D. A. BUEHLER, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR.
VOL. XVIII,-45.1
OLD FRIE NDS TOGETHER.
Oh, time is sweet, when roue meet
With spring's sweet breath around them ;
And sweet the time when beans are lest,
if lbws lobo Wye bare found them ; '
And mesa the mind that still may end
A mar in Anted weather—
Bat sat tin be so sweet to see
Ays — elt Minds root together.
trtisiserskyi it slit when youth wee bold,
And dies stole wings to speed it;
,01,10 youth !WIZ knew bow fast tints lbw,
Or knowing did not bead lt--
yhowatignry each - Wow - tint beeds its two,
(Far age brings wintry weather,)
Yet aturibt can be so meet to me
As them old friends together. . . .
/Se few Wog kluntn, whom years hate shown
Witk Wines that friendship bkanee
A hand to chew. Immelltoft • "ar
To 4011161ta Mend's &Wow%
Who helped and tried, nal Ade by side,
&friend to bee bed enetber
-014 thus sly 'we yet)°, to we
And meet old GUN& together.
For the 43W and Banner."
How sweet the hours of closing day,'
Raw Witt, appears the even I
It gently draws the out away,
And rows its thoughts on heev'n. •
Thesenwppeare-te gild the west
of geld Sublime t
It teaches as to think of rest,
Abd all that is divine.
And whilst we sit and slow the past,
And tide& otdays p by.•
Osseo* of-life is-letting het. :
And death, is drawing nigh.
And when our dims on earth shalt end,
Oar pilgtimage be enr,
Then may our sun arise again
And shine Gomm More.
And may we in that world of blies
Enjoy .• heavenly rest
In prams may we there aabt, '
And be forever blest.
Hanover, Pa.
.411.0nr.”—One of the most spirited war songs
of the (khaki* hostilities is by 3.11. Ws. LA xn, or
the'Claremeont Whig. One verse goes thus:
Oh, bold and free o'er the bounding sea
Take we our ghadsome way,
To spread our 00d013111 banner out.
And mingle an thi fray ;
At thebsat of drum we come, we roma,
eiMMME!!
Where Pierce and Ranson lead.
All this is beautiful enough—but from what
has happened, a Yankee Editor 'freehand' mod
of those who are fortune* enough to get back will
'sing" aometimig in this style
"oh. lean and lank with a mingle ;hank
Tire soldier limps away,
For grab and grog not fit Re a hog
To spend his little pay.
To die a of and be forgot
By the men that reap the voile ;
While Pierce and Ramon take the stars,
He takes the stripes and Will.
From the Union Magazine
THE UNWILLING BRIDE.
IT MIS. .
"Surma, :let me take away this ring !"
-rhe speaker was a young girl that might
have seen itateen summers. Her com
panion apikared about three years older,
and eat leaning her arm on the table near
the window, in an attitude of dejection that
ill accorded with her gay' attire. Her
dress was of white satin. and fell in grace.
full folds from her slender waist. Her
beautiful arms were tiara; and the pearls
on her neck and in her hair, as well as the
spriglof orange blossom' that gleamed in
its dark folds—the appropriate ornaments
of a bride—showed that she "wore her
bridal robe," while the cheek that "rival
led its sithiteness" as plainly betrayed that
she was awaiting no joyous event, Her
guitar and fan thrown carelessly snide were
in keeping, with her air of sadness and . a
dandoamen t. in whin!' the youngersister
appeared to, sy m path as.
"Let me take this !" again pleaded the
soft low voice of the young girl.
"Plo. Juliet, I cannot part with that :"
replied the other, in a voice full„of
choly tenderness.
"But Margaret," persisted Juliet, "it is
not right that you should wear the token—
now r'
"I will not part with it."
"He is utterly unworthy of your remert
brano."
"I know that, Juliet, but I cannot help
loving him ; no—not him—but the image
in ainheart--;tinels as I once thought him.
The ring he gave me was a pledge of feel.
lags I au never snore cherish; and I will
keep it.. Qh s if he bad nordeceived me
.-r-deceived us all—l would have sooner
died than give my hand to another: .
'Jabot kneeled down beside her sister,
clasping one hand in her's, while the oth
er arm encircled her waist. Her drooping
face expressed the sympathy she felt.
"Brit it is all over now." pursued Mar
garet with a sigh, and wiping away the
team that had gathered in her eyes :
wilt try not to think so much of what is
pest. Indeed, 1 ought to be resigned, for
Mr. Demean is very kind, and my father
tau so earnestly wished the match. One
person at least will be made happy."
"And more than one might be I" said a
stern voice, as an elderly lady entered, hav
ing heard, apparently, the foregoing con
versation. "Yes, we might all be happy.
Is it possible you are still weak enough to
be grieving after that—"
"Hush, mother!" implored Juliet, look
ing up anxiously,
"Margaret I" said the lady, regarding
her daughter with asperity, "this sullen be
haviour ie more than uobecomingand fool
ish ; it is wicked. Remember you arc tb
be married to-night,"
"I do," responded the girl with a slight
shudder.
"Mr. Berneau is your father's choice
and mine. He is worthy of you. Meet
him as a bride should—you have consent.
cd—it is too late to recede—your conduct
will but lose you the affection and esteem
of your husband, who must feel insulted
by it." .
The tone of extreme severity had its ef.
feet. The bride rose from her seat, and
tried to smile as she received the little box
containing her lover's bridal gift. It was
.a superb necklaek of diamonds. Juliet
busied herself in arranging boquets . from
the flowers that covered a table on the one
aide of the apartment.
It is time to give the reader some clue
to our little tale.
Margaret Leslie was the daughter of a
planter in one of the dietricta of South
Carolina.. Beautiful and accomplished, as
many young ladies are who pass nearly
the whole of their lites in the country, she
had many admirers; but her heart was
given, Pub' to Edward ,Ciarlton. This
young gendeoutu had just completed his
law studies in New York, and was on a
tour through the Southern States, when he
met Mr. Leslie and his family in Charles
ton.
An invitation to spend some weeks at
the country seat of the hospitable planter,
was gladly accepted, and It was nothing
Wore his sensible manners, intelligence
and entertaining qitalities, won the favor
and regard of the master and mistress of
the mansion, while the impression up.
oil the heart of the fair Margaret was mull
deeper., Howecndd it be otherwise, whas
she had never met one who in grace and
refinement. as well as in varOd acquire.
meats, could compile with Mr. Carlton I
H 4 took an interest in all her studies, and
enjoyed her. amusements, drew with her,
and rode with her, that exhilliating eater
vise, in whichsouthern country ((iris excel ;
how delightful it was, in the bright winter
mornings, while Julie 4, with some chance
beau in attendance, lingered a lit& behind
—and they chatted gaily as they rodeo—
Or the long, lonely walks in the brown
woods, or the sail on the river, or the quiet
morning at home, or the evening enliven
edlrjrmuticanddancingandsocialconverse.
It was not to be wondered at, that, thyme
ning before the day on which Edward
Carlton was to take his departure, he re
tinested an interview with Mr. Leslie, and
askedllia daughter of him : nor that Mar
garet blushed and imiled when he joyfully
announced that he had obtained her 'pa
rent's consent.
Carkonfesolved to return North imme
diately, and commence the practice of law,
for which, from his position and family
connections, he enjoyed unusual advanta
ges. He hoped iu a tewmonthe to be able
to claim his bride. There was some sad
ness at the thought of.parting with Marga
ret; but the visits of the family to the
North every summer would bring them to
gether.; and Edward had promised that as
often as possible, his young wife should
spend her Christmasat . aWoodlawns."—
Then the youthful pair were so happy in
each other, and so well suited in tastes and
dispositions. There learned nothing le
darken the prospect. The letters of Carl
ton were frequent, and filled with glowing
accounts of sucoess, even beyond his most
sanguine expectations.
flome time passed, Ind the family were
beginning to talk of a visit from their cher
ished friend, when his letters suddenly
ceased. The I.ealies had just returned
from their' annual excursion to Charleston
during the season of the races, where Mar
garet bad mingled much le fashionable so
ciety, and had received the attention due
to a belle and a reputed heiress. Juliet.
too, had made her first entrance into gay
life. They had returned home weary—as
they said of dissipation. Margaret was
enchanted to have her music and drawing
again, and her long rides on horseback.—
But these soon lost their charm. Anxiety
and disappointed hope. the "hope deferred"
which "maketh the heart sick,' banished
the rose from her cheek and the smile from
her lip, while two weary months passed
ea bringing no tidings of Carlton.
Tidings came at last. A package was
seat them by a friend, containing several
newspapers, with the intelligence that a
namber of forgeries had dean detected,
committed by one Edwavil .Carltaikwho,
having eluded the pursuit of justice, lad
escaped in a vessel bound to France. The
description of his person, the locality and
circumstances, left little doubt on their
minds ; and even this was removed by a
letter front a person who knew. Carlton
well, and knew of his engagement. Some
of Margaret's letters, which he said were
found in Carlton's lodgings after his hasty
flight from justice, were enclosed to Mr.
The blow, sudden as it was, was a dread
ful stroke to poor Margaret; but youth and
and a strong heart will resist much.—
Where the sting of disgrace, too, is telt,
the struggles of the proud spirit, terrible
as they are, have a power to triumpli e over
despair itself. Mrs. 'Leslie was 'a woman
of haughty temper, and a quick sense of,
honor : and she prided herself, moreover,
on what she called the aristocratic blood of
her family ; and undei her schooling the
gentle Margaret soon learned to hide the
anguish that was gnawing at her heart.—
Carlton's name was mentioned no more.
and a peypetual round of company and so
cial amusements, devised by the sagacious
mother, ere long restored the fire to he;
daughter's eyes, and the bloom to her
cheek. It was not till alter she had yield
ed to the earnest wishes of her parents
and plighted her troth to another that she
felt how irretrievable was the wreck of
her happiness.
Mr. Berneau was a gentleman of French
family, but had lived, as he said, in Amer
ica since his childhood. He was suppos
ed rich, and brought lettere of recommen
dation to Mr. Leslie, whom ho had first
met in the city. '"
The preparations for the wedding were
completed ; the guests were assembled in
the spacious drawing room, which was
lighted up and decorated with garlands and
wreaths of roses, the splendid supper table
was laid, and shone with rich plate ; and
at the doors aqd windows might be seen
rows of black faces glistening with interest
and curiosity, while the piazza was crowd
ed with negroes who came up from the
plantation to see their young mistress mar
ried. The bride had put on the snowy
veil that floated like a cloud over her fig
ure, and was seated in her rooom awaiting
the arrival of the, bride-groom. But he
came not, though the great clock in the
hall already pointed to the hour fixed.—
Another hour, and yet another, rolled a
way. The guests were gathered into
groups, talking to each other in ominous
whispers. The bride stood at the window
of her apartment, through which the moon
light poured, gazing listlessly upon the
shrubbery and flowers, that looked so beau•
liftd in the silvery light ; while Juliet, pale
with anxious apprehension, was at her
side.
GETTYSBURG, PA. FRIDAY EVENING, JANUARY 21, 1148.
The roll oft carriage was heard coming
up the avenue. It stopped before the door.
There was a bustle, and strange noises
were heard in the hall. Juliet trembling
violently, clung to her sister', while the
bride-maids ran to the stairway to see
what had happened. A few moments af
ter ilfrs. Leslie entered, evidently highly
excited, and ordered the doors to be closed.
It was in vain; scarcely was the order o
beyed ',hem they were forced open, and a
stranger rushed in. A wild shriek burst
from the lips of Margaret ; she recognized
in the pale and emaciated countenance the
features of Edward Carlton. Starting for
ward at theirst impulse to meet him, she
recoiled suddenly, and fell fainting into the
arms of her mother.
A brief explanation will be all the reader
requires. The young than who had com
mitted forgery and fled, though bearing the
same name, and even some resemblance In
personal.appearaw, was ,a very different
person from the Edward Carlton. who was
betrothed to Miss Leslie. He had been
long prostrated with one of Those terrible
typhoid fevers ' which leive the body and
mind for months so debilitated that the
sulject is Incapable Of action: Unable
himself to write to Margaret, be had, as
soon as oonapioneness wasrestored, entreat
ed a friend to perform the duty for him.—
The friend was no other than Mr. Berman!
Edward had met hitn in different circlet,
where he was received as a gentleman •
was pleased with his bearing, and hesitated
not, when Mr. Bonen announced his in
tention of visiting the South, to invite him
to accompany him u soon as he should be
able to travel.
Not a few will remember the sensation
produced in certain polished circles. when
it was discovered that the accomplished
Mr. Etemeau the repqted possessor of
wealth, had been in the habit of plundering
those who admitted him to their houses on
intimate terms,.of large sums of money.—
Calton suffered with the rest, and the let
tere of Miss "Leslie, of which such base
nee was afterwards made, wore also pur
loined from his desk.
The moment he-was able tolearahela
tigue, Carlton set out on his journey south
ward; but it was not until his arrival in
Charleston that he discovered the. fearful
extent of Berneau's villainy,, that he learn
ed how his own name had been branded,
and his affianced bride deceived into In
nouneinglint, and
. won to pledge herself to
the wretch whose deep-laid arts had im
posed on Mr. Leslie as on others.
Edward's pursuit of the felon was in
vain ; he fled as soon he became aware
that his real character was exposed, and
was never heard of afterward,. But it
was ample consolation to the injured.lover
to and that Meerut was still true to
in heart. tier parents, when convinced
of the truth, Were anxious to repair their.
involuntary injustice; and it was not very
long before a wedding was celebrated in
the mansion at , 4Woodlawns," where the
lovely Margaret did not figure as the “Lrn
willing Bride."
Tae Omr—Cuatous Rxrsaussar..,—
Take an acorn et this time of the year. tie
a string around it in such a way that, when
suspended, the blunt end* of
,the. acorn,
where the cup was, is upwards. Hang it
thus premed in the inside Of a botde, or
hyacinth glum, containing a little water.
taking cartathat the acorn does_ not; twit
the water within ,an inch ; wrap the botdi
all over in flannel, so as to keep it dark
and warm, and put it in a warm place.—
In three _Or lout weeks the acorn will have
swollen, its cost will have buret, ands
lit
de white point will make ha appearance at
the end opposite the water.--This point
is the root; the acorn is now changing its
nature and becomin4 an oak; still. how
ever, it must be stationed in the dark, kept
clear of the water, and so it mitst continue
till the young root is at least half an inch
long. Then the water may be allowed to
rise higher; bat it is only when from the
neck of the root a little point begins to rise
upwards that it is as& to allow the water
to tonclqt. At that time the acorn has
ceased, to be an acorn, and has really be
come.a 7oung oak; for the little point di
rectininself upwards is the beginning of
that trunk, Which a century later may form
the timber of a frigate. As soon as this
young stem begins to shoot, the oak will
require a dose of light, a little every day ;
and it also yearns for more food, so that its ,
root, which ts, in reality, its mouth, must
be 'allowed to touch the water, and to drink I
it. After these events have come to pass,
the little creature breathes, and must have
air; digests, and must have light; sucks
greedily, and must have fresh water given
to its root, which, however, should never
be permitted to be wholy covered; just
that point where the stem begins should
always be kept out of water. The pet,
having been brought to this its first state of j
existence, must be put in the window.— 1
At first it will be a stout thread, whitish
and covered with tiny scales ; then the
scales will expand a little, and the end will
become greener. Next will appear some
little leaves, hair will begin to grow, veins
will branch, the old scales will fall off, and
by slow degrees the leaves will arrange
themselves upon the stem, each unfolding
from the bosom of the other. And thus,
out of a little starch and gum, for the acorn
was not much more, manifold parts will I
be produced by the wonderful creative ;
powers of nature.—Gardiners' Chronicle.l
LOTTERIES.—MaryIand, within the last
three years, has netted $68,000 of revenue
by licensing and taxing this demoralizing
species of gambling, of, which even Euro
pean governments have refused to partake
of the infamy since 1810 or 'l2. Lotter
ies induce the weak and avaricious, those
who are in haste to be rich, to invest their
means in a game of hazard, where the odds
aro more than two to one against them,
and to depend on the lottery for a living
rather than on useful industry.
Swift, alluding in a letter to the frequent
instances of a broken correspondence, after
a long absence, gives the following natural
account of the causes --At first, one omits
writing for a little while; and then one
stays a little while longer to consider of
excuses ; and at last grows desperate, and
one does not write at all,"
.FEARLESS! AND FREE."
Tile STARS.—I cannot say that it is
chiefly the contemplation of their infinitude,
and the immeasurable apace they occupy,
that enraptures me in the stars. These
conditions rather tend to confuse the mind;
and in this view of countless numbers and
u nlimi mited space their lies, morover, much
that belongs rather to a temporary and hu
man than to an eternal consideration.—
Still less do I regard them absolutely with
reference to the life after thin. But the
mere thought that they are so far beyond
and above every thing terrestial—the feel
ing that before them every thing earthly so
utterly vanishes to nothing—thatthe single
man is so infinitely insignificant in the
comparison with these worlds strewn over
elf apace—that his destinies, his enjoy
menu, and sacrifices, to which he attaches
such a minute importance, how all these
fade like nothing before such immense ob
jects ; then that the constellations bind to
gether all the races of man and all the eras
of the earth—that they have beheld all that
has passed since the beginning of time, and
will see all that passes until its end. In
thoughts like these I can always loose my
self with a silent delight in the view of the
starry firmament. It is in very truth a
spectacle of the highest solemnity, when,
in the stillness of night, in a heaven quite
clear, theaters, like a choir of worlds, arise
and deseend,—while existence. as it were,
falbr asunder lir - two - separate Nunn - the
one, belonging to earth, growsdumb in the
utter silence of night; and thereupon the
other mounts upwards in all its elevation,
splendor, and majesty. And when con
templated from this point of view, the star
ry heavens hartvtruly a moral influence
on the Yon klumbokft. .
Men measuntAair louritim by a pees .
liar standard. A min who hu but. a dol.
Zarin his pocket would giros penny for al
most any. purpose. If, he had * hundred
hitinight gire one; carry it - higher, and
then comes a. falling off. One hundred
dollars Would be c.onsidered too .large a
sum for him who has ten thousand; while
a present of one thousand , would be deem
ed almost miraculous for a person worth
one booth* thousand. Yet the *por
tion is , the same throughout-4nd the poor
man e s penny, the widow's might, is more
than the rich man' s , sounding and widely
trumpeted benefaction.
Tux MIT , OF ISINO aonseasts.--The
true art of Bert le is to appear
well pleased' with all the Company, and
rather to seem well entertained with them
than to bring entertainment to them. A
man thus dispose 4 perhaps, may not have
much learning, nor say wit; but if he has
common tense, anikeomething friendly in
his behavior, conciliates men's minds
more thaix.the br3ghtost parts without this •
dispouition; and when a men , or. such
s turn comes to old age, le is almost sure
to be treated with respect. It ii true, in
deed, that we should not dissemble and
flatter in company; 'but a man may be
very agreeable, stncctly consistent with
truth and sincetity, by a prudent:silence
where he cannot concur. and. a , pleasing
assent where be can. Now and then you
meet with a person so exactly formed to
please, that he will gain upon every one
that hears or beholds him ; this disposi
tion is not metely the gift of nature, but
frequently the effect of much knowledge
of the world and a command over the pas-
ALIXANDIII Hann rms.- 7 -11'million was
once applied to as counsel, by a man hay-
Mg the guardianship of saviorsl orphans.—
Those infants Would on theiVeasming- to
age, sue to a large antivaluable estate,
of widish there was some material defect
is the dile deeds. The fact and the man
ner in which it happened was known only
to the guardian, who wished to employ
Hamilton as counsel, to vest in himself the
title of the estate. He related the whole
affair circumstantially, and was requested
by his lawyer to call again, before he would
venture to give his advice in a matter of so
much importance. On his second visit,
Hamilton read over to him the minutes of
their previous conversation, which he had
reduced to writing, and asked him if the
statement was correct. Oa receiving an
answer in the affirmative, Hamilton re
plied : "You are now completely in my
power, and I look upon myself as the fu
ture guardian of the unhappy infants.—.
Take my advice—settle with them hono
rably to the last 'wont, or I will hunt you
from your skin like a hare." It is proper
to add that his advice was punctually fol
lowed.—U. S. Gazette.
DEMOCRATIC PLIPS.-A. friend relates to
us the following rich incident which oc
curred in the vicinity of our town. While
ascending the bayou a few days ago, he
had occasion to call at one of the farm
houses situated on his route. When a
bout to _enter, he saw lying on the front
gallery a beautiful specimen of the canine
breed of the feminine gender, with ten
pups, all of the most promising appear
ance. Near them Eat a lad between ten
and twelve years of age. Our friend be
ing somewhat of a dog fancier, inquired of
the boy if he would dispose of his pups to
which he answered in the affirmative.—
"What do you ask for them 2" was inqui
red. "One dime a piece," replied the
youngster. "Are they Whigs or Demo
crats 2" "Democrats," was the prompt
answer. "Then we can't trade," said our
friend, "for I want none but whig dogs."
"Oh," said the lad, "don't be alarmed on
that account : they can't see yet ; as soon
as they get their eyes open they'll all be
Whigs !"—N. 0. National.
Poet: Pius IX.—llls personal appear
ance is extremely benignant. and he unites,
with perfect self-command, indomitable
resolution and perseverance. He is abso
lute in authority, but occasionally summons
a Council of Cardinals for advice. On a
recent occasion, on taking a ballot by balls
placed in a box, it was found that the black
balls, which negatived his proposition,
very much exceeded the white. He took
off his white cap, and put all the black
balls together, put it over them, saying at
the same time to his surprised Cardinals,
that now the balls were all white, and,
thanking them for their advice, dismissed
them.
From the Boston Daily Advertiser.
A COLD IN THE HEAD.
A cold in the head
What need Weald
Uglier, stupider, more ill bred!
Almost any other disease
May be romantic, if you please ;
Who can scoff
At a very bad cough!
If you have a fever, yoO're laid on the shelf
To be sure—but then you pity yourself,
And your friends' anxiety is highly excited,
Thu curtains are drawn, and the chamber lighted,
Dimly and softly, pleasanter far,
Than the starving sunshine that seems to jar
Every nerve with a reporite knock,
And at all our moral calamities mock.
It's not by no means
As bed as it seems,
To he steadily, cleverly, nicely sick ;
Talk as you please,
• In certain degrees,
Every one likes to take their ease,
Likes to be tended and nicely fed,
Petted and waited on, put to bed,
And got up in the morning carefully,
Like a lord or a lady of high degree.
But a cold in the head
Your eyes are red,
Your poor upper lip is all swelled and spread,
You talk in a tone
Most unlike your own,
A mixture of snuffle and sneeze and groan ;
Your head aches, your eyes smart—you havn't a
thought
That can comfort or rouse
You, or profit you aught.
You think of what Aaron once offered to Moses;
And wish he'd agreed to the session of noses;
He eared too much for the fashion to think
Whata comfort %would be on this shiveringbrink
Of greenbuod and Iceland, New England y'clept,
If we had not the noses his negative kept !
Who do you suppose
Ever pitied a man for blowinghis nose!
Yet what minor trial could ever be worse,
MAW it be reading this blundering verse,
: - Neese fit to be written or reed,
No,--aor said,
.E.acept by a maa with a cold in big head !
A SKETCH BY A SPORTSMAN
• "fawns a fine October night;- I was re
turning home with my gun over my shoul
der, my keeper and dogs had taken a near.
er route, and had carried with them the
!boety of the day. I passed the old Manor
house grounds ; the mansion had been long
unoccupied, save by an old gardener, who
loOked, in his Sunday suit of russet livery,
as if 'the sturdy elms and rugged oaks had.
while be tended them, lent him in grati
tude, something of their rigidity and strength
As my rather had a right of shooting over
the demesnes, I opened the gates and en
tered ; there was a fine lake near the house
nearly covered by trees, and the setting
sun gleaming upon its clear and quiet
breast, reminded me of Scott—
. One lively sheet of burnished gold .
Loch- Katrina lay, beneath hint suited."
lam..n•enthusiastic admirer of nature;
and I stout! to.gase upon the scene as it
lay sleeping in its calm andplacid beauty.
It-,sito,4fie_tn:t of the mouth, and, the
ive*okleititertbnghtend by the golden
Wes ofsunset, added a lustre to the land
seipti; it was truly a scene in which Italian
Claude would have gloried. Just as I had
turned to leave the spot; my steps were ar
rested, my whole attention rivetted by a
voice breaking on the silence ; the tone
was one of gentle yet thrilling harmony,
my imagination told me the singer was as
lovely, and I remained in my concealment.
I had just returned from college, and'
knew not that the Manor-house was a g ain
tenanted, and was conjecturing from whom
such strains could flow. When they ceas- ,
ed, rending was heard among the leaves,
'and a tall, dark-eyed, dark-haired fairy
passed. Unconscious of being seen,
she turned her face full towards me, and
stooped to tie up a luxuriant hop that was
clinging and climbing across the pathway,
then rising, she appl ied
care to the loose
tendrils above ; her thick ringlsts fell back, '
and a bright ray ofthe departing sun made
them appear like waving gold. After a
few minutes she tripped gaily away, ever
and anon her glad voice breaking forth in ,
some brief snatch of a merry song, as if
the joyousness of her spirit sought some
way to vent iLs happiness.
People may ridicule love at first sight, I
and smile contempt at such an idea, but I
have felt and know that it can be, and the
truth of its stability and power is attested
in the fact of my being still a bachelor.
After lingering about the spot, as one en
tranced, till the evening mists Caine with a
zealous care to wrap the silvery lake and
its island children front the stranger's gaze,
I bent my steps homeward. Upon enter
ing the hall, the sound of music came
through the corridors, and told that my ;
mother and sisters, in vulgar phrase, "had
a party ;" and front a damsel of the morn
I learned that my lonely, uncomfortable ;
meal, was laid in the library. I threw
open the door in no enviable mood, and
carelessly sat down, wondering who the
lovely creature I had seen could be. I ate
little, and ringing the bell upon the table,
inquired, in no very placid temper. "Who
arc in the the music-room'"
"The ladies from the Hall, Sir George
and Lady Witstead, Miss Norman, Lord
Ileartbury, Lady Jemina and Lady Celia
Staunton, Captain -"
"'leavens, that's enough ! what a set of
bores ! Take things away, and do not let
me be disturbed, but when 1 ring, scud De
Serre here."
I threw myself along a sofa, in a passion
with myself, the party, but most of all in a
passion because I did not know who the
fair songstress was. After lounging about
for nearly an hour, I rose, and seeing that
the hand of the Cupid upon the alabaster
clocktwas fast approaching ten o'clock, I
rung for my valet, and having accomplish
ed my toilette, entered the music-room,
where, after shaking hands with old ac
quaintances. and bowing to new ones, I
got a scat upon a half-vacant divan, near
my sister. In the midst of a dissertation
with Lord Ilcartbury upon a Joe Manton,
a voice, replying to solicitations to sing,
came upon my ear; I started, and in ano
ther instant the self-same warbler passed
to die piano. She ran her fingers lightly
over the keys, lifted her head and laughed.
"I can remember nothing." she said to my
mother; then she bent her head, and her
beautiful unadorned ringlets closed over
her brow; a minute thus, and the next she
threw back the wavy tresses, struck the
ivory keys, and the song of the lake rose,
echeed, and died through die room. I felt
such an indefinable Neling at my heart,
that I continued to gaze upon the enchant
ress as if every sense, every energy was
centered in her. She rose, and turning
round, met my fixed and ardent look ; a
bright blush mantled her face and neck, and
she moved hastily away. A loud laugh
near me recalled my wandering attention :
it was caused by myself ; my marked re
gard had been observed by all.
"Who is that heavenly creature ?" I ask
ed of Captain Rodney.
"Miss Forester. She lives with her
mother at the Manor-house." replied he,
•but I warn you not to lose your heart for
her, for she's engaged.
"To whom ?" asked 1, scarcely breath
ing.
"To Sir Henry Elliot, of the Lodge."
Had a thunderbolt fallen on my head, I
could not have been more crushed ; Elliot
was my oldest friend, we had been play
fellows in infancy, boys together at Eton,
students at Cambridge, and finally, we
travelled together. Never had aught of
acrimony passed between us, and yet,
never on earth were two more dissimilar
characters. Elliot, all conciliation, warm
heartedness, and firm principle, his very
soul seemed made up of kindliness. I, all
fire, impetuosity, and rashness, a very mir
acle of thoughtlessness. Elliot. always
cool, self-possessed, and polite—l, always'
"witty" and captious. A pair of bright
eyes turned my brain, and if by chance
they wandered towards me, I was enchant
ed.
I have been in and out of-love a hun
dred times, - but even at Almack's, that cen
tre of beauty, Elliot was as calm and pro
vokingly immoveable as ever. Ile was
excessively handsome, with an exquisite
figure, eight thousand a year, an old baron
etcy, and an earldom, in default of the mar
riage of his uncle, an old man of seventy
six; no wonder then that the fair waltzers
of ton put on their brightest smiles for him.
But sunbeams might as well have been
wasted upon the rocks of the Alps. I al
ways thought that nature had left one thing
out of his composition, and that was love
—she had given him all else; but I was to
be taught otherwise. The next day I met
him as he was leaving the Manor-house;
after a few words of hearty greeting, I ex
claimed. "So you are thawed at last, {tar
ry; I hear you are going to be married.'
"Yes," replied ho, with such a smile as
I had never seen before lighting up his ex
! pressive features, am, to the most antia
tile creature on earth ; come with me, rit
introduce you to her."
We turned back ; he was evidently glad
of an excuse to return. Any other man
would have described Agnes Forester as a
beauty ; but, true to himself, he dwelt on
ly upon her mind. We found her at the
easel. Upon our entrancee she turned,
and perceiving Elliot, an expression of
happy in n ocence gathered upon her beau
tiful brow ; there was something so gleeful,
so girlish in her countemmee, and yet so
modest and retiring, that you fell you were
gazing upon the impersonation of purity
and womanly loveliness.
For six months I was daily thrown into
the company of Agnes Forester, and loved
her to distraction. With a confidence that
did his noble mind honor, and my friend
ship and principles full justice, Elliot fre
quently made me the messenger of his
love to the being he was betrothed to ; and
never did a shadow of distrust cross his
'splendid brow when he met Agnes leaning
on my arm, or gazing in my face, listening
with her eyes to tales of sunny Italy, of
which, perhaps, her gallant lover was the
hero. Yes, lie was safe ;he had his secu
rity in his own honor and trust. Who
could look on that face, those clear, unsus
picious eyes, and meditate treachery !
Anil never, never did I love him more than
when I felt that the day that gave him Ag
nes would make my reason totter ; yet I
had not courage to withdraw, for it was
heaven on earth to linger near this gentle
girl, within reach of the sunshine of her
glad smile, and to catch the infection of her
merry laugh and sporting glee.
The fifteenth of the next October was
fixed on for the nuptials, and I heard the
news with surprising fortitude ; but my
heart was raging with the fire my own
rashness had kindled. Two days appoint
ed for the ceremony, Elliot and I parted,
from shooting, at the entrance of the
grounds ; lie to join Agnez, I to gaze on
the spot where one brief year before I had
first beheld her. I had just reached it,
when I heard the report of a gun, followed
by a piercing. scream. I threw down my
fowling-piece and hastened to the place;
a groan of stilled agony, a gurgling., chok
ing shriek burst front my breast as the ter.
rifle sight met my eye—before me lay El
hot, his left arm and side awfully shatter
ed,
and dying., : by his side was Agnes,
senseless. Ile opened his eyes and beck
oned me ; I approached and knelt, while
he spoke faintly and with difficulty :
"Grenville, on your friendship I rely for
comforting Agnes. This is an awful acci
dent, on the very verge of blisss : dear,
dear Agnes, may God protect her. Frank,
if you love me, swear"—and he looked
earnestly in toy face—"that you will be a
brother to my blessed Agnes ; shield, watch
her as I should have done,, and win her
affections if you can—to You I confide
her, and upon your honor l rely; tell her
my last thoughts were of her. No, Gren- '
ville," continued he, upon my proposing
assistance, "I am dying,.l. feel it ; to re
move would only hasten my end. God
1 be merciful to me,"—he moved his lips
as if in fervent prayer,—he took oty hand, A AlAti.-"TiIP men whom I call deter
the grasp of death was in it, "Frank, God wing the name, is nue whose-thoughts and
bless you !" Convulsious came on, death exertions are for others rather than for him
was grappling with his vietim—"Agnes— se lf , whose h g t t rmrp o oo • i s . a d opte d
Agnes I" he screamed, and, as if knelled; jets
• t principle, end never abandoeid what*
lin her ear by a demon, the Shriek recalled heaven am} earth afford meatis of %meow
her senses. Site started to her feet-- plishing, it. He is one who will neither
back were dashed the elusteriug ringkaa. "seek indirect advantage by a spirvirsoit
madly her bands were pressing on her tent-1 roa d , nor take an evil path to seem* a real
pies, and her eyes, set and glazed in her- “ a ciod purpose —Sir Walter Sean.
!ror, stared on her lover—for a seconddeath i •
stood :aloof, as 'if the sight of that 4ppallin , , I SHARP REauxig.-,-"I nevertaioelooth• * •
agon y had startled kith from Ilia prey. I said a country tradesman to his .ported
"Agnes !" breathed Elliot, frighteno.al at' clergyman, "l always speud*ttaalay ttsarst-,.
her fearful state. l ding accounts." 'the minister i010:4111400,',;
"Ha !" she gasped, but the rlgiity of ly replied, "Yost will Chula. sib AO 1h001 1 15t4
I
marble his in her limbs-bloodgusheill of judgement will lo ;spud
from Of :mouth—expression, and form,' wanner." •
TWO DOLLARS PER ANNUM
NEW SERIES-NO; 35.
was lost in distortion—ti scream that wonld
have woke the dead, broke from the ino
- girl, a groan, that told the convul
sion was over, and that earth and heaven
had each its part' f the sit fferer, folloWed it.
I stood then alone, the only living thing
amid the awful slaughter, for /kgries,
with a gurgling laugh of madnees,Vl
from my arms,a corpse, upon her lover.
I have a confused remeMbrance of
ing examindd by a coroner ; something too,
of a funeral and white plumes, passes be•
fore my mind—but all is vague ilia indis
tinct.
Years after this I wandered on the . Ccin- :
tinent, till recalled by toy father's death to
claim the honors and take tile, oaths of a
Peer. I was still yobng, with health,
wealth and rank ; but I woUld ; giveill
erase that day of fearful horror's froth my
memory.
INCIDENT AT A FAIR.--The National
telligeneer, in a notice of a fair now hold' .
ing in that city by the Ladies' Benevolent
Society, relates the follpwing incident :
"One of the cakes—a mighty, compel
nun, the triumphant result of a very hand
some widow's daintiest atudiea—stood
inent above all minor confections, a sort of
president of the cakes, "crowned with a
peculiar diadem" (as Byron has it) of su
gar. By some particular and mysterious.,
virtue in its ingredients, or the conjunction .
of stellar influences under which it was ,
sublimed in the oven, it had been render
ed capable of keeping soundly until, per- ,•
Imps the next Presidential election. At
the end of the evening it was disposed of
by a lottery of thirty chances. Singularly
enough, a gentleman of this city, who had
taken chances as complements to various
ladies present, at last took into his 'head
that lie knew whom the cake would suit, ,
and subscribed for another chance to, the
name of "Henry Clay, of Kentucky ;" and ,
lo ! when the drawing was made, at the
sixth number, out leaped the prize to Har- •
ry of the West! The event (perfectly
fair, a Democrat the drawer)" was hailed
with almost universal applause r and a par
ticularly delighted clapping of fair hands,
The cake is, of course, to be sent to Mr. .
Clay.
THE DOOM OF OCR WORLD.-,-Whlll this
change is to be, we do not even conjecture;
but see in the heavens themselves sortie
traces of destructive elements, and some.
indications of their power. The fragments
of broken planets—the descent of meteor
ic stones upon our globe—the wheeling
comets welding their loose materials at the
solar surface—the volcanic eruptions on
our own satellite—the appearance of new
stars, and the disappearance of others -
are all forshadows of that impending cnn
vulsion to which the systeM of the wprltl
is doomed. Thus placed on a planet which •
is to be burnt up, and under heavens which
are to pass away ; thus treading, as it
were, on the cemeteries, and dwelling on
the mausoleums of former worlds,,let us
learn the lesson of humility and wisdom,,
if we have not already been taught in the
school of Revelation.—Nortft British Re
view.
Remotoes lievivAts.—The religious
papers from different sources of our wide
ly extended country. continue to mention
the existence of unusual religious interest
in their vicinity. In. Plymouth,
there is said to be an unusual degree , of re
ligious feeling pervading one neighborhood:
In Pittsford, and in two churehesin 'Wind
sor county, there is also said to exist nit
unusual degree of religinus feeling. In .
West Bradliird, Mass.. there has existed to
strong religious interest for several months
past. In Ridgefield, Conn., a somewhat
extensive revival has been in progress for
three months. A revival is reported as,
in progress in Pickering, Canada West,
among Baptists ; and among the Metho
dists, in Cayuga Distriet, N. York. We
have reports also of the existence of um.
seal religious excitement in lows, Wiscon•
sin. Illinois, Tennessee, Indiana, Missis
sippi. Indeed, from nearly every section
of the country, we are receiving intima
tions of the existence, hero and there, of
special religious interest at the present
time; and this is not confined to any par
ticular sect or denomination ; and,aa wOuld
appear, not generally the result of soy
special exertiotis, but of the blessings? of
heaven on the ordinary means of religious
improvement.—Re.rion Traveller.
A N °lux Po mo R .-.....8ar0n • Voit
Crone, of the Prussian Army,.who distity
guished himself at the National Bridge,. in! ,
August last, by his courage . and skill, 'arid
also in the engagements whirl% afterward.s,
took place, before the emote:mil under Ml
jor Lally reached Jalapa, has arrived In
New Orleans from Vera Critz. Ttie Oaf
speaking of him, says :
"The Baron was wounded ip the Itiji
at the head of the two companies (MA a
fort at the National Bridge. and wits,:- of
great use to M'ajor Lally throughoui. flu
came to this country by permission of 'flap
king- of Prussia, to serve with our ArMy
in the Mexicali campaign. Gen. Scott, to
whom he brought letters, treated him,o . ipt
marked attention in the city of Mexico,
and invited hint to join his staf. Thp,
fighting being over Nr the present, and the
Baron's absence from Prussia being nePtul'a
sarily limited, he will occupy the reMain
der of his fitne in visiting Cuba, and after-
wards, the United States, en,lits return
!ionic."