The Columbia spy. and literary register. (Columbia, Pa.) 1848-1848, March 25, 1848, Image 1
ONE DOLLAR A YEAR IN ADVANCE.] AND LITERARY REGISTER. NEW SERIES, VOL. 1, NO. 39.] CHA.RRICK WESTBROOK, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. Office—Front Street. opposite Barr's Hotel Psliication Office—Locust Street, opposite the P. O. 'Mots. —The COLUMBIA SPY is published every Satanist rimming at the low price of ONE DOLLAR A YCAR IN ADVANCE, or one dollar and fifty cents,if not said within one month of the time of subscribing. .smgle comes, THREE CSNTS. Tomos Ativenitst No—Advertisements not exceed ing x Square three tunes fore', and 25 cents for each addnal insertion. 'I hose of a greater length in pro cO-A liberal discount made to yearly adver tisers. ion PnisTleo— Such as Hand - bills, Posting-bibs. Cando, Labels, Pamphlets, Blanks of every description orcoars.etc.rtc..exectited with iratnessanddespatch and on reasonaeleterms. IN VIE MATTER of the intended application of JACOB ROLLAND, to the , Court of Quarter Sessions, at . the April Term. for license to keep a tavdtrn in the township of Cast - Donegar,At betnF an old stand. WE. the under , igned, dratalltrqf Estlrt D onn .' town . slap. m which said tavern ia. , trinictied,Ao ba kept, Do Comfy. that the said inn or tameartirtecessa.o to Recant module the public and et 'tertian stilizift ra tazyj travellers, mid that we are well nequatated..:-w ktlirLstaid Jam% Rolland. and that he lb of good repute foMrcrnesty and temperance, and is w ell provided with "helm room and ecniventence4 tor the accommodation' of strangers and tra,leru. John Bachman. Samuel Maloney. John }Custer, Lam Tttncy, John IV. Cloth. Jacob Litthart, Samuel Nay lor Shill. John H. M. Eagle. Alexander Bach- Mei. 101111 Su. :Much 4.1- it-tit IS THE NiArrcit of the intended application of CEO. u, the Court of Quarter Se..ton9, at the Aprd 'renn. 1-1 , . for her rice to keep a tavvrn 111 the tawnslnp of NVe.l Ilempfield, it belie; an old .tend. WE. the uraler.tgaed Clll,O. of fempfieid toate•lap m , huh tavern 14 propo,tl to he kept. Do Certify, that the soul inn or 1:11,rla I. neee...,try to strewn madam the Nadi , and entertain stranger. and traveller.. and that n e are actin:tinted wlth the %aid George and d u u t u , t . 01 good repute for hone.ty and tempttane, pro oled with house MOM find eent.ona trees for the tiecommodatton of strangers and trateller. , Henry Brarkart. Jacob Camber. John Snyder. Andrew MetJart, Chri-tion Noll. Jaeolt Wet/. John Devehu, J. M Culp. Jacob Will. John I - raly, D. W. Wttmer, 11. A. Hany!eatlobier )larch 1. I.lt-lt rsivr,!,IATTER at the intended imphention of CHRIS TIAN DIT1\'II.I,1:11. to the Court or Se, , dons. at the April Term. I -I-. forheenie to keep a tavern m Writ Ilempfield tonal-hips it being an old WE. the umber-n4ned. enuens of We-t I lempfield which -:lid tavern t, propo , ed to be kept. Do Certn). that the said lint or tavern is neeeiiary to ac commodate the public and entertain , trangerr. told ?ruts thal we are well acquainted wtth the until Cl.rotiall Dila tiler. and that he 1, of root: reptile for hon. es q ari d t•aaperatice, and tti well provided with lanl , e, room nod Con,ille lice , for the acconunodatton of stran ger, and traveller , . Andrew Monger. Jw-tat , Cray, Jacob Hoffman, Jacob V t; re t er , mom& I Imlintin. Jacob Clan.nan N Cinder Jacob Noll. John Manic, John M. Grukr, Jno. haulier. Henry Copeultet fee, March I I-1--3t IN THE tl A'rrEß of the intended application of MAG DALENA GEIGER. to the Court of Quarter Sessions, of the April Tern,. I-1-, t'or license to keep a tavern in Manor township. it tieing an old stand. WI: the undersigned citizen- of Manor township. in which :and tavern In proposed to he kept. I.)i. Cern that the sold inn or tavern 1. nece.sary to accommodate snoopers and travellers. mat that we are well nes gemmed with the said NI ogdolena Geiger, and that she is of paid repute for honesty and temperance, anal is well provident with house room and conveniences for the ac commodation of strangers and travellers. nutty Ilcrr. John W. Engle, Joint Outman. Jr.. Tames Ifaughe Peter Saylor. John Oberdorff. George Imt7., Jacob llola•eker. Ammo. 11 SIIIIMII.II. Peter IlLe,tutlil. .100. Miller 6 1144 r. Samuel Grosh, Bernard NI aim, George G Brush. Jnool. era. N•irih I I-1-.li mArnat of the niteinh.il application of 1:13- WAND JACOBS. to the Court of Quarter Sessions, at the April •Penn, 1-1., tor henna to keep a tavern in I=l I.Vr. ;he Loaler,da•tl alliJells of the I:nroupth of Col unthia.nt wlaeh run tan rut I- proprpoot to he kept, DO Cert.:V. !kart tine ,tal 11111 or trueerlll , neee-,ary to :wet:lm molate the politic Min elitarlOlll -lounger, Mid traveller-. and iliit , te are well acquainted w.th the -rod lAward JacnOpi. and that he is of cowl repute for hune.iy and Onlperillea. and n• well proVoteil DOOM and ealilemallitei for the necommodatton of stranger. and travrtler. 110 . 0. rt Spear. John l'eterlcleinan, I I'iahL r. 11 11 Fry. 1101...rtIccm. A Thonin.:, I..ic Vatw.hen. Win .1. ?Irvin. Lrn. 111.:1,-.•r. .1. Rum- Pio l'rpnel.. A Alotlemvll. 11, Uhal.ant. 1.111,11 1, 1.1-.41 IN THU MATTER attic intended application of MAR GARET BROWN, to the Court of Quarter SC , SIOIIS. at the April Term. 1-1 , , for licen..e to keep n Invert in the Borough of Culumbin, it being an old qiind. WE. tan. under.ogned citizen. of the Borough of Col umbia. in which ...aid tavern in proposed to be kept. Do Ctrtit. that the 'aid tavern is 11VCV.4.111 . y to accommodate the pubhe and enter:ma Ntranger.4 and travelleo, and that Sic are v.•• 11 ltepiankted with the said Margaret Brom a. and thot -he is 01 good repute for honesty and temPor , iiice and I, w , II provided Stith hou-e room and convemenen, for the tte,ollllllodlllloll of ..tranger.- and trai.ell•r• John IS Edward,. :1tolra.•1 Wi.ler, Jr. 11. H. Pry. Pr u•r A Knolnmz. Conirn.l:•.wart, John M'l'all• Joan. Rlllll - W. Couerell. It 01o:di:mt. Peter Haldeman, Jr., John ltr.•nvrr Peter Haldeman. )larch 1. 1^1.,-8t INTIM the intended applientme of CHRIS TIAN NEFF, to the. Court of QuarterSe•sam, nt the April Term. tor heense to keep a tavern in Fal mouth. ui Conoy town,linp. it being an old 'tuna- AVE. the undermgned c nitens of Conoy tow n:lnp. m vrhich 'aid tavern L. proposed to be kept. 1)o Certify. that the can.' inn or tavern t. neeessary to neenrinnodate the public and entertain stranger+ and travellers, mind that we are well acquainted with the .4.1 Christian Neff. and that he icor good repute for 100ne47 and temperance. and is cecil provident with house room and conveniences for the accommodation of strangers and travellers Jobs Vouhees. Jr., Joi n t Linnet% Items; Grove, George Cline. Wm. Hinkel, Benjamin I‘lunick. Abraham Collins, John Hawk. Jacob A. Miller, Frederick Smith, Jacob Albrite. Henry Zook. Marell 4. 1.4--9 t Is MATER of the intended application of SAM UEL AI.I.GEIR. to the Court of Quarter Sessions, at the April Term. 135 , for license to keep a tavern in the Borninzh of Marietta. it being an old stand. tlle undersigned, othrom of the Borough of Mari etta. in which said tavern is proposed to be k.pt, Do Cer tify, that the said inn or tavern is necessary to accommo date the public and entertain strtilloor- and travellers. and that we. are well acquattned with 'the said Samuel All gem and that lie is of good repute for honesty mid tem perance, and is well provided with Loons room and con veniences for the accommodation of strangers and trav ellers. J. F. Eagle. Abraham Cassel, David Cassel, Simon S. Nagle. John Roth, Robert Turner. 'lVrn A. Spangler, Wm. ll Clare, Abraham Varley, Thomas Stenee, David harry. W. Johnston, John Libliart. March .1, 14 -8t IN TIII3 MAT-rErt of the intended appliention of wm. Ll.k:l1 CUMMINGS.. to the Court of Quarter Sessions, at the April Term. for license to keep a tavern in the Borough of Marietta. it being an old stand. IVB, the undersigned, citizens of the 13orough of Mari etta, in which the said inn or tavern is proposed to be Igns Do Certify, that the said tavern is necessary to ac commodate the public and entertain strangers and tray e,lers, and that we arc well acquainted with the said William Cummings, and that lie is of good repute for hon esty and temperance, and is well provided with house room and conveniences for the accommodation of stran gers and travellers. John Miller, Andrew Leader, George Cummings, Wm. Dix. John H. Goodman, Peter Baker, John K. Fidler. Con rad Fidler. Ludwig Leader, Samuel Johnson, David Coa le!, Jr., Henry Coughenour, James Scott, Lawrence limnd !floret% 4,3849-3 t IN THE MATTER of the intended applicalion of MAR TIN ERWIN, to the Court of Quarter Sessions, at the April Term. 1.4.3, for license to keep a tavern in the Borough of Columbia, it being an old stand. WE, the undersigned, citizens of the Borough of Col umbia. in which said tavern is proposed to be kept. Do Cenny. that the said inn or tavern is necessary to ac commodate the public and entertain strangers anti tray pliers, and that we are well ucqunuiten with the said Mar tin Erwin, and that he is of good repute for honesty and temperance. and is well provided with house room and conveniences for the accommodation of strangers and travellers. Conrad Swart,. James Long, Robert Hamilton. John Vaughan. Jonas Rumple. John H. Edwards, Roh't. Spear, John Jacob Luttman. John Lowrey, Peter say tor. J. W. Cottrell, Isaac Vaughan, J. 11. Hunter. March 4, Iti49-st THE COLUMBIA SPY MACHINE POETRY. Tuxs—" FrOM Greenland's Icy Mountains.. From Greeceland's :ley fountains, From Texas' sunny strand, Where bears and catamounttuns Creep slyly o'er the sand ; And from each ancient river, And o'er each palmy plain, There's physic to deliver Our bow-ow-els from pain. Shall man, the reasoning biped, The favored from on high, Shall be to man begriped The appeasing pill deny Ye noble BRAGG ! Oh. Peters! Long may your physic stand, Till fevers and musketers Are pur-ged from the land. Waft, waft, ye winds their physic ! And you, ye waters roll— Till every one that is sick Is cured. from pole to pole; Till to an ailing nation Blest health come again And over all creation In bliss returns to reign. From !he New Monthly Magn,nte THE EXCHANGED GARMENT. A. TRUE TALE Or EN(.I.ISII incal LIFE. It is a very extraordinary thing, Susan, that the laundress never will send home my things right. Every week there is sure to be some mistake. I'm sure I'm very sorry, mem! I always de sires her to be so particular.' She seems to pay no attention, then, to what you say to her. Last week she lost one of my best cambric handkorchiefa; the week before she could not account for that pretty fichu, and now there's another article missing.' Indeed, mem! Why, I counted the linen over when it came hntne, and it quite agreed with the bill. I'm sure the number was all right.' • The number—yes—perhaps sot—but what do you call this . 2 This thing certainly can't be mine. It looks as if it belonged to a man ! 'Good gracious me, mem, and so it does! Well, I never! As sure as I live, it's a gentleman's— wlint's-hismame. How could it have got there 1' ' Through the woman's carelessness of course. Look at it, Susan, and see if there's uny name or mark upon it, that you may discover whose it is.' • Oh deur me, mem, I should not like to touch it. I knows nothing about. gentlemen's wearing apparel.' You know my things from other people's, I hope. Stuff and nonsense, do as tell you. I dare say it belong's to the person's husband.' 'Oh no, mem, that it can't. They're very poor people, mem. He couldn't afford to wear anything half so good as this. Look at the fineness of the !inning, mem, and then the frill is real Bristles lace !' Indeed !--it's marked, I suppose ?' ' Ob, yes, mem, here in the corner. Grncious goodness, if it ain't a crownet most beautifully worked, and the letter N under it. To think of that !' A coronet, indeed and the letter N Do you know who she washes for ?' Oh dear me, no, inem—f never asked such a question.' NVell, make n point of asking now. Take the thing away, and be sure you desire Mrs. Jones—if that's her name—to take it back directly, and send home my proper garment. It's perfectly ridieu lous.' The above colloquy took place one morning in the dressing room of Mrs. Trevelyan, a very pretty young widow who occupied the first and second flours of .53 Harley.street. In early life—when barely eighteen—she had made a marriage fie eon renanre, or rather it had been made for her, fur she had no voice in the matter, an uncle, upon whom she depended, being the sole arbiter of her fate. The gentleman who espoused tier, in spite of his sixty years, and disparities not leas remark able than age, looked forward to a long life of hap pineal' with the beautiful Ethelinda Maltravers ; and such was the charm of her disposition, and the natural sweetness of her temper, that he might nut perhaps have been deceived, but for one of those accidents to which flesh is unfortunately heir to, and which grow thicker round our path as it draws nearer to the goal: the fact is, he died one day of influenza, after a brief union of a little more than a year. That be was sincerely attached to Ethelinde, the manner in which lie disposed of his property made sufficiently clear. He left her sole executrix, and the succession consisted of a fine landed estate in Devonshire, and the sum of twenty thousand pounds in the Three per Cents. But Mrs. Treve- Iyan did not come into the property without oppo. sition ; the will was disputed by the nearest niale relative, and a law-suit was the consequence. This was the cause of her being in a temporary rest. dente in London at the time when the preceding conversation occurred, for had she consulted tier own inclination, tier footsteps would never have wandered, in the month of June, from her beautiful groves and gardens at Torcombe in spite of the attractions of the London season. In London, however, she was; and much of tier time was taken up in interviews with lawyers and men of business, so that, except a late drive in the park, or an occasional party to dinner, or at the opera, Mrs. Trevelyan saw little of the gay life in which she was so well qualified, both by nature and accom. plishments to shine. Of the claimant to her late husband's estates, she knew nothing more then that he was a young man of rank, who, like many of his class, was in want of money to meet ex pensea and relieve incumbrances, and she believed he was abroad, though probably hastening home. ward, as the period drew near for bringing the lawsuit, in which lie had embarked by the advice of friends, to a close. Though naturally unwilling to forego all the advantages of her position, which she had gained by her own exemplary conduct, and conscious at the same time that her retention of Mr. Trevelyan's bequest was no ruinous depri. vation of the rights of the next heir, Ethelinde would willingly have agreed to an amicable coin proMise, by the advance of any reasonable sum of money to meet the alleged necessities of the young nobleman, tier antagonist. But the affair was so entirely in the hands of the lawyers that no oppor tunity offered of propoaing terms to the principal, and, moreover, Mrs. Trevelyan was so uncertain of his 'whereabouts,' that she could find no direct means of communicating with him. Matters were, therefore, left to take their course. tloctrn. Select Laic. COLUMBIA, SATURDAY, MARCH. 25, 1848 Half:past seven was striking by the clock 4 St. James' Church, as Lord Norham dismounted at the foot of the steps leading into the Albany-in Piccadilly. After glancing pleasurably at -the beautiful thorough-bred bay which he had ridden, and examining with some care, one of the animal's• shoulders, which seemed less glossy than the rest of his coat, Lord Norham patted the 'poor fellow' on the neck, and with a word of instruction, con signed him to his groom, and went in to dress for dinner. This,' he said as he walked towards letter D., where he was housed in a friend's chambers—.this is one of the great discomforts of civilized life! To be compelled to put on a formal dress for tho hours which offer the greatest enjoyment: to case one's self up in a starched cravat and stiff coat, when inclination would lead one rather to throw both aside. These are amongst the penalties One must pay for living in the society of great cities. Oh, the unspeakable comfort of wearing the loose, say robe of the East, or the neglige of the shores of the Mediterranean! Oh, the delicious nights on the rooftops of Damascus, on the deck of my owyt,Gulnare, or in the patois of Grenada! What a contrast to the fettered existence to which I have been compelled to return! Bin, unluckily, one can obtain nothing in this world without money, and money I certainly want. I wish I could have lingered through another winter at .Malta, in Greece, in Sicily, in dearest Naples—anywhere rather than have returned borne, though it is the season ! But those friends, those friends—who will take greater care of your interests than you do yourself, and who make you follow the customs of the world, accusing you of apathy, disregard of aelfrespect, and want of consideration for others, if you fail to adopt their views or act up to their wishes ! But for them I should never have enter. cd into this troublesome law-suit. What did it signify to me to whom my old cousin, Trevelyan, left his money? lie had a right to do as lie liked with it, fur he made the greater part of it in India by the sweat of his brow. And, forsooth, because he succeeded to a landless house—all his patrimo ny—and made it, by his 'wealth, the centre of a large estate, the lawyers must interpose and say that the nearest of kin has a claim. Not that I should have the slightest objection to his property, if he had left it to. me in his will ; on the contrary, for it would have prevented me from doing what, most likely, I shall be obliged one day to do, mar ry an heiress for the sake of her money; but I hate the bore of a law-suit, ripping up all one's private concerns, and laying them open to the staring public, besides a world of misconstruction as to conduct and motives. I know nothing of Mrs. Trevelyan, but from what I have heard, she always conducted herself very well, and to say the least of it, she deserved some compensation for the sacrifice site made in marrying a man sa old and yellow as my uncle. They say, too,,eghe is very pretty; it's the money makes the people say that, I'll be bound. I'd lay a. heavy wager she is not half so lovely as that fascinating creature who was so frightened to-day in the Park. I wonder who she can be ! The carriage had only a simple ci pher on the panels, and the servants were in the plainest possible livery, but she is certainly some body ! So much beauty and such dignity of man. nor cannot belong to a parvenu. It was lucky I rode up as I did, or that stupid coachman would decidedly have upset the carriage into the Semen tine. I was afraid Conrad had hurt his shoulder, as he rushed past the tree into the water, but we got off with a few plunges and splashes. She looked pale, certainly, but when she smiled her thanks, her color came back, and even my own loved Damascus roses are nut brighter than the glow on her check.' Lord Norham had by this time reached his apar ments, where his attentive valet-de.chambre, an Italian, who had travelled with him for three years, was in readiness for his toilet. The young noble. man, in a somewhat abstracted mood, proceeded with his task but his obstruction was not so great as to prevent him from making a sudden exclama tion, when he got about half way through the operation. Why, what the devil's this, Antonio?' he cried out, abruptly: 'l'm not going to a masquerade ' Milor ejaculated the astonished valet. ' Yes, you may well stare; see here! Why, it's something you must have picked up in the Le vant. What a ridiculous shape ! It looks as if it were made for a woman !' And Lord Norham, as he spoke, displayed a very delicately-wrought arti cle of raiment, of the finest linen, with a frill run ning round the top, of the most transparent cam bric, edged with the richest Valenciennes lace. It was, moreover, curiously cut,' so as to give a very graceful contour to the upper part of the garment, and a little way down in the centre appeared two small crimson letters. 'Corp° di bacco!' exclaimed the Italian, who was a married mrtri, though he led a bachelor's lire ; a una carnicia da donna!' 'A camicia, is it! How the deuce did it get here? You didn't open Mr. Percival's wardrobe by mistake? that, perhaps, would have accounted for it.' `No, Milor! I could do no such ting, for de Signore Percival take his keys along vid him ven he lend your lordship his slumber.' How came it here, then 7' Upon my V r•.A !..Upon my vord, rnilor, Ido not know. Perhaps de lavandaja shall have make some mistake, and send you home some lady's dress instead of your own.' Well, you must see about it. Meantime give me something that I can wear. Curious, to send me such a thing, and ynu not take any notice of it ! It's very fine looking stuff?' 'Oh. yes, milor, I never° see noting finer, and my vile, she have a great dea.i to do in this way at Napoli.' 'Atter all, the shape is a very pretty one. I wonder who the owner is! I thought I saw some initials ; what are they 7' Eccole, due, lettro !—two letters, E. T., and some figures, a 2 and a 4.' 'E. T. 24 !' mused Lord Norham; 'I wonder who she is? It would be worth while trying to End out. I say, Antonio,' he continued, as he finished the bow of his cravat—for in spite of his objections to modern costume. Lord Norhatn piqued himself on the skill of his tie, an accomplishment really acquired at Oxford—' make a point of asking the laundress what the lady's name is, end, do you hear, don't send the camicia back till I tell you. I shall recollect, milor,' returned Antonio, with a s:nile. Your lorship's cab is at de door.' And in a rev seconds, Lord Norham was whirling through the streets, on his way to Grosvenor Square, the images or pretty women and wetly garments contendinglor mastery over .he claims of salmis and supreme'. The Duke of Derbyshire gave a concert that night at Derbyshire House, at which all London was present. Ethelinde was amongst the guests, chaperoned by her aunt, the Honorable Mrs. Rush. worth. It was the first Brent party she had been to since she came to town, for she had refused to go out generally, pendenie life, but Derbyshire House is an exception to all rules; no one refuses to go there. It is not merely on account of the fashion which the dukes virtues confer, the.posi five agremens which they offer, nor the kind and courteous welcome given by the noble host to his guests, though these are nowhere to be met with in so great a degree, but. because there is a charm about then., the secret of which has neser yet been discovered, which so completely distinguishes them from all others. At Derbyshire House, the light has no glare, the music no noise, the flowers breathe perfume only ; every one smiles naturally ; there is no gene, no crowd; all wear an spect of happiness; and as far as society alone can make people happy, they are co there. In spite of the uncertainty of her position, .Ethe. Linde also felt happy. She was young and beauti. ful, and the buoyancy of youthful spirits drove back those phantoms of the future which are ever draw ing near to deform the prospect with their gloomy shadows. But here, though she knew it not then, was an incomplete happiness, for she had not yet known the pain of loving, and until that pain be felt, happiness is merely an image reflected in a mirror. Was she destined to remain long in this state of ignorance 'I A few minutes decided the question. After listening with rapture to strains of the most exquisite music, Mrs. Rushwortli and Ethe linde left the concert room, to wander through the range of beautiful saloons which extend on either hand, admiring at every step some charming pie lure, some perfect piece of sculpture, or some work of art, as rich as it was rare. They had nearly completed the tour, when their progress was slightly obstructed by the tall figure of a young man, who was leaning thoughtfully in a doorway. The rust ling sound of their dresses, however, recalled his attention, and he drew to one side to allow them to pass. In doing so. he turned toward them. and, to Ethelinde's surprise, she recognized the gentleman who had come to her assistance that afternoon in the park, and lie beheld the lady of whom, in spite of himself, he had since then been constantly think ing. Mrs. Trevelyan could do no less than bow in re cognition of the service he had performed, and it was at least a necessity on the part of Lord Norham to speak. I hope,' he said, 'you have not sufFnred from the flurry—l suppose I must not say fear—which your unruly horses excited to-day ?` • Oh, you are right to think I was afraid,' replied Ethelinde, earnestly, 'for really the situation seem ed dangerous.' I dread, then,' Lord Norham smilingly returned, lest my ignorance or awkwardness should have contributed to your alarm.' • On the contrary, I feel perfectly certain that, if you had not seized the horses' heads, the carriage would have been overturned. It was very kind to venture so much for n mere stranger.' That was a common impulse, though accident summoned me to do what I would most have pre ferred. But, alter all, in society—in the world— there are no strangers. It was decreed by fate that I should meet you here to-night; the same thing would have happened bad we both been in Rome or in Cairo.' Are you so much au predestinarian?' laughing. ly asked Ethelinde. Does nothing happen but what is pre.ordained 1' Nothing—of consequence.' But what can be more inconsequential than this casual encounter?' ' Perhaps only that of this afternoon.' ' Nay, there you are wrong. I should bo very ungrateful if I ranked them equally' Forgive me—l ought not to have implied any doubt ; but do not fall into the error of overestiina. ting the very trifling service I was so fortunate as to render you.' Your Creed of fatalism does not,'T hope, exclude gratitude from the list of voluntary efforts.' ' It would be presumptuous to assign it so much scope. Fute only prepares the wny ; it disposes of those accidents which are material ; the mind ac complishes the rest.' flint is not the mind, according to your theory, predisposed ?' Yes—to the reception of a particular theme ; tint the same cause often produces very opposite effects. It is like sowing an unknown seed. The earth fructifies every germ alike, whet her the plant which is to spring from it be sweet or bitter, a remedy or a poison.' You have examined these things seriously.— Where have you studied ?' ` In the East; not always in solitude, but. often far from the haunts of men.' You have travelled much, then 7' 'I have seen many places, and some varieties of mankind—but not enough for the purpose which originally impelled the to travel.' And you have returned with your object unac complished 1 What caused you to relinquish their pursuit ?' I believe,' said Lord Norham, looking intently ut Mrs. Trevelyan. 'yes. [ am sure it was fate!' The Honorable Mrs. Ftu.bworth most have been a lady endowed with great good nature, or a very rare patience, to have allowed this colloquy to en dure without offering to interpose a word; but there are limits even to feminine forbearance, and now she spoke I see,' she said, 'you are arguing in a circle; be sides, the duke is looking round him, a sign that the music is about to recommence. Come, Effie node, let us go to the concert room.' Lord Norham bowed to Mrs. Trevelyan's grace ful inclination as she passed on; I am not sure, even, that their eyes did not meet; but he did not attempt to follow—at least, not then. Who is your new acquaintance, Ethclinde inquired Mrs. Ilushworth ; be can only have just returned from abroad, for I don't think I ever met him before.' *I am as ignorant as you, aunt, who my de liverer is, and you know also as muck of my ad venture.• 'He is a very distinguished looking person, at all events,' said Mrs. Rushworth. Ethelinde thought he was even something more, but she said nothing. When the carriages were called that night, there was at least one attentive listner in the hall with many pintas; and it was not without a thrill of pleasure, as he handed Mrs. RusliwOrth and her fair companion to their brougham, that Lord Nor. ham heard the footman give tho word Fifty. three, Harley street.' =I When Lord Norham woke on the morning after the concert, the first word which he uttered wa■ Ethelinde,' and a long sigh followed the exclama tion. Antonio, who was in the room, busied about his usual avocations, hearing his master stir, pre. Burned that he spoke to him, and therefore address ed hint: Milor is awake?' He received no answer, but continued, I have got some news about dat cami cia. I have discovered to whom it belong—a very nice lady! very beautiful, very rich !' 'ls that you Antonio? What are you talking about 7 I wish you would hold your tongue!' • Oh. very well. osi lor. I only thought your lord. ship would be glad to know about do camicia.' • Hang the comicia,' said Lord Norham rather petulcntly; 'what can it signify to me whose it is?' • I knew vere dc lady live, milnr.• •And I care nothing about it. If he could tell me what I do want to know: he muttered, ' it would be something to the purpose.' ,e , [81,50, PAYABLE AT SIX MONTHS. 'La lavandaja—de vashingvoman—have been here lste last night, miles, and she tell me de owner of de chemise live at Nombare Fifty-tree, Harlay Strit.' What du you say?' cried Lord Norharn. start ing up in his bed, with a degree of energy that astonished even the trained Italian, • where?— what?' Antonio repeated the intimation ' Make haste,' said Lord Norham, "give me my dressing gown. Stay, stay, you were speaking of the camicia ; you have not sent it back. I hope • Certamente no, milor. Your lordship say I was to keep him till furder ordares.' • True—and you have it here V ' Yes, milor: Bring it me, directly.' The order was promptly obeyed ; and to any one but a native of a southern clime, accustomed to ve hement demonstrations, the eagerness with which Lord Norh a m seized the garment, and the thousand kisses lie imprinted on the unconscious linen, would have been matter for never-ending astonishment.— An English valet would have thought of his own safety, or—if he had been awake to it—of a com mission of lunacy. Antonio merely waited to see, how long the passion would last—it was not qUelt. ly over. ' Ethelinde! Ethelinde!' exclaimed Lord Nor barn yen, here is the dear initial, E. But what does the other letter mean ? T!—T ! I heard the name of Rushworth—• The Honorable Mrs. Rush worth'—thut, 1 suppose was her mother. Well, it may be so, still: her daughter by a first marriage— no doubt of it. What grace! what beauty! I never thought that English women could be so supremely lovely! I must find out all about her. I don't think she is engaged—she did not look as if another occupied her thoughts. Well, this lawsuit has led to something that the lawyers who devised it never dreamt of. It may take its own course for what I care, provided I can once more see my own, my dearest Ethelinde!' But the law is more prosaic than even lovers imagine. and Lord Norham was scarcely dressed before he received a letter from Essex street, in forming him it was absolutely essential to his in terests that he shonld attend that morning, et ele. ven o'clock, to meet that eminent counsel, Mr. Scatterdust, to discuss finally the question of the succession to the estate of the late Mr. Treeelyan. The letter was signed 'Gabriel Quirk,' and prayed his immediate attention. • Whet an infernal bore!' he exclaimed as he threw down the missive ; • I suppose I must attend —indeed, I may as well go there as any where else, at such an early hour. or course, she is not up yet. Antonio, desire Stevens to be here with the cab at a quarter to eleven, and let me have sonic breakfast.' We leave Lord Norham to discuss his meal with such appetite as love has left him, and return to Harley street. It was twelve o'clock, and Ethelinde had not yet left her boudoir,though she had been up some hours, and the restlessness which haunted her couch put , sued her when she quitted it. She had tried to read, but could not fix her attention on the page, and now she sat at an open secretarie, with paper before her and a pen in her hand, but her thoughts refused to flow, or wandered from the subject of her intend ed correspondence. Absorbed in a reverie, which, to judge by the sweet serenity of her features, ap peered a happy one, she had suffered some one to tap twice at her door unregarded, but the third knock roused her attention, arid she bade the in truder come in. It was Susan, and her countenance bore the signs of recent excitement, for her color was high, and her eyes sparkled. •• What is the matter, Susan ?' asked Mrs. Trevol yen. calmly. • I begs your parding, mem, but I never heard tell of anything like it. To go for to keep a harti de of dress like that, and then refuse for to restore it when perlitcly basked, is one of them things as I can't bring myself to understand, he positively üb keg to send it back, mein !' 'To send what back, Susan 1 I really don't know what you mean.' • Why, tnem, it's all about your apparel, mem.— I scolded the laundress finely yesterday, nod she promised to do her best to find it. She knew at once who the other thing belonged to—a young no bleman as is living in the Hnlbany—and in the evening she went there and saw my lord's wally. de.shain, and said as how she supposed there was some mistake, end that the linning had got mixed. At first he said, in his gibberish, for Mrs. Jones says he is ono of them mad forriners, that he didn't know nothing at all about it, but Mrs. Jones says he was a lurfin when he spoke, which convinced her that he know'd where to set his ands on it, and he begged he'd be so good as to look, for that the lady was in want of the hartiele.' • That was very ridiculous,' said Mrs. Trevelyan, blushing as she spoke. •I wish you would finish the stupid story.' lam sorry I ever mode any in quiry upon the subject.' • Well. mem, Mrs. Jones was only a-doing of what she thought her duty, for I'd said to her, ' Mrs. Jones,' says I, • don't let. me see your face again without that there end so she went again to the HAlbany, and taxed my lord's wally with s having of it; for she'd been round to every one as she washes for, and know'd it couldn't be nowhere's else ; and what do you think, niein, was the hanser as the himperdent teller give her P • Dear me! how can I possibly tell?' To think of having one's thoughts disturbed by such non sense as this!' _ He said, mem—it's as true as I stand here— my lord, mem—had locked it up in his own buro, and that ho was ordered to pay for it, for that it wouldn't be given back to nobody but the hoaner • I never heard of anything so absurd! And did she really come away without it ?' 'She was forced to, mem. But she wouldn't give up the ether thing, no how, mem. The wally larfed and joked in his forrineering manner, and said, as how it was of no use to you, mem, and that she'd much better give it up, for he wanted to wear it his-self, as he was a.going to the hopperer this heavening; but Mrs. Jones couldn't be persu.id. ed to, and so the trumpery hatticie is come back again, mem!' ' I must say, I think it very singular conduct,' observed Mrs. Trevelynn, compelled by the strange. ness of the affair to take some notice of it. • Have you any idea of who this young nobleman is? not that it is of any use knowing; indeed, it would be better not to be acquainted with his name, except to avoid him if one happened to meet him. 'Oh, yes. mem—Mrs. Jones knows; she did mention it to me, but I never pays no attention to gentlemen's names ; I can ask her again, mem, for she is down stairs now.' Susan departed on her errand without any op. position from her mistress, and presently returned with the required information. 'Gracious me! Would yon believe it? It's as true as I live, but the gentleman, mom. is young Lord Dlnrham. poor Mr. Ttevelyan's nephew.' • Lord Norliam !' said Mrs. Trevelyan. in astonish ment. • Impossible, Susan; Lord Norharn is not in England!' ' Oh, yes, mem—he is; he came home about ten days ago: the wally said it was very sodding, for [WHOLE NUMBER, 930. they was in Italy, Rome, and Naples only, it might be about a month since.• That accounts then,' said Mrs. Trevelyan, to herself, • for Mr. Quillet's desire that I should re main in town. Lord Norham carries on a strange sort of warfare; he not only seeks to deprive me of my estate, but lays violent hands on my personal effects. What can be mean by it 1 Order the car riage, Susan ; as soon as I am dressed I shall go to Mrs. Rushworth'e Lord Norham's groom had dismounted, and was crossing the pavement to knock at No. 53, Harley street, when a pretty brougham (a brougham is pretty sometimes, despite the association) drove up to the door. Lord Norham recognized not anly the mazarine blue carriage, and the spirited cream colored horses that drew it, but caught a glimpse of their fair owner; and recalling his servant, leapt lightly from his saddle, and approached the car riage window. • I don't know how I find myself here without invitation,' he said; but lam fairly caught in the act. I wished to pay my respects to—to,' he hesi tated for a moment, and then, with an effort. brought out, 'Mrs. Ilushworth.' -- "Ethelinde saw his artifice, and smiled. My aunt,' she replied, 'does nut live here. I have just come from her house in Grosvenor street.' Lord Norham appeared to take no notice of the explanation. Allow me,' he said, 'to assist you from your carriage, and,' he added, in a subdued but earnest tone, to explain the motive of tny appearance. Ethelinde bowed gravely, accepted his proffered hand, and they entered the house together. When they reached the drawing-room, she took a chair near one of the windows, and motioned to Lord Norham to sit down also, for she felt too much agi. tated to speak. He did not, however accept the invitation, but stood for a few moments, irresolute, as if uncertain how to commence a conversation which lie had sought in so unusual a manner. At length lie spoke: -- I am sure,' he began—' that is—l hope—you will forgive the step I have taken, in presenting myself before you without an introduction ; but the truth is, I expected to have been able to plead as my apology, a friendship which I formed in the East with a relation of Mrs. Rnshworth. Had I known to whom I was speaking last night, before the party broke up, I should not have been placed in this awkward predicament.' 'You have characterized it rightly,' returned Ethelinde, with some degree of coldness; the atria. tion is, at least, peculiar.' I am afraid,' said Lord Norham, advancing a step nearer—' I am afraid I have offended you,and, heaven knows, that is the last object of my thoughts; but, what shall I say—l could not resist the temptation of making an inquiry after you this morning, particularly when I mad led to believe that you were the sister of the Wit who saved my life as I was travelling last year between Beyrouth and Damascus.' . Indeed exclaimed Ethelinde ; were you the Englishman whose escort fled when attacked by a party ut Bedouins in the Lebanon, and whom my cousin Charles was so fortunate as to rescue ? He wrote to us about the adventure, but, with the care lessness that marks everything he does, never told us who he had assisted, contenting himself with say ing, that it was a feature of life in the desert which had led to very agreeable consequences.' . It was no other titan myself to whose aid he carne so opportunely, or I might not have lived to tell the story ; though, after all,' and this was said with an accent of bitterness—' life is, perhaps, a questionable blessing.' 'Surely not,' observed Etheliddc, 'if it enables us to render any, the slightest service to our fellow creatures: • But my life, I fear,' said Lord Norham, is des tined to be a torment to others, even against my will. At this very moment, while lam speaking to you, I am in the act—passively, it is true—of in flicting a most serious injury upon a person whom I have never seen, and whom, moreover, 1 have every reason to respect.' But you are not such a fatalist as to believe that you have not the power of preventing yourself from doing wrong ?' 'Certainly not, in my own person, but there are circumstances when ono is compelled to allow others to act for one.' I can conceive no combination of events so compulsory as to make one act against one's own conscience, either in person or by deputy—that i■ to say, if you entertain feelings such as you de. scribe.' Lord Norham gazed intently on the animated speaker, and her words fell on his car with the conviction of tr uth. • You are right,' he said, • and whatever it coats me, I neither will bo a wrong-doer mystlf, nor suf fer wrong to be done in my name. It will, at any rate, console me for the brevity of this interview. which I fear will be my first and last ; for,' he con tinued, with a melancholy accent, ' I must none more be a wanderer.' • Yon will not leave—that is—quit England, without allowing my aunt to make the acquaint. ante of her son's friend, without'—she hesitated— 'without giving me the satisfaction of knowing who it was that rendered me an essential service, to whom I . am indebted, perhaps, for my life, • And have I been so utterly forgetful of all the laws of courtesy as to continue anonymous ? Heavens! yes. I gave my card to my groom to deliver at the door, and forgot that you could not have received it. My name is Lord Norliam.` Had a mine been suddenly sprung in the draw ing room, Ethelinde could not have been more astonished than by this announcement. She started to her feet, and became pale and red by turns, as the various thoughts which that name excited awoke rapidly within her. She beheld at the same moment the enemy of her social position, whose success would involve her in comparative ruin, the bizarre young man who had acted so ri. diculously about the disputed garment, and—she could not disguise it from herself—she saw before her one who evidently regarded her with no com mon interest. That she was perfectly unknown to him, seemed quite certain, for he had mistaken her for Mrs. Rushwortles daughter, but then what could have made him act so absurdly in other respects 7 He surely did not mean to speak to her on the sub ject! Tho bare idea made her feel es if she were about to sink into the earth ; she would rather have lost a thousand law•«nits than have run the risk of this unhappy restitution. Amazement, fear, mist. trust—so many contending emotions were imprint. ed on her countenance, that Lord Norham gazed on her in mute wonder. Ethelinda felt the embar rasament of their mutual position, and made an cif:in to recover herself. • I was so unprepared,' she said, • so surprised to hear yonr lordship's name, that—that—.l beg yea will excuse me'—and she leant against her chair (or support. • Gracious heaven!' he exclaimed, • what is the matter 7 What have I unfortanately said to cause this alarm 7' and he took her hand as she spoke: • Ton will understand all,• replied Ethelinde.diss engaging herself, • when I tell you that I—.4m-sae widow of the late Mr. Trevelyan It was Lord Norham's turn to be astonished, but his astonishment soon gave way to rapture. Etite.