to mingle were not conciliated by
?erk,al mt..' its to overlook the humility of his na
,anir Thai was unfortunate for him in more
'pan o-e respect ; those with whom he might have
‘r , fietly as.ociated. he now considered hIIIINeIf
errant above , and not being admitted freely o
th e higher class of society, he Rood tri sOrne [nee
ea:a in a lonely and even solitary posnioir His
~ !1 vas not of an age to'rmliveri his home with
valtdren sod by degrees the temper of the rector;
vcch was t aurally social : became liaughty arid
loured He was by no means uncharitatte.but his
rtvitt,4 were sadly affected by prejudices; and be
hit: imbibed, during his intercourse with the high
e'ClaiPeP, the doc . rme that poverty IP mdispensa•
he, and indeed a blessing, to the lower orders of
sze:y. in every well regulated state
Mr Be!).4.11, the curare. vra. in many re.peos
rt.rrrar.t i tit: i.clor He ma. mi.k.k. gmt.tle,
and vra. belnved arr.t Pr. rented .Ire
G1;1401 7,1111 , 4PI Lnkgbourn He vra, the immednue
, teseendary of a family that had been ol c Ainitir
imp , rattce to 04 neighborhood : and all. Cur
mmlyaNce, together/ with his general charactvr,
tale him tespectei even to quarters which firs p•ll•
Pe'q'r ct , ttitl not propitiate An early love marriage
prevented hts struggling, like his fellows tot
ktnt.cet.t,tit in the church, and made them glad
ate reluge from want in a curacy ul £35 a year
HA site die,' without leaving any family, and the
rc're 'KA into his home a widowed sister and
ter ahly child, to whom he was deeply attached.--
Hintece, Mary Warner, was now about the age
o!eighteen, a slender and elegant' , formed young
woman, With one ol the sweetest and most expres
lite 01 cotritenatices„ the index to her amiable
mind She had lately been residing for sometime
with an turn WA considerable distance, and. since
her return time, had to the distress ol her fond un
cle autl pa:eta, drooped both in health and spurts.
Never hail the cur dle f e l l t he narrowness of his in
Coale S D fererely as when it limited his means of
procuring necessary comforts for his beloved niece.
Ale Bvt!.on was on his way to the rectory, to re
mire hia half yearly pittance and it grieved him to
how mall a balance would be lett after the
papteni of ,he debts already incurred.
0;. tettchutg tnet rector's goodly ; though.old lash.
'zed mansion. burietEin venerable woods, which
.Ae rocks had for centuries held as their peculiar
"'main, he was snotcri by one of the servants unto
a7 ' .e chamber. %s tit the promise that his (ever.
ence shouid be informed of the sittlior's presence.
• n iertznutert elapsed betore the servant re-appear.
tirlich time Mr Benson, on looking around,
er , u4.l not help contrasting the duties of` the rector
wi 'h• his own and the difference in the reward.—
Ile though, however, was rebuked as quickly as
4 arose and he uttered a prayer that has reward
Nht be, not temporal but spiritual and eternal.—
lie wa s at length ushered into the presence 01 his
I `Mtr~Or
SA down, sit down, Mr. Benson," said the rec.
- I hope your family are well. Pray, excuse
e for keeping yon wailing; my wile's cousin, Sit
hast called, in.! WO Weil erzagicli
: , ' ' .' ' '''
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in Pipping a giaps of port. Here, Peter, bring a glaPs
of wine for Mr. Benson."
The rector hail acquired a taste for good wine
during his tutorship, and was really a critical judge
otrta merits.
The i oor curate sighed almost audibly as he
raised the glass placed before him to his lips, and
thought of the dear one whose declining health
such a cordial might revive, while to him it was
tise les.. as it was tindesired. The rector continued
to de-c..iit on The subject of his visitor and relation,
Sir John, and the qualities of wine, to all which the
curate listened patiently. At last, on mention being
made of the business for which M. Bension came,
his reverence said :
" Thirty five pounds is a large sum, sir, and with
the other perquisites altogether, I bare no doubt a
handsome enough living. Indeed, Mr. Benson, 1
have jest had an offer from a young man, a very
valuable person, to perform the duty for thirty
pounds.
The curate was too much struck by this announce
ment to make any reply. The thought had some
times occurred to him that, could he overcome his
pride as far as to Inform the rector how much need
there was of an augmentation ot salary, it was pos.
siffle that it might be granted by that gentleman,as
the duties of the curacy were more extensive than
usual. This hope had taken a deeper hold of his
mind than he himself was sensible 01, till it was
thus overthrown, and the prospect of losing his pit
tance, small as it was, presented in its stead.
The rector probably saw the depression hts words
had ceused, and he proceeded to say :
"True must be thought ot, Mr. Benson, in the
mean time, you will of course go oh with your du
ties; ve may speak of toe reduction at some future
I=
_ The servant had been called into the robin pre—
vious to this speech, and his master directed him
to psy the salary to Mr. Benson He then left the
room, imagining, no doubt, that he had acted char
itably in not pressing an immediate reduction ; a
view of the subject certainly not coi:lcided in bY .
the other party concerned.
The rector derived his inforthation regarding the
Whirs of the parish, both clerical and local, chiefly
Iron, the lips of inferior functionaries, to whose pur
poses and projects Mr. Benson's integrity had of.
ten proved a barrier. The perquisites attached 'to
0 e :uracy were insignificant, and the rector had
been maliciously misinformed on the subject. As
the curate pursuetrhis walk homewards, in deeper
depression than before, he thought with regret of
having permitted this impression to remain on the
mind of his superior, and resolved to explain it
away, if possible,at an early opportunity, either per
sonally or in writing His mind then reverted to
his sister and niece, and he reached his home with
a load on his spirits which he in yarn. endeavored
to dispel
Th. curate's dwelling t% ti Plow white-washed
Colidge, consisting, tow-it:ally of Two small rooms,
with sleeping apartments attached to them In the
parlor. at the moment of Mr Benson's return, sat
May and h'er mother, engaged iti some lemmioe
i.ccupatwri. The cloud on her uncles brow Was
soon observed by the niece and she sat down by
maliowsly iliquiriug at the same time if he
were well The cora e parted the locks from her
beautiful and high forehead. and kissed her aflec
untimely beftne he answered her question
"Were you well. dearest, little care would affect
me, but as long asr your cheek is pale and then,
Mary.'so long must Ibe ill at ease You take no
ailequ - aie srippor , and seem. indeed, in the condi.
non which poet:. describe as characteristic of true
love unrewarded."
He spoke this itt a painful tone of reproaoh.w Oh
out ohs.. ry tog the effects of his latigiue. Many
.roil became pale alternately ; and au aecu
i ate °u-elver tntytht have believed that the analogy
out. ummiteetic2, by the curate, Mae nut
fat t r.tu :he truth. Ti nw mi g ht have even ocour•
reo to ham-elf. uo-uvienius as he was. had nut an
sot !rural occurred from vhe delivery of n letter
by a boy at the, cottage door. The curate read it
aueloively and, simply saying that he was going
to the village, row end left the house.
The letter which-the curate received ran as foi-
10%18
To the Curate,' Langborrn—Sir, I take the
freedom of aildres,ing you, fur a reason that can
only be explained on a personal interview, which
I beg of you most earnestly to grant me as early as
your convenience will permit. A STRANGLO
The messenger brought it from the village inn,
and 'here an answer was expected by the writer
it can scarcely be said that the circumstance exci
ted much culto-ity in the mind of Mr. Benson,
though the hand writing was that of an educated
person, and such was not'the common way in which
ordinary tales of distress came to the benevolent
curate's ear. His mind, however, was fully pre
occupied with the disheartening prospects Held out
in the interview with the rector.
Belore proceeding to the inn, be resolved to pay
a visit to the tradesmen who supplied his family
with necessaries, trial discharge their several ac
counts As he reached, with this intent the door of
the village butcher. he heard his own name men
tinned within, end, not desirous of hearing either
evil or good of himself, stepped into the house at
once. The party conversing with the butcher was
the rector's servant, who alter hastily saluting the
curate, left the place. The master of the shop was
a man of very middling character, and no favorite
of Mr. Benson's a cireamithance the former knew
well enough, but wr,ich the absence of any rivals
in his trade entitled him, in his opinion, to -disre
gard. After the account was settled,the curate was
about to take his leave, when his attention was
arrested by some words muttered indistinctly, and
with some d eg ree of embarrassment, by the butch
er, regarding future paymeres. On being asked,
the man,•recovertng his usual unblushing con 6.
deuce, repeated what be Ina said; and the aerate
found to hie dismayithal the babbling servant of
PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA:, BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH.
- ••
" agoatan.r.ss OP Dzsuocurior PROM ANT QUAILITIL"
the rector had overheard the conversation at the
rectory. respecting the reduction of his salary, the
repetition of which to the butcher had produced the
unwillingness to give the usual credit.
" God pity and `help my poor sister and Mary
if others should act with me like this man !"
thought Mr. Benson to himself; as he left the shop
in silence.
None of the other tradesmen to whom the curate
gave the sums they were entiflitid to repeated the
conduct or sentiments of the butcher; but the anx
ious fears of the clergyman suggeited that this for.
bearance might be owing to their ignorance of the
eamercircumstances.
After the last account was discharged the curate
found himself with hole of his salary remaining,
and with melancholy prospects jar the future. In
this state he still remembered that his services were
required, and uttering a hope internally that the
distress—for distress he was prepared to find—
might not be pecuniary he entered the little inn at
Langbourn. The boy who had been the bearer of
the letter appeared to be in waiting for him and
conducted him up stairs, where opening the door
of a small apartment, he merely uttered the words,
" the curate, sir," to a person within, and then re.
tired.
The stranger was seated at a table, from which
he immediately rose.. He was apparently not above
two or three and twenty, with a tall and handsome
person,-and a countenance strikingly open and
beautiful. The blush with which he met his visi
tor heightened the ingenuousness of of his look, and
his manlier had an air of breeding and refinement
which appeared, despite the faded dress which he
wive.
" I have to.apologize, sir, said he to the curate,
" for the great liberty. I have taken, though it
will appear greater when I state to you its ob
ject "
"Respectfully handing a choir to Mr Benson,
and.begging him to seta himself, the stranger con
tinued:
" I am at present, in a situation that makes me
blush for the imprudence that has placed me in it,
and made such an explanation as this necessary.
It is necessary that you should know all the cir
cumstances which led me to this onfottutiate situa
tion. My father was a general officer in the army,
who fell in battle when I was a child, and was fol
lowed to the grave soon after bi my mother. My
lather's elder and only brother, who possessed the
family estate, was the guardian to whom the dying
lips ormy mother consigned me, and never toes
charge so affectionately executed. My uncle was
unmarried, and having some tam* pride in his
disposition, brought me up as he ,f i tiaught the heir
of the estates, and the supporter 41 the name ought
to be. He was but too kind to me, and since my
boyho , al has striven to gratify my wishes in every
respect. This generated in me habits of paying too
much deferet.ce to my own will, and too little to
that of others ; and rational lookers on would have
called me, I am afraid. a spoiled child._
Atter returning from the university, I took up my
residence for some rime in the country, with my
uncle, intending speedily to set out on my travels
Here occurred the circumstances which were the
occasion of my first tli-notes with my kind uncle
and which have caused me to be here, but which
sod'. in some respeo•s. I never can regret Near
my,uncie's residence is a small village, which, in
my rides and walks around the neighborhood I had
frequent occasion to pass through. I met there,
• while calling accidentally at the huose of a friend,
a young lady whose beauty struck me indescriba
bly at the fret view. I will not endeavor to paint
to you the charms of mind anti disposition which I
found her, on 'unbar knowledge, to possess; suf
fire it 10 say, that the impression made by them is
not and never can be erased from my heart.
I often visited the family in which she resided,
and indulged for some time in a species of dream,
onto which I was suddenly awakened by my on•
cle's discovery ol the object ol my visits to the vil
lage. He commanded me to give up an attachment
which was so derogatory to the dignity of the fami-
The irritated state of my uncle's feelings ccristrain
ed me to put some guard upon my own. I with
drew from his presence in silence, but it was only
to seek that presence where alone I felt happiness
You will pardon these expressions, sir, for I am
still a lover. I could not conceal from the object
of my affection what had occurred, and the tear
that dimmed her lovely eyes, grieved at the same
time that it charmed me. This was the first time
that my heart was satisfied that my passion was re
turned ; and though the proof was given at the very
moment that she was exhorting me to forget her
forever, it gave me consolation even then She
bade me farewell, and I have never again teen her.
Her residence in the village was, I should have in.
formed you, merely temporary ; and when I re
turned on the following day to her relation's house,
I Kum] that she had taken her departure, and had,
besides, directed her friends, as her peace of mind
was valued, not to acquain(me with her home,
which, during the entrancement of our love, f hid
not been informed of, though I knew the position
in life of her friends to be respectable. I returned
to my lancle's house to despair, and angry words
passed) between my kind relation and myself. In
whorl. sir, instead of remaining to attempt to pacify
and reconcile my uncle to what I left to be neces
sary to my happiness, .1 was imprudent enough to
l ease his house with the determination not to re
urn to it. I wandered about the country for some
time, hoping always that a chance meeting might
occur with her I loved ; but this romantic idea was
never gratified.
•• The money I had taken with me being expen
ded, and pride, and other causes still making the
idea of returning home odious to me, I was forced,
for mere subsistence, to rip myself a few days ago
to a band of strolling playels. We arrived at this
inn last night, and this morning I bound that my
companions had disappeared early, leaving the
bonhetrof the eight's lapeßeeswoo. myself. Bat
I also, found in this paper, lifting it from the table,
.... ...
urbiu grieved me more. Here is an advenisement
informing 'me of my uncle's illneav, and entreating
my return, at the same time declaring that all my
wishes abed be gratified."
The cantle had listened with much interest to the
stranger's story, and look the newspaper handed to
him After reading the advertisement, he said : " I
hope sir, you have no other intention but to return
as soon as possible to your family'!"
'• Most assuredly I shall," said the stranger.—
" The cause which detained me for a moment from
the road thither, is the necessity of paying the sum
required by the people of the house. If you do me
this favor, sir, yon will have my thanks for per
mitting me to go where my presence will bring
comfort."
The curate rose without reply and motioning the
stranger to keep his seal, left the room. On his re
turn, Mr. Henson mentioned to the young man that
the necessary sum was paid; and with the freedcm
of a clergyman and a senior, gave him some pa
tern if and friendly admonition, at the same time
pointing out the extreme impropriety of the conduct
of which he had been guilty, and the mi.ery that
almost invariably follows the course of lite into
which he had recklessly plunged
He whom he addressed, like the repentant pia
digal, was deeply affected even to tears by the
friendliness of the tone and counsel, and said.when
the curate ceased, I shall never forget your coon
eel, sir, nor the obligation you have eon ferred on a
stranger,—one, indeed, who does not know the
name of his benefactor Tas yet know you and
have heard of yon by no other name than that of
curate. My own name is Norton, Charles Norton,
with the bearer of which I hope you will be further
acquainted."
The curate gave his name in return, and reques
ted Mr. Norton, before leaving the village, to visit
his residence, advising him at the same time to de.
far his de, allure till next morning, as the day was
tar advanced. After a promise to that effect the
curate and Mr. Norton parted.
The rector and everything connected with his
own circumstances, were for a while. obliterated
from Mr. Benson's mind by the interest excited
by the young stranger's story ; and such is the pleaa.
ing effect that a benevolent action, however trifling
in itself, terries on the mind ref the doer that the
depression of his spirit did slot return, in the same
degree of severity. On entring his hon o he was
affectionately reproached for neglecting his usual
meal but warded oft the censure by stating, after
satisfying his hunger, that he had a tale to tell foe
their gratification. Even Mary's languor was dis
sipated for the time by the tilings ; but when the
curate commenced the narration, the attention of
the young lady soon changed to strong emotion.
"Out of delicacy," said Mr. Benson, when he
came to the stranger's falling in love, " I dad no t
inquire the name at the lady, nor did he mention
it, but his own name is Charles Norton."
Mary utiered not a word, but in a fainting con
dition, let her head fall on the ahouldet 01 her
mother
'• I see it all !" exclaimed the curate. as the idea
flashed across his mind which may already have
been in our readers, i• it is our own Mary of whom
I have been speaking !"
Besting her head upon her mother's bosom, she
confessed at their anxious entreaties, thnit she was
the unfortunate object of Charles'Norion'd love, and
that she had concealed the circumstance from them
to spare their feelings, and hoping that time would
remove the impression lett upon her mind. Her
uncle and mother were Ailed with anxiety fur her,
and preveiled upon her to go to rest immediately,
which she only consented to on hearing the issue
of the story from the curate.
The curate deliberated long and earnestly with
his sister that night, whether a would be'proper to
admit Norton's visit in the morning, alter what had
come to their know letlge. The result was that a
letter was despatched to him at an early hour stat
ing plainly what Mr Benson had learned since
their in tervetv. and declining a visit at that moment
on account of the possible danger from an agitating
meeting to Mary, who bad not been informed that
he was still in the village. The note was written
in trienily but dedided language and a brief and
hurried reply was returned by Charles Norton, ex
pressing deep anxiety for Mary's health, ant at the
same time hoping that though it might be improp
er to receive him at present, he might be permitted
at no distant date to see one so dear to him, and
whom he bad so long desired to see in vain.
Nothing was heard by the curate's family of him
on whom the happiness of its most beloved member
depended till a few weeks after the circumstances
we have related. when a letter with a black seal
arrived fur Mr. Benson It was from Charles Nor
ton and contained an account of his uncle's death
which the wrier stated to have been occasioned,
according to the opinion al the atiehdtng surgeons,
by confirmed dropsy of many year's standing. This
had relieved the writer's mind, he said, of a great
load.
" As soon as circumstances will permit," con
tinued the letter, " I shall visit Langbontn, when I
hope to be allowed to visit my dear Mary, and of.
ter her myself arid all that I have in the world "
Need we to add that Map's cheek soon recover.
ed its bloom, and that a few month. aherwords she
became the wife of the obiect of her early and only
atlectiun. In the comlotts also, of a moderate liv
nig, to which he was presented by Mr Norton, an d
in the happiness of seeing the children of his be
loved Mary spring up like olive plants around him,
the curate of,Langbourti forgot the unkindly bear
of the lector and his threatened reduction of salary.
Q ::?.. Mrs. Partitive' wattle to know why they
don't bring the whole of Cbitia over at once, in,
stead of bringing it in junks.
(Kr A man of pont - genic!! can no more J.rea;
bimaell offivedom of opaoaot► than of ate lea►u;e of
hie lace.
ISE=
From WWI-wood.
Quadrille and Polka•
We wonder whether it has never . occurred to
some mortified mother, who, for tome three or
four consecutive seasons, has paraded her:daugh
ters at every ball and fashionable gathering, and
undergone more trouble in helping toidissipate their
natural roses than the ever expended in their edit
cation—to ask herself the question whether, after
all, she is following:the . best method, of teeming,
not the happiness of her children, but their settle
ment in lite? It is a very momentous question,
but we fear some mothers never take it into con
sideration. Having in their younger days, passed
through the fire before die Moloch of fishion, they
take it for granted that there is but one custom
to be observed, and one course to be pursued. In
the ball room they were wooed and Won ;and why
should not their daughters achieve their destiny in
the like locality
Do trot—youn; the prettiness of
your brows by knitting them hastily and severely
before you have heard our argument. We do nor
intend, by anytmears, to pronounce an elaborate
discourse a.'arnst the vanities of social society—
neither is it our wish that-you should attain \ that
cerulean hue, which, aa Dickey Milnes, or some
other modern poie', tells us is grateful in the eyes
of Minerva. " The purple light of luve"—these
are not our words, for the blush•rose is the only fit
emblem—on your cheeks, is worth all the indigo
in the world. We do not desire that you should
be over literary ; and wa. consider a total indiffer
ence for science, to be an excellent thing in woman .
Never shall we forget the area of female faces that
beamed upon us when, at a late meeting of the
British Association, we read our celebrated paper
on " The History of the Lost Plead " We saw,
as it wear, the glittering Of a thousand stars; but all
of them shot their rays through spectacles. Never,
with our consent, shall you be cooped up, and pre
vented from indulging to the full in the innocent
gayety of your hearts. But we have a word or two
to say to ihe mammas. .
Madam whom you first came out or made yon
debut—foi that was then the term in vogue—do you
happen to remember what were the manners of the
ball-room! Let us refresh your Memory. The
staple dance vas the quadrille, perhaps not a very
lively piece of pantomime, but one which, from its
nature, afforded ample opportunity for conversation,
(you may Call it flina . ion if you like.) and
was neither, in its farm, to reserved or too
familiar. It was all grace and decorum. It admit
ted of a slight and tremulous pressure of the hand
—nothng more—between parties ripe fur declara
tion; and often, during the pause before the
fast figure, the attitude of some blushing beau t 3,
plucking unconseiously a splendid camel
ha to pieces, left little doubt of the nature of those
whispers which ber partner had been pouring into
her ear. Like Margaret in the Faust, the swe e t
girl was but essaying to prove her destiny from the
pestals of the flower. For those in a less advanced
stage of understanding, !here was the contredanse,
and the reel, with various other gymnastics, al! of
a harmless nature. But Satan had entered into
Panuitse, though to a mild form. We may now,
our dear maiden recall, without anything like bit
te,ness of feeling, the days when we indulged to.
gether in the sweet to °sire:inn of the wal . z. It
was really—we confess it with a touch of the old
Adam—a most fascinating innovation. You den
eed divinely ;and a more clipsome waist than yours
we never spanned. Once, indeed, we thought—but
no more of that ! You married, of your free will and
accord, that red haired monster .McTavish, in vir.
toe of his imaginary reat s roll; and, long ago, our
a.zony of mind, like the remembrance of an old
toothache, has us:parted. Bnt it was pleasant to
revolve,:linked with you over the Assembly Rooms
when Spindler was in his glory, an 1 when the
waltz was kept, at least, within something like de
cent limits. Long before then Byron, who certain
ly was not straight-laced, bad pcblished his poem
of the " Waltz;" arid, without subscribing to, his
views upon our penistrephic performances, we
must needs own{ that his satire is of double value
now.
The waltz, as we danced it, was decent ol:rire kind.
No father of a lamely, we think, whatpvet he the
practices. of fashion, can rejoice in seeing Iris daugh
ter's waist spanned by the arm of seine ilebauelied
dragoon, o haw advances she can hardly refuse
without coagniiiing a , breach of the idoti
cal rul-s which modem usuage inculcates Surely,
in a free country, a woman ought to be tree iu her
choice esen rit a temporary partner ; and the base
notion which prevails, that a lady, by refusing the
invitation of one man to (Love, is deoarred from
accepting a more congenial offer, is utterly foreign
and repugnant to the rules of c'.ivalry. be the ball
or bower, the ladies are paramount, and they ough:
to exert their authority—rernembe.ing this, the
slightest murmur against their decision ought to be
considered an offence against knightly courtesy 1.
would bewßll tt we bad a female habitual:with full
powers of expulsion from swiety, to ad,udicatc
upon such matters - .
But, not to perpetrate a digression in favor of
Provencal usages, let us return to the ma' er ut
question. We maintain now that Lord Byron,
writing under the name of ft ,race flotriem. was
fully justified in the utterances of every couplet.—
The poet 5 a seer; and though we perhap •, iu our
younger day a_ could descry no impropr,et) ,n the
wal i. whrch merely admitted us toe nearer degree
of comact than the former Terpsichore...it meio
tic-ins, the profit emral eye of the bard fore-aw the
neces , sry consequence. The character of the waltz
gradual:y become changed. From a graceful rotary
monun, a deenerated in•o a Bacehic movement
similar, no doubt, to the first Thespan pettormatt
res, mere intended, as scholars tell us, to be
in honor ut iris young Lleyas. Then came the graf
i oppe, which was a still further manifestation of the
triumphal pcoce.ssioa of 4riad-e. Dincitig, as one
now rece:fed is itch
11==r=1
=
You saw an infuriated looking lellow throw ill
arms around a girl's Waist, and rush oft wilts *or
as if he had been one of the troopsofßomtillitab
ducting a reluctant Sabine. Sabine, hoirerer,Milate
no remonstrance, but went along with him guile
cordially They punned a species of batlike nice"
nronnd The room—jerking, flitting backing ana
pirouetting, Whhotitlule, and without any, west*
of grace, until breath tailed them, and the piloting
virgin was pulled up short on theorm of her Naples
ing partner. Ghost of Count Wim;lion! shade of
De Gramnicint! has , it really some to this! Vol;
knew, in your day, something about, the Gist*
maines and others; but never did you witneu r in
pobtic at least, such orgies as British matrons and
mothers now placidly contemplate and approri..
This, however, called Lir a reform; and it was
reformed By what! By the introduction of the
polka—the favorite dance, and tto wonder,•ol the
Csssion. View i. philosophically, and you find it
to be neither more or less than the nuptial dance of
Gaucho-I and Ariadue. Our mothers or gratodnintit:
era were staggered, and some'of them shocked, at
t he introduction of the ballet in the opera honieti.
What would they say now, could they see one til
their female descendents absolutely in the embrace
of Some hairy animal—fronting him—linked to him
—drawn to him=—hei head reclining on his shodis
der, and he perusing her charms—esevutipg Ile
most ungraceful of all possible movements, at the
will of a notorious Tomtioddy 1 No doubt every
thing is innocent, and the dance is condocted
one side at least—with perfect purity of idea. ;liii,
somehow or other, these grappling", Nominee,
ane approximations, look ;rather odd in the eyes of
the unprejudiced spectator ; and we, who hare
seen tile feats of Egyptian Almas almost surpaseetl
in British ball-rooms, may be pardoned for expreasr
ing our eon viction, that a tMle—nay a good deaf-4
more of feminine reserve than is presently pme%-
tised, would be vastly advantageous to. the yogi*"
ladies who resort to those haunts which they hate
been taught tocausider as the matrimonial ba.-
Saar.
Of course, we do not expect that any of the rats
Bacchantes will give the ;lightest heed to what w
say. If one of them chance.—tned and languid as
she is from last night's polka, through which she
has been hurried in the nervous embraie of Cap•
lain Faz.urse, of the Dagroons—to pealse these pa.
gee, she will set us down as a vinagated aid Cat•
vinist, who knows nothing whatever of the ways
of modern society We shall Do linked to lobe
Kuoi, who once took upon himself the ungracious
task of lecturing the Queen's Mattes But neither
Mary Seaton, Mars Beautoun, Mary Fleming het
Mary Livingstone, ever rushed frantically through
the halls of flalyrood in the gripe of Chastain or of
Bothwell—indeed, had such been the easel - the
hands of.the grim old barons, their fathers, woeM
have instinctively have grasped the poignartL W
abuse nut dancing—we simply contend against its
abuse. The effect of it is jest this, that the, axed
invetera e devotees of 1113 polka have the' feast
chance of being married. No man of refinement
l.kes to see the object of his affections praperag
wildly in the arms of another. Cupid, as the
Americans say, is" a ekeary critter and a very
little matter indeed is sufficient to make hint tats
wind. Let the ladies take OW word for it, that'ref.
ttuence is a virtue greatly appreciated by Enar.kihd.
Many a goung man has entered the ball room with
a mind thoroughly made up for an avowal, andleft
it with a determination to have nothing mail
to say to the lady whose breath has fanned- this
whiskers of a whole regimental mess. Among the
accomplishments which en'er into a matrimonial
calculation, defness in the polka has but a very
subordinate share. Were it otherwise, the aim !
ple,t method 'would be to select a partner for life
from the ranks of the carps-de ballet It is the do:
mestic graces and accomplishments that constitute
the great fascination of woman; and these can only
be seen and duly displayed in the family chtler
ignentsu Stu nig Tol.ss —After Jawing
orneume with the long eard doorkeeper, Jedediatt
Homespun up and spent a quarter to see the Sta•
met.e Twins. Looking at the curious pair for 100
nine, Jed Dusted :
'• How lon have you fellows been in that kind
of hivh
" Furl two 'years," was Eng's reply.
Du tell Gil/in kind u) used to it, 1 calculate,
ain'tcoot'
We ought to be," said thei.
. " Yes, [wow you ought'. Yoe sellers bekerg
to the same church—'spect you do?" - .•
" Yes, mdeed," said Chang.
t 6 Want in k no w ! Wall I swan, you are hitch r
etl queer," +said leJ , rainpiely ezarniuwg tbe_ ligi•
It one et you tenets clies"tother feller *lll
in a pnekor, I recon."
" Would be bad," said Chang.
" Don't drink motile, I guest—ewer go io to
swim!"
•
Sometimes," said they.
Afer gazing at them a few miumes
Jed atraia busts :
" L here, 'spore one of yea SOW, got fratia
fenpn, and was about to be nut in'llittolt i J:foil
•
m4::age 'hat 1"
says rd ao Charig's bait:"
tJ mi l.
)ep ta !, by 1 ,
, - .1i1:" „
:tede,it.di, I,a. tug exhausted tits CTOIIW, ale
arninvion, weo t.tl wono:mg. gtrmga tank=
examiners room to put the Twins thotrtiet'ae
of timilat qcouts
[t7" A Conneciiech dame the mortis/ of a-laras
family, was ono day stoked Ihe nn mberofbetchiP
dire, Li me !J she replied, rot -Linz herself to
and fro, r• I've got feorteen, Mosey bcovi ttnli
There is a mart wtio;s* he Itiatillairitii
eveuin; parties, out, west where the "'k.4:o.
hug io hart that their .riles ca.e In a ..iiet44fritodi
m r ye rte T.ar.
MIMI
.ks; ~~
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