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WILLIAM LEWIS, -
JOHN S. RICHARDSON,
TIE SUMTER BANNE Rt
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From the MtdIel Anerican Courier.
Blonadel nad RZiehard
iv S. A. ST'ART.
A form more active, light and s!rong.,
Ne'cr shot the ranks of war along,
The muodcst, vet the mnly mien,
Mlight grace the court of mnniden <iuecen."'
It was moonlight-most pure and
lovely-h:ttlhitg itountain and vallev,
river aid plain-sooithiti ofl the
jagged and harsh outlines that dlav
light brought f' rtht into glatring defur .
mity, and shading into softness, with
i. its veil of silver, beauties that were al
most too brilliant, when seen by the t
light of the sun.
i'was true lover's evening-just
such a itne as I'tnd hearts speak best
of love, with the pale p'lanet looking
(lowt upon themt as she had ever done
before and since. It was now bentiiig t
upon two beings, with hearts as loyal
and true as ever beat beneath her revs.
The gentle Alice, old Sir ledbori.'s lair
tqglter., had stolen forth with her
' i-rialiden, to keep her tryste with lier
lover here in the greenwood ; and the
tiinid maid started every now and
then as the rustle of the toliage, stirred
by the night breeze, came upon her1
ear-antd htert sweet lips trembilied,
tthougmh he, whio now stood at hert side,
hltedintg thle little hand int his tend cl asp
was a1 stal watt Ittrm, who seemed fully
capablei to do iis dutty ini proteectinug
the young mtaidetn.
"~ I mutst hbeste, else my~' good f-n her
wvill awvaketi,' satid~ I he sweet, t remlng~t
voice. "Oht !lhow I wish that lie loved
youl, and thten you could comeC 'tieath
is own roof. Indeed, Sir Mintstrtel,
I like not these forbidden interviews."
"'Tis our last, gentle Alice-at,
least for a long time," sighied the young
inan. " Ere I again behold yout, my
teet imutst travel over many a league.
So, give me some moments yet, whilst
I swear, beneath this pture light.. to
love thee ever as now, ande to elingi
to.your memtory, whether int court or
itn camp. oni the b'attlefieldl or at tour
nament-and to Iold it as preeiotus as
1 nowv do the moments you so grtudg
mlgly giant mec."
" Not gr-udgingly. D)o not say it,
for yott know Ifall well how angered i.s
my father against yot. Yes, certe !
though I be his ontly child, he woutld
senid mte forth froml his love as inigrate.
were heo a'&are that I mett you, !!ott
del. Ohi yott know atli thtis, gentle
Sir, buy~ yotu cannot say htis hat red to
one pf your calling ! Futrthiermore, Ito
dpares that no vassal of France shallI
-ever wed his Saxoni Alice."
"And yet, otur tnoble Kintg, Richtard,
hie ofthte Lion Iheart, for whtom youir
father still mntourns, and sighs to see
hinm on his rightful thronet, to tlie
crusintg of the usurper Lacklad
even he, my friend and maister, is of'
Norman blood-his mother a princess
of France. But, I blame not you, my
A lice ; arn old man's prejudice is ever
strong. Only promise to love me,
atid to keep faith with me, whilst I
wander forthi~ i y pilgrimage. Smni e
ont mte, tty gentle oneo, and pray our
lady, and the holy saints to have mte
in their htoly keeping ; say, itn yottr
owni honiced tonies--'htet thee bar!:,
to thine otwn Alice, for shte will not
be light of love."
"I do bied yiou htasten back, wh len~
you have fuilfdhled your noble toission ;
shallI ever be to the II oly Alother anid
lie blessed( sin ts, thti you ma~y re.
turtnt satfely to ou;r fatir countttry- a his!
t'terrie EngLladl no~ ltengier ! lit, ini
-the tmary land~ts you1 itotst t rave'rse,
gont wtill see f;.irer maint, whom will
;rladlly smuile ott the gallbot. tmiiistrl
to edevoeteed frientd of Einglandte's caip
" When the. sun shtini, weP see ne-t
the strs-event so will miy leove 1o
yeeu kceep birighit the tmemeery oft yeeur
gen-tle. loeveliness ;:ui hinder ttte fromta
fi',,wuting lthough~lt ori gilance, save itt
choureesyimrc.. linn other- maIds ;' u~l~( b her
se he be sthir homel. t t~ paac tint e
10 SOUTHERN RJ(
shall cherish your incory both foidly
sund proudly ; and that through all imly
.ireary pilgrimage, illy thoughts willI
turn to your love, as ily star of hope,
wishing no higher happier reward than
the right of claiming this little hand,
whens Englaid-again the incrrie
lil see her Lion en the throne."
"( Gd grant it !" softly muurmiiurcd
Bless you, dear Alice, for that
prayer. And now I will call Alariery
und go with you to the posturin.
" hI ! no, you inust not go indeed.
It were safer by fhe to let us speed
adone; for my father's huitamett are
lurking about, and should they see
you. I dread the cuisequences. Let
s say S irewell, event now I pray we
iay soon meet under happier auspi
as. If it will cheer you on your pil
griimage, know that von will carry eve
ry hope and every prayer of Alice of
Branleyie along with you ; and, the
most joyful sound she cani hear, will
Lbe thy voice, when thou returnest to
Aiid the lving, sorrowing maiden
bent her head in tears on lier lover's
.osoin, as they thus bade each other
ilieu in that old forest, i:iathi the
noon's inellow rays.
1'An i- . 1
h'lie 'r',':Iouair, o'er many a plain,
lath rmi:icd unwearied. but'in vain."
I. te sun was sinking behind the
m1ie-C ]ld lills of (iriianv, whlen ai
raevIler, we ary a:d f>ot sore, stuiod i
vithiii the sliadlow of a huir hattle
nenteil pile, over Ito ,rate of which i
I shield hung, as an invitat ion to nini.
he weary , to ent "r. The hi'art of tl I
ilgrim sank sadly within him as he
;aed around on the fair scene, now
orgeous with the liues of the dyin g
ay and the ruse tints thrown o e -
lie water only served to remnind him t
f home, liii dist:ui t, as Iivelv, antd oh ! "
ow longed fir. Ile "had Iwandered i
Al many a :niile, seeking for hin a
.,,m he . ind n.e. frm:' as . -.1
ow, toil-wrn. weary, and spiritless, -
Il 71tood--as is .:an he. t,. .,re ..ite v
hadow of the ol..d frowning castle.
u rlor hung near the gate, and1 resting i
iet ire he could su mmo......n su licient a
reath to wind it. he bde w a b lat
niohier-stillI ano'thecr. No answer
amne to his sunions-anid he thr-ows it
inks on a rewk, jus.t 1bathed ini the
on's pa rtitng b eantus.
"Oh ! flicha~rd, my runster, w~hat
ian'e I not enicoun itered fori theie ! and
ect. 'tis in vain. Thr-ough the fali
ia ins of mny niativye Pruovecec. in lhe
iostilec land otf Franc.-, have I sought
idinigs, but without !sucess ; an~d now
ny' heart, is sinking hopelessly within
ne ; mnd I feel as if I could lav downi
iere-aye ! evetn here, beside these
nb'ospitale walls, and die, werec it. not
'or the thought of' my1 thi r-haired Alice.
S-adly, mnost sadly, cones inito) rlv
min d the remn brance of ouir hiappll
lays, ere you, rn in'g w ~ere wveddeld
tthe st ately I ereunga iai, or I had
knelt ini bioniinge at, lie fe-et o:f toy
~en te lad yelove-, AlIice of Brant evnle.
Ahli! joyous indeed , were thIoset da vs!
Andit, whlen tiredi with owtu li tior milv
splorts, wve seizedl the huartp, atndi maI e
thle wvalls echo agini wiith sein-s of
battle andi~ of' kniighity deedst-il. Eh~ven
now, exhiautstedl anui despairm iv, one elt
aur- oldjfinntiliar- altrs is strayinig iroughi
my h-rain, as if it would fhin have
Anid tlle titillstrel unStrung froiti iS
back t ho small dus! -covered harp, o'er
whIichi his fingers wandi~ereLd ini meclody,.
w ihl, yet beaut ifil, till at la-t break
ing forth it, fulhler- maii mtore insp~irintg
notes, lhe jtomied to thle at-eninpianltiinett
the music of his miel low voice:
'' Thliinejhour is comte, and thle slIa ke is set,
Thle Soldanr cried to thec capt ive Kiiighit
And the son sot the I rophet, ini th. o ugs, are
To ga/e on the feartiful siiht
But,'>e our faith. byv your h ps cotnfessed
'PTh faith of Muereas slhrine,
Caist down the red cross that intarks thy vest
And life shall yet he thtine "
Thle min strel patisedi in his siong,
anld swvept the strings in ia rtuelodiouis
syntip-hiony, foir it wvas the phatee where
his kingly- co~ini[: ont uisiually3 chtimte
withI the refrain.
Iliark ! whtat soiil- comei non toi
his ecar .I-N it, the sighilig iof the eve
ming's breeze, that , pityinug his I 'tili
tne-s, thuts biroinmg overt tI-e mem'tory
of thle lieart-, has shuaped its symp l athItv
into the follow inig thint ly- eciho.ed wiird's
that :ne now11 b~ore onl the qutiet siltni
I Ithave seenu thei liow of tmy hoisom's bilood
Atnd gauzied witht undthat'ed eye ;
I hauve itortne th ba ra'hlt cros s thuro' fire ainl
I bhive stood where thus:util:; by uR-um',
Iihre tfaletn for the faith divine,
" I1ily Abtt1 !" gaisped' lilonidelI,
tntw plel :tui t reitmb ling with Ithle re
iawal of htonei. " ( dii it lbe Isl it
lily King that I have at last discover
ed ?" And gasping with new ardor,
and chanting forth with renewed
strength the third stanza, inl order
igain to hear the refrain, and thus
give certainty to his awakened hole.
Art thou the sun of a noble tinle,
In a land that is fair and blest !
Ail dust not thy spirit, proud captive pine
Again on its shores to rest
'hine own is the choice to hail once inure
The soil of Ily fathers birth,
)r to sleep, when thy lingering pang are
Forgotten, in fireigni earth.'
Ile pansd. Again is the strain
aught tip ! This time. so loudly and
Iihtinctly to his expectant car, that he
anot think it, the sighing of the breeze
>r his own iiuagination :
There are hearts that still, thro' all the
Unchanging, have loved inc well
['here are eyes, whose tears were streat
hlien I haide my home farewell
,ut better they wept o'er the warrior's bier,
Than the A postate's living strain;
Ihiere's a 1 hand, where those who loved
Shall ileet, to love again."
"'Tis he. Thank (God ! My prince
-mly king '--A nil coilh A lice have
cell hiii in thankfinlhtcss plrostrate himi
elIf; she w(oiuld have still bet ter loved
he nohle heart in whomn she trusted.
sow, with his whilomne weary eyes
aliait with joy, he torn a scrap of
'arclliunint from his scroll upon whicb
ie trembi ling ly traced woirs of hope
il cheer, then attaching it to the ari
W, lprvidled as a mn ueeunger, hie shti
I whirling through the air, now so still,
c-to the casetjent., fromi' whence he
card the Song. and where he hail jist
een the searf wainilig.
Again caie that sigh fo rth, as he
tood gazing, with his licart on his lips.
O sonner did his eye catch the first
utter of the silk, than lie turned to
-ards the north, and sped on with rc
ewed st renigt h, and a heart itervedi to
ny entlhr:ane for England.
On the scrip he hadl pct:iied
-ave thy sea rf, and I will hack to Eng
itnd at onco, to ransom thee with
ro:,l ijicces, or stir up thy mourning
iid faithfu id eople to redieem their
Imed moarich wvith the .'wordl.
"In ha~ste, thy itlid servant.
i' i H LOD-..
T1 I feta' h:ard ii: erucblev crownid,
tedi a thii.sni harrs. wvith jr shial rong,
Vhenc mierrie l-'ghnu h,:uil her kiing.
Once niore in the dini old woods
'ere the lovers met : hut this time
is not to witncss how those fond
earts speak ; but, to see how~ old Siri
~ohert. of lIranteyne, greets his king~
ndl ioneh loved sovel-eign, Richard
'lantagenet, suroinnted the Lion-~heart.
Ie atpprioaches the old ILaronial man
ionl, withi a echosenl retimi le of b rave
cearts, and0 true, that have scarce!ly left
lis side since his arrival from his prison
wiep, ih r in the forests of Germn:my.
Jii his right iid es an old noble, foIl of
'ears and! cf h)oos: nil ii h lihis
us taitteicrd, traveh-t iined doubbi t anid
vorn ont sandalh', but easedl bravely ini
iiirple malt gold-with his laces, his
ewtels. his pihinnes, mial piertinuies--for
ICecoiiii tImts iiiely deckedl out to
1oo the his biridle, the fhi r Aljice. Niir
-mies~ hie emp~jty himiie i ti) do hisi woio
ngi le-or i l lii iteIliz~id e~ie~ re irg
ich. andl hi' now rile:; 'ide lie side to
pleed him ii in hi, slit.
And the: e, in covered gatewar, lhv
lhe side of her fathlir, stoouls the geni
Ie lady of his hive, wvith Saiiles iandl
Iinsbies flittinig o'er lier sweet face, as
he stands to greet her s ivereign.
Th le gntiek( eye oft love has noted
lIlondel as lie thus rides -and her little
biesi t is heating apturously at the
thought, of this meeting. Though in
Loutrtesy and fe'alty her kuee is bowe]
to the /.'ng, yut hier wvoraan's heart is
n.ini himnblleness to welcomle her
mihisrl L ack to En gl1ad, and~( her
love. Yes :thoughl Ilia rd he wiellI be
loved, mini claimii thef*/rs/ Words firom
thetoe coral lip s, yvet her 1la:,ht s her
si'es of welci'oe aire the lineed of
her heart's sovigniil anid lover.
" 'iy ownu A l ice "--lie hia- whlispe,.
ed, in: tones the echo of alt 'ihitoliharp ,
so siitl, s. sweet--" I )ost, thiout, in
deced, joy to see meii back in vonr* lair
hind ) And~i mna I now elauiiin thy lit
tle hand:' as miy briighitest rewardl
" Aluit wulcioe mi t thonit, the tirusty
bit, thion wi-Il knt'west, that thlonIh I
Live I lice en ti rely, 3 et I uimu, it h}t
youI take that whiichi; in my fth1er's to
biestow. but., see ! Tihe king is now
mnovinig on, maiil we nmlst folliow."'
Andi into the wide old hill idid they
aill go, with its rornfrus piiled high
andl cheeiniugly, and where the ill
kint seated h1~intelf in ih,. chah- or stt
(, NEWS, LITERAI
" Col--ant out 1a'ti
VILLE, S. C., APRIl
trangred by the hnspitable old knight.
" My oll friends," said the king, ad
dressing Sir Robert, who stood in at
teidanice, '' It gives me much joy to be
under thy goodly roofonce again-our
lady and tihe good illondel be thanked
-and if thou woulst. still add to the
measure of iiiv colt-nt-, grant ie one
reqtuest. See, I do nIot coiinuntd as a
king, hut earnestly entreat is thy
".li ! mv liege, speak not 6Ihes !"
IdepreenUted the kniiht, as he Cssaetd to
bend his knee, but. was preveited by
I ichard. " Thou knowest full well
that I and all that I have belongeth to
thee, to do as thuu wilt, now and at
"Sayest thou this in good sooth E
replied the king. "Then be not an
gered. that I dispose of one parcel ac
cording to imiy w'shes. I o there
Somlie olie sllnnijor the Lad Nv A lice.-.
A1n(1 come hither also, ly good llin
dcl, for I h:ve n . 'cigh t lit I wmn,l
fain pay, even tiugh it b; by poach
ilg, on allothers pr. frty.
Ilere the rutlind of silk, and the
slight, ulick ste J timid love, and
the Lady Alice is( fending before the
king, with her Iglt curls floating
around, veiling hid fair, blushing face,
and by her side lheels the dark-hued,
but haitls'mne inigstrel of' Provence,
whose noble fird , in its pride and
trength, seems lie the oak to the ten
(i:l, iwhen compared with the fragile,
shrinking maiden) The king, rising,
joins their hands, 'd speaks the word
of betrothal ero t amazed old fither
has the power to ; terrupt them.
And then how!could ha remain in
anger with that gentle girl, whose dove
like, Pleading ey's, are swimlnring in
tears of hope and nahppiess, as she
loo ks up to him ie looks at ILlon.
'Idl ; he allows : to pass in review
through his mind is constancy to his
idolized Alice ; his quitting her volun
tarily, to fulfil with zeal his noble pil
grimiage, despairing, yet still clinging
with the tenacity of devotion, to some
shadow of hc ea h must
-~ , .yrs. >i kty hoe: eke ~.yts'
reward. And shail he', Robert of
lHranteyne,-nlways forciiost in fealty
and hoimage-slhall he he inwilling to
give is part, in re'compence to his
lIe again lo.ok~s upon the pair, and
his heart sof ten still more, as heo catch
es thn look 'of tender'est. devotion,
which Illondlo :n-)ws up3Ion the vo~utn
irl. Aeting. fomii these motV', bl
r 'plae.''. the tiny hand. of his chili in
thatit of :he niob'e miust:e-l, saving :
"T'al:e', the the re.vantI (3 thy do
v'tion tg thy k..g.aiid of thyv constani
cy to thy lady love. Aly prejudice
must vanish biefore theo weight of my~
gratitude. Alay the prayer of heir
thelir he anlswered, that hieneeforthI
ye mayi3 lbe a-i happy a.s youri parie love
anid loyalty deserve."
And the old ball echoed again and
algaini with a glad shout, iirestrained
elven hy the king'ly' presence ; andI
run asi howl wsdandta
and hi Iav hove, fair A lice of li-an.
1(3'"" 3!1' ! rt' ' :3 F.' vi, : .t pj.n (fl-.Atr.
'Tlue ittle Iysteriaes o~f
1m exci t. thir brainus by mneaiis
if' t'3ba3'Co. I avairii smio'kes withouit
e iu Isil I a "t:Un engine it' le fires
un ini the mingaii, andi onlyV godes o.t
Eninie Sua', whlen lhe occupited the
1'th-; retrea'. in the st reet i'epiiniere,
wohieo-c hi- hmabier hermeotically,
anud write in <hn-knae.-w. Iiut his writ
in;.s wenre' .3 t !si iadiant. wvithi light
the lhaliani jpoe.t who bieggedI his (at to
lend him the green fire ofI i eves, by~
which t3 witC'.
V. ietor: I fog. when lie d welt ini Par
i-, miade nearly~ all hisvre hl
promenai;3Iii thie canal, near the
l.Lstile. A t the present it. is upon thle
bemachi of' thle I-sle of J ersey, that lhe
labors ami id the w iid scams0 of the
Jaini, lar- iim shutting- himrself' up,
ciIoposs bii the iis't of1 conv'3er,-ationl,
ain- w~ hile talingi: oft someithtinig else,
lIa a lived duinig the day hike
lie re t of the wo rld--he looked. ie
li-enedo, he. tailked with his friends,
but said nothing resenmblinig his writ
iigs; he wh.asi gay ..id full of laiighiter.
I fe wenit to bed at si-ose at midu
I ighit a' d dian k a eu p of coffeie. T[hen
he was. einde u ith a doubl1 e cap aci t v
-then lie becam'e huiiinons--he knewy
evetin lg-thien lie revealed all lhe
hiad obser ive, I- lien lie ex 3einded w hat
lhe hi:il gathieredI diirinig the daty-tein
lie sk etched tho3 se aidirale pIiet.inrets
tiin... llis 63 .jl e a di cami---iis
niight-life~ a realit.
As for- AIt'xainder' )1 ihuas, I b elieve
lie ha en io recoin ise to an y secret mia
iwul rei . lie ni' eie stoppedI t--he wrote
and tallw-d with clhpid animiiationi.
WVhen le set t.o worik, lie took il'fhis
coalt Olil his 'en!!awse.o-titen a n
stripping to fight-and then he never
paused. I remenmber going to see
hIn one day at Ilavre, at the I[otel
F rascati. I ie went down with me in
the garden ; I left hint a moment to
speak to an acquaintance. When I
came back, Dumas had returned to
his desk, resumed his unfinished line,
and completed some dozen besides.
Nothing ever disturbs him.
I do not know how LIamuartine corn.
poses ; I suppose hit dictates. In 18-48
when he had purchased by so great an
outlay of devotion, fhtigue and danger,
the imgratitude of France, 1 went often
to see him in the morning a little be.
fore day. I always fouund hint in the
bath, and more than once, lie said such
beautiful things, so grand, so admirably
exprossed, that I took pen and paper
and wrote them down as he spoke and
left them on the table. France could
not, I thought, aflord to loose such
brilliant creations, and I fancied to
I learn from one w"Ilo was mltlilfn -
with Chatcaubriand, that he had a very
singular method for creating that ex
citenent of the brain, which most
writers seek through the aid of tobac
co ; he would promenade bare footed
on the cold marble floor, and thus the
saue sort of irritation of the mucous
membranes which proceeds cold in the
head was produced.
'Thern arc some who take other
people's books and diligently copy
IM!ANKLIN AS A B00BSEL'ALEt.
The following story, of Franklin's
mode of treating the animal, called in
those day's 'lounger,' is worth putting
into practice occasionally, even in this
age and generation :
One fine morning, when Franklin
was busy preparing his newspaper for
the press, a lounger stepped into the
store, and spent an hour or two look
ing over the books, .&c, and finally
taking one in his hand,-a.ked the shop.
boy the price.
'One dollar," was the answer.
Se~,' said the lounger, 'can't
you take s 1va ma a,,,
'No, indeed one dollar is the price.'
Another hour had nearly passed,
when the lounger asked, 'Is Mr. Frank
liin at home?'
'Yes, he is in the printing oflice.'
'I want to see him said the lounger.
'rTe shop-bo im mediately' informed
Mr. Franklin that a genitlenmn wvas
in the store wanting to see him
Franklin was sooh behind the counter,
when the lounger, wvith book in hand,
addressed him thus:
'Mr-. Franklin, what is the lowest
you can take for this book.
'One dollar and a quarter,' was the
'One dollar and a quarter? Why
your youing man asked only a dollar.'
'True said Franklin, 'and I could
have better aflurrded to have taken a
dollar then than to have been taken
out (of the oflice.'
.iThe lounger seemed surprised, and
wio-hing to end the parley of his o~vn
taakin saI, 'CoXme, Mr. .Frankl in,
tell m what is the lowest you can
take fhr it.
'One dollar and a half.'
'( )me dollar aid a hvalfi I h y, yon
'ttltredl it you self for a dollar anid a
'Yes,' sailI FranklIin, 'and I had bet
ter have ta&ken that price then, than r
dol hir anid a half iiow.
Them hmnger paid down the price,
and went about. his busiiness--if lie had
any--aid Frank lini returned into the
A lk.wnh- I l5rutrnn:r \1LY.'.P-he
I Iuntsville (Texas) Items says : " A
mian namecd John M. Dowling camne
hero a fev;- weeks ago to work as a
tailor, withl 11. M. Clopton, of our
town. lie is a native of Brooklyn,
N. Y., and went to Murfreesboro',
T1enn.. some years ago, where lie mar
ried a young lady of wealthy connax
i')ns, named Miss Mar-y Smith. The
lady acqluiredl sonie property froem her
relations, in the way of negroes, aiid as
the two conucluded to conie to Texas,
the slaves were sold, an D)owling ire.
tainied the money. T'hey had (one
child, since dead, and the wife is now
encientec. A wveek ago, D~owling gath-.
ered all the'money anid other valuables
of his wife, and sloped, leaving her
perfectly destitute, lie went to New
Orleanis, and is thought will go back
to New~ York. lIe is about five feet
nine inc(hes high, sallow couiplexion,
aus the ptoinit of his probose-is looks
towards the heavens, as ifit scor-ned
conntectioni with his mouth. Hfow the
lady ever caime to bnar-ry him, is a
miyster-y to us, for shte is a very hand
somte woman. 1hit, there is no account
ing for I arte. What ef fec lie had lef. het
were sol a few days ago, avid a fund
w~as rauised by Messrs. liinford and
loptnu enough to send her back to
her friends. She left in the stage or
We-dniesday, a broken-hearited, deser.
ted, p'hnielred woman.-EdgeIif id
RE, SCIENCE A1\
TMe Be3autiful 'Iaiac.
" ''hfre tiht on my osom prays,
is lone as sone volcanic i,.lo,
No torch is kindled! at its blaze
A funeral pile'."
In the morning train from Peters
burg, there was a lady closely veiled,
in the same car with ourselves. She
was dressed in the purest white, wort
gold bracelete, and evidently belong.
ed to the highest classes of society.
11er figure was delicate, though well
developed, and exquisitely symetrical;
and when she occasionally drew aside
her richly embroidered veil the glimpse
of the features which the beholder ob.
tamed, satisfied him of her extreme
loveliness. Beside her sat a gentleman
in deep iourning, who watched over
her with unusual solicitude, and several
times when she attempted to rise, he
excited the curiosity of the passengers
by detaining her in her seat.
Outside the cars all was corfusion;
passengersiwpkinU to baggage, porters
uisua1 hurry and bustle aitteotlhg
the departure of a railroad train. One
shrill warning whistle from the engine,
and we moved >lowly away.
At the first motion of the car, the
lady in white started to her feet With
one heart-piercing- scream, and her
bonnet falling off disclosed the most
lovely features we ever contemplated.
Her raven tresses fell over her shoul
der, and clasping her hands in prayer,
she turned her dark eyes to heaven !
What agony was in that look ! What
beauty. too, what heavenly beauty, had
not so much of misery been stamped
upon- it. Alas ! one look told a mel.
"- he wasi chang'l
As by the sickness of a haul ; her mind'
glad wandlered fron, its dwelling, and here'ec
'T'hey had not their own lustre, buat the look
Which is not of earth; she was become
The queen of a faniant*;. ; he c::hs
Were combinations of disjointed tihings,
And forms, impalpable and unperceived
Of others Eight, familiar were to hers."
Her brother, the gentleman in black
was unremitting in his efiorts to sooth<
her spirit, Hie led her back to hei
seat ; but her hair was still unbount
and her beauty unveiled. The cars
rattled on. and the passengers iii group;
resumed their conversation. Sudden.
ly a wild melody arose ; it was the
beautiful maniac's voice,-'rich, full, an<
inimitable. Her hands were crosse<
oni her heaving bosom, and she wave<
her body as she sang with touchini
"She is far from the land where her youn1
And~lovers around her are sighing,
But coldly she turns from their gaze an
For her heart in his grave is iying !
"She sings the wild son.'g of her own nativ
Every note-which hre 1oted awakinn.-.
Ah ! little they think, who delight~ in he
How the heart of the minstrel is brea-king.'
Heri brother w~as unmanned, and h
wept as only man can wveep. The ai
changed, and lie continued
"lllas sorrowv thy young heart shaded,
As clouds o'er the morning fleet!
Too fast have thioso young days faded,
'That even in sorrow wi.ere sweet!
If thus the unkind world wither
Each feelinig ihiat once was dear:
Come, child of' misforttune ! come hhhe
I'll weep wi.ith thece, tear for tear."
She then sang a fr'agmecnt of elh
"Jestus, hover of my soul,
Let inc to thy~ hosuim liy.'"
Another attempt was madie tto ris
upl was prevenited, anud she threw hei
self' on her knees beside- her brothe
and gav'e him such a m~our'nfutl, entrea
ing look, with the plainitive '"Save mu
myi brother ! save your sister !" thr
acaircely a passenger could refr'ain froti
weepimg. We say searcely, for ther
was one man (w~as he a mani?) wvh
called oni the conductor to "put h<
out the cars." Hie received the ope
scorni of the company. His insenus
bility to such a scene of distress a
most defies belief'; and yet this is,i
every' particular, an "'er true tale
Should lie ever' read these lines, ma
his marble heart be softened by th
recollections of his brutabty!
Again, the poor benighted beaut
i'aised her bewitching voice to 0on8 (
the most solemn, sacred airs:
" Oh w~here shall rest be found,
Rest for tihe weary soul.".
And continued her melancholy char
until we reached the steamer Moui:
Vernon, (on board of which wve di
seconded the miagniificen t ,Tames Riv~e
the unhappy brother and sister ocet
pying the "ladies cabin." Ilis wt
a sorriow too profound for ordinar
consolation ; and no one dare intrumd
so far up)on his grief' as to satisfy hi
cu riosi ty.
We were stndinlg on the prome1
aide deck, ami~nring the beautifl seen
ry of' the river', wh'ien at one of tl
landings, the samail boat p.ulled awn
fromt the shiore with the tinhappy pai
en routec for the asylum ait --. Si
was standing erect in the stern of ti
beat, heir white dress and raven tres
es fluttering in the hrne...-rko bri
TERMS-$2 IN ADVANCE.
returned, and the steamer moved on
for Norfolk. They were gone! tiat'
brother with- his broken heart,. that
sister with her melancholy union of
beauty and madness.-Courier.
K-.uasth lgain in the
It seems that this is not a free self
governing people.: It seems that the
executive and legi'shitivo officers rhos.
en by the people of this country flave
to answer for their official acts at the
bar of Europe, and that M. Kossuth'
is the high presiding functionary at
that bar. The most august legislative
tribunal in the world, the United States
Senate, in the exercise of undisputed'
powers-powers not questioned in this
country-is taken to task by that
notorious individual for its refusal to
ratify the nomination of Mr. Sanders
as consul to London. He has ad
dressed a long letter to a gentleman of
this country, to onerate pno an ,
We yield to no onte td u e rt
afTectionate kindness to Mr. Sanders;
No one could more rejoice at his pros
perity and happiness than ourselves ;.
none could more regret the occurrence
ofanything tending to injure or to-nor
lt our relations to Mr. Sanders
cannot in anywise affect our estimate
of the officious interference of auf
European power, or any European
prime, leader, or demagogue with the
aflairs of this government.
ley what right does Kossuth seek to
influence the counsels and the actions of
this government? lie is not a native
of this country--he is not a natural
ized citizen. His home is in Europe.
His interests and ambitions are all
there. When a fugitive anda wonder
er, he was welcomed to our shores
like a friend, and wasfited like a princq.
His progress through this country was
a succession of triumphs. Cities
opened their gates to him with glad
ness, and their populations flocked to
greet him. Our hearts poured out to
I him and his attendants the sincerest
symputhy, and Our treasres were be
stowed with lavish prodigality. His
only feeling towards us should be orne
But how does he requite our kind
ness? He returns to Europe and
Iwrites letters designed and calculated
to dissatisfy our adopted citizens wiih
the actions of our governi~ent. lie
seeks to transfer to our peaceful shores
the strifes, the wars and convulsions of
Europe. A wanderer frotn his own
country, without cr-own, sceptre, office
cr power, he erects himself into a mon
arch over the foreign : Sputationt of the
United States, an~d haughtily issues
his orders and his edicts to them-.
Does he forget that his coOntrymen
here are free? Does h~e forget that
,thley have solerm'nly renodhod their
allegiance to allf foreign kings, princes,
r potentates and powers, and taken the
oath of allegiance to this f're ecountry-?
lIe tireats them as if thley- vrere a for
eign host, encamped amongst us to
carry out European vi'ews and pro
Je-cts. lie seeks to influeneo, in favor
of his plans abroad, the votes they have
acqjui-ed in riryht of their naturaliza
,tion. .lie sceeks to prej-udice thom
against the United States Senate,
because that body has not thought fit
to act as lie would hiave thenm act.
W: believe that M. Kossuth, when
amnongst us, did more b i aiy
e his ostentation aiid his officious in
-- solece- to injure the cause of European
-, r-epubllicanl progress in this country,
-than all the despots of Europe could
, do. lie alighted amongst us as a god;
t lie departed from us a humbug. Hie
a went up like a sky-rocket; he caime
e down like a stick.
D Washkington Sentinel.
r -~ ~--e -
STIULANTS OF GREAT MENi.
i t, is interestiiig to notice the differ
. ent arfticles which have been taken by
a eminent men, as stimulants of mental
'faculties. It is interesting as showing
how di'antetrica-lly opposite means may
,procu-re the same effect in various sys
tems ; and it, is interesting as showing
how much the mind sympathizes with
fthe biody. Haller drank plentifully of
water when ho wished foir great activi.
ty of the br-ain ; Fox, for the same pur
pose used brandy. The stimulants of
Newton and Hobbts were the fumes
tof tobacco ; those of P~ope and Fonte
neiillo, strong coflee. Dr. Johnson at
one period of his life, was a great
wino drinker ; but in the latter part of
-it, found strong tea a good substitute.
s Don Juan is said to have been written
Y umder the influence of gin and water,
e and it is reported that a certain legal
a lord of gr-eat learning and talerit plies
himself hard with port when he wishes
1- to shine. Pitt was a great drinker of
Swino; Shoridan, also, was fond of hia '
e bottle. Dr. Paris tells us, that. when
y Mr. Dunng wished to miake an eeara
r, ordinary dispa of eloquegce, ho -al
.e ways put a lister plaster on his cheau
ea few homy beCfore he was& to~ ajak in
a- order tiat it mnight irritatk th& brain
t by sytapathy during his snelsc .