' . • . . . .., . . . .. . ar y ....• ...... •I - . •.. , . . . 14 . . ••, ~• . . i ~ . AY M.013:17. 1 1' WITS MILD PITON.) 4 2111.2 4:920E6,21i1D0 -"With sweetest flowers cnrich'd. From various gardens cull'd with care." Wily ARE ROSES RED. In days of yore, ere vice began, Or death became the lot of man. The r 0 -211 all were pare and white, But changed to red in one sad night, When outcast Eve, o'ersvhelm"d with shame, From Eden's blissful garden came. No longer pure, from blemish free, The spotless white we e'er shall see. Eves tears from some effaced the stain Which still, though tinged, their white retain Soon thorns their tender stalks do vest, No more with safety to be prest; Sad emblem which conveys to Man That sorrow came when vice began. THE NEEDLE.—E V WOODWORTH. The gay belles of fashion may boast of excelling In waltz or cotillion—at whist or quadrille; And seek admiration by vauntingly telling Of drawing, and painting, and musical skill— But give me the fair one, in country or city, Whose home and its duties are dear to her heart; Who cheerfully warbles some rustical ditty, While plying the needle with exquisite art, The bright little needle—the swift little needle, The needle directed by beauty and art. If Love have a potent, a magical token, A talisman, ever resistless and true—. A charm that is never evaded or broken, A witchery certain the heart to subdue— 'Tis this—and his army nesse has furnished So keels and unerring, or polished a dart. Let Beauty direct it, so pointed and burnish'd, And oh! it is certain of touching the heart. Be. wise, then, ye maidens, nor seek admiration Be dressing for conquest, flirting with all; You never, whateer be your fortune or station, Appear half so lovely at route or at ball, As gaily convened at a work-covered table, Each cheerfully active and playing her part, Beguiling the task with a song or a fable. And plying the needle with exquisite art. 1 - 2 W-P FROM THE BALTIMORE 310E1731E5T. Irride was not made for Man, A TALE OP THE WEST. UT MEE. LYDIA JANE PEIEOON. In ono of theinfant settlements of the then "far west," in a fair valley between two lofty and forest feathered hills, stood the elegant mansion of the wealthy and proud Mr. Ellsworth, who had mi grated from Philadelphia on the death of an idol ized wife—feeling as if the world had lost all its charms, bud seeking in retirement solace for his grief. He had chosen a most beautiful situation beside the clear river, and pivjected and carried into effect improvements that rendered his part of the valley picturesque in the extreme. The atten tion he bestowed upon his lands diverted his atten tion; and as he had long since contracted a distaste for what is termed society, he was fax happier a mongst the sweet blossoms where the wild birds were singing, than he could have been amongst the pomp and empty complimentary chat of crowd ed rooms or gay assemblies. • Ho had an only daughter, whom he brought with him—a wild, beautiful child of seven years. She was his almost constant companion within door and out,, till he became so much accustomed to her bright face and lively chatter, that he felt but half himself without her. It seemed that his soul was so constructed that it must rest, with in tenseklove, on some object; and since he had lost the idol of his youth, he enthroned her child in the void place she had left. Her, education was his pastime when he was at home. She was a girl of quick and strong intellect, and he taught her with a pleasure that increased as she advanced in know ledge and understanding. • There were several families of poor adventurers settled in the valley who found employment on Mr. Ellsworth's farm; for every day they could spare from their own plantations, and the ready wages they receiveitenabled them to procure many little comforts. Amongst them was a Mr. Melvin, who had come to those parts after losing ricomfor. table property by an unlucky speculation. Ho was a than of good education, and Mrs. Melvin was a woman of no common character. But in a new country all who labor are upon a level, and Mr. Ellsworth was the only exception here.— Melvin had a son about the age of Clara Ellsworth, a smart, iiitelligent little fellow, to whom Mr. Ells worth became so partial that he persuaded his par ents to consign him to his care. Charles was now Clara's companion in her studies, and his proginis was almost wonderful. Clara was his instructress in those branches in which she was advanced, and Mr. Ellsworth paid equal attention to both. They hardly knew in which they found more pleasure, the study or the garden in which they planted and nursed the most beautiful shrubs & flowers. But the ramble by the strearn,the excursion on the hill-side., and the gambol on the green grass of the valley, when Mr. Ellsworth, absorbed by meditation or sumo plan of improvement. suffered them to range at liberty, and amuse themselves as best suited their childish buoyancy of spirit—these were things of real happiness—seasons of delight unal loyed, such as memory paints on ht holiest pages, and loves to review even when her magic eye is growing dark forever. Although it is evident that Mr. Ellsworth was not fond of society, still he loved not the life of an anchorite; and to pass a few hours in the com pany of Mr. and Mrs. Melvin" was a pleasure in which be frequently indulged.. They were both . persons of great conversation a l powers, who had added to their book education much knowledge obtained by close observation, weighed in the bal ance of sound judgment. In fine they had "read mankind" and obtained a thorough knowledge of the world. Not a knowledge of the fashions, fol lies, affectations, and whole routine of coniplimen tary libels of city life, but the deep workings of the heart—the overflowing of the spirit, as it appears amongst the children of agriculture and industry. The city proudly styles itself the World; so might a- garden of tulips style itself a pine forest. Mr. Melvin often remarked that polished society is like a person in full dress; while in the wilds of a new settlement the labyrinths of the human soul are undisguised, and society, therefore, like Adam in Eden, naked and,having no cause for concealment, unashamed. Yet they felt themselves flattered by the attention of Mr. Ellsworth, for the inhabitants of Violet Vale were like the rest of us—bad re publicans. The rich man loved to be honored as great, and the poor acknowledged their littleness by the evident pleasure with which they received his proud attentions. But Charles and Clara . understood not as yet the difference that gold or no gold makei4 between con genial and equally cultivated minds, and each saw in the other an equal in all respects. True, Charles was boldest; but Clara was most wily; Charles was strongest, but Clara was most nimble—Charles 'possessed most fortitude, but Clara had most pa tience. The dark, quick 'eye of Charles scanned the spirit of a glance—Clara's blue eyes penetra ted sweetly to its recesses as the bright heaven beams through the collected waters. They were a beautiful and joyous pair, and it was happiness to look upon them, so innocent, so glad-hearted, so affectionate they seemed. Had life, amongst all her enchantments, aught to overcast their brightness? Mr. Ellsworth regarded Charles almost as a dear child, and looked forward to the time when he should take charge of the farm; thus relieving him of a care which grew more burdensome as his years increased. But, although he had adopted him as a son, ho did not intend that ho should be come really so by an union with his daughter.— No, no; he was too proud for that—too much of an aristocrat. The boy might do well enough; but the connexions! His parents were respecta ble; but ho had several brothers and sisters who would intermarry with the poor and illiterate fam ilies around them, and this would never do. But this mutter gave him no great uneasiness. He had laid his plans. He sedulously instilled his own principles into the mind of his daughter, and re joiced to see them take root, and to find that the little recluse looked forward to days of gaiety with a rich and fashionable husband who would make her the envied centre of high life. Alt! poor girl, little did she think that from the gilded pinnacle to which her ambition aspired it was pos.sible to look with keen and bitter regret on the blissful days of unencumbered delight,wheri she was mistress alike of her own time,inclinations and actions, and there lay no lead on the quick, bounding heart. Meantime her whole delight was the society of her father and Charles; but the lively chat of the latter was more congenial to her young heart,and she relied upon him as upon an only and affec tionato brother. His heart knew no idol but Clara. To servo her, to please her, to meet her smile and hear her glad laugh, his dearest plea sures. And when Mr. Ellswerthismiled with ap probation on their mental attainments, their mu tual labors in the garden, or their joyous pastimes, ho felt a happiness at once pure viel exhale. Mr. Ellsworth was careful to fill his mind with high notions of holier. He taught him to despise dissimulation, double dealing, or any thing that could tarnish his name amongst his felow—fre , quently repeating to him, Do nothing which you feel you could not hoar published without a blush. But, alas! ho was not a Christian. He knew nothing of the power of religion upon the soul.— Ho could not, therefore, teach it to his children. Of course they knew nothing of that deep, sweet humility, that universal love, that steadfast confi dence in Jehovah, th it blessed reignation to the will of God that proves at once the crown of all earthly felicity, the solace of all worldly woe, There was one truly religious family in the val ley,and they were almost wholly strangers to their neighbors. It was said they were Methodists,and that name, at that time, in that place, was an ef fectual barrier to familiar intercourse. A Metho dist was shunned at once from a fear of reproof and a belief that ho had a disrelish for society, nn aversion to all common topics of conversation and concerns of social life. This family, of the name of Manfred, possessed a little farm at the lower extremity of the valley, where the hills, nearing each other, almost walled in the beautiful stream. The flat was narrow, but the hills swel ling gently to the west, were for some distance, susceptable of cultivation, and Mr. Manfred had, by quiet industry, subdued a considerable truct.— , Charles and Clara ono fine day wandered down the river angling, gathering flowers and berries, and amusing themselves in various WayS, until at length they found themselves at Mr. Manfred's door. There was an air of neatness and quiet a bout the house at once attractive and pleasing.— They entered, complaining of fatigue and request ed a little water. Mr's. Manfred received them courteously, and her daughter Anna, apparently about Clara's ago, brought them water and a plate of delicate cakes, of which she insisted upon their partaking. While doing so they spoke in terms of admiration of the beauty of the prospect and neatness of the farm. Anna proposed to show them the garden and fields. All were truly in the highest state of cultivation and beauty, at the end of the walk that traversed the garden. was an ar bor built of lattice work, and closely covered with beautiful bloisoming vines. Within it was furn ished with benches, and at the fair side was a small table on which lay some books. “Is this your study, Miss Annul" asked Clara. "Oh, no! it is our chapel," the sweet girl re plied with a serious smile, •Your chapel! what do you do herer "Wo meet hero in the pleasant evenings and on the Sabbath to read the holy book, to sing praises, to pray, and oiler our humble thanksgivings to our heavenly Father." "Thanksgiving!" cried Charles; "for what are you so very thankful'!" • "Oh! we aro not thankful as we ought to be," said Anna. "Surely our lives, our. health, food and raiment, and the continuance of each to the others are gßtters for which we should continual ly thank Gtid. But were we bereft of all earthly blessings, still the hope of heaven through our blessed Jesus would be matter of ardent praise and gratitude. 'Tis but of little moment bow we fare here, to the truly humble Christian who feels his own unworthiness and praises implicit trust in a righteous Dispenser of events. Yet we have all things plenty. Oh! we are very ungrateful;" and she raised her dark, beautiful eyes with an ex pression" at once so sweet, so meek, so happy that her auditors looked on her with admiration and wonder. i.Charlos," said Clara, as they. walked home ward, "I always thought that religion mane people sad and unsociable; yet this Anna Manfred is as cheerful and agreeable a girl as ono need converse with." t , Sho is so," said Charles thoughtfully; "and now that I reflect on it, who hays is just reason "I WISH NO OTHER HERALD, NO OTHER.SPEAKER OF MY LIVING ACTIONS, TO KEEP MINE HONOR,PHOM CORRUPTION."-SDARS. azat - ermaaiwiteat e vpcista , zgartmgcar e avaa acizm to be cheerful as those who believe the great and good God their friend? Who have as little ria son to be displeased with their fellow creatures as (hose who feel that a' Deity who loves them controls all events? or whb have so little cause for anxiety as those who count this world as nothing, and expect a blessed home in heaven? Clara, I wish I a was Christian!" She made no reply,and al most for the first time in their glad lives they walk ed thoughtfully together. Timn passed on. Mr. Ellsworth WWI getting white-headed. Charles had become a fine 'yonth, and managed business.with judgment and ability. Clara was a beautiful lively being, and but for the wrong bias of her mind might have been content ed arid hrippy, loved and worshipped; but she thought of fashion and fashionable life; and being a subscriber to several frothy, fashionable periodi cals, she adopted the styles of dress delineated on their pages, and longed to mingle in the society of which they spoke so flatteringly, assuming an af fectedly deportment and speaking in the tones of high life when in the society of the simple, artless girls of the valley. Oh! had she been blessed with the guardian carp of a mother or any experienced female friend, to have shown her how preposter ous such things were in that quiet, humble life,and how little reality there is in all the show of happi ness, exhibited by the votaries of fashion, she might have been the gay recluse, acknowledged queen of the sylvan region; but the young girls, though humble and uninformed,saw the unfitness of her carriage, and although.they spoke not light ly of her, they fell in their natures to dispiso affec tation in dress and manner. Charles saw these things with real pain, but he considered them as the ebullitions of girlish vani ty, which would subside in the reason of woman. hood. All the incidents of their early days were graven on his heart. He had loved her from 'in fancy, and foibles which, in another, he would have condemned looked even graceful in her.— The intensity of his love for her seemed the very fire of his spirit's existence. Ho entertained no doubt of her love for him; for on whom else had she ever smiled! With whom beside had she ever rambled? To whom had she ever turned in confidence but him? Who else had shared her jnya and transitory sorrows, or who else had so striven to gratify, serve and soothe her? He saw love in her bright smile and beaming eye; but he could not speak to her of love. He felt as if such an eclaircissement would destroy the fraternal con 7 &lance now existing between them, and create a diffidence that would interrupt the sweet freedom of their present communings. Clara felt nothing of all this; she never dreamed of loving Charles other that as a brother, and she regarded no ono e lse. Mr. Ellsworth was no stranger to either heart. He had watched them narrowly. Ho saw the deep, deep love of Charles in every glance, in every action. lie saw, also that cutra - onty men ed to hear the breathing of his affection to find and acknowledge her heart his own. He, therefore, thought it time to separate them. He had al ways intended, at such a crisis, to send his daugh ter to his brother in Philadelphia under the pre- text of giving her the opportunity of finishing her education at a female seminary; but, in retL:ity, in the hope of her forming a splendid Cliance.— Strange it is, that, having experienced the empti ness of fashionable life himself, he should wish to push his child into its airy circles—that, loving seclusion, ho should not rather have instilled the same love into her bosom; and been contented to see her the happy wife of a generous, respectable and amiable man. But alas! the passions of pride and avarice always strengthen with years; and he who can have but little time to live, and whose capacities for enjoyment are worn out, is most an xious for the accumulation of wealth and the ac quirement of worldly honor. Clara heard of her father's intention to send her to the city with un- mingled delight. To Charles the announcement seemed the bolt of death. For the first time he suspected Mr. Ellsworth's motive, and felt degra ded by it. Ho was then too low foi an husband to Clara! But did she love him? He determined to find out immediately; but Mr. Ellsworth con trived to keep them separately employed when out of hie presence; for he feared that the thought of separation might tell Clara that Charles was dear to her, and embolden Charles to tell his love to Clara. The few days passed hurriedly away, for ho did not declare his design long before the time ap pointed for its execution; and Charles did not ob tain an opportunity of speaking freely to Clara until the evening previous to the appointed morn ing. That day he had been absent on important business, and returned across the Old to look at some cattle,and then approached the house through the garden. Clara sat amidst the blossoms of her favorite honeysuckle bower, her posture was pen sive, and a tear lay trembling in her eyelid. "Clara!" he said, and she started and smiled,