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THE DELAWARE REGISTER
OR, FARMERS», MANUFACTURERS* Ac MECHANICS' ADVOCATE. g» Our Public Journals an they ought to he—"The vehicles of Intelligence, not the common sewers of $camlai '* WILMINGTON, Del., SATURDAY, OCTOBER 24, 1829. No. 52. Voi,. b The Delaware Register is published every Saturday morning, by Albert Wilson , No. 105, Matke.t Street, at Two Dollars per annum, if paid in advance; otherwise, Two Dollars and Fifty Cents. Handbills, Cards, Wanks, Pamphlets, and Job Printing in general, executed with neatness and despatch, aud at mode rate prices, at the Office of the Register. Od* Advertisements inserted on reasonable terms. Prom Blackwood's Magazine for August. FIRST AND EAST LOVE. (Concluded] Edward Trehearn, the * young squire,' as he was usually de nominated, was in his twentieth year, had been educated at Eton and Oxford, and bade fair to reflect honor upon both those eminent scats of learning. At Eton he had risen to the distinguished rank of 4 Captain,' and received his forced trib ute of* salt' at the Montem; while at Oxford lie hod contend ed successfully for some of the highest academical prizes. To what specific purpose his natural endowments and scholastic attainments wore to he appfied—what his future course wus to be—were, as yet, let! to the future. There had been some talk about his standing for the representation of the county at the next general election, and promises of support had been spontaneously tendered which would almost justify tho experiment; but bis father was too wisfi. and prudcnU a man to impoverish the family estate by squandering eight ten thousand pounds, even for the cerlumty, still less for the I chance, ol i*.s sou's return at a contested election. Otherwise, not insensible to the honor of again seeing a Trehearn hich had not been the case for nearlv fifty ^ years, when the grandfather of Edward, Sir Theophitus Tre hearn, ruptured a blood vessel by tho vehemence with which he vociteruU-d 'No!' upon the question being put from the chuir, for the second reading of the famous East India hill. In the close intimacy which, os has been mentioned, sub sisted between the families at Trehearn Lodge and Fifzrov Cottage, (as the elegant residence of Mrs Fitzroy was mod estly designated,) Edward, of course, became a frequent. vis itor at the latter; while, somehow or other, it alwavs happen ed that he was at home whenever the Filzroys were known bo coining to the Lodge. It was soon settled, therefore, by those who had made the match between Sir Frederick and he ill Parliament, ro ould ceru iffy take place between Ed vard, and either Agnes or Jane. But ii would have perplex ei* the most expert interpreter of amorous hiero-dphics to de cide whether Edwaid cared for either Jane or Agnes, so im partially were his attentions bestowed upon both. He was, indeed, the troquent companion of iheir walks ai d rides in Kimtncr; would lead to them in the long dreary evenings of winter; and sometimes take his part in singing a duet, coinpanyiiig thorn with liisffuie, (which he played with an ex pression and brilliancy of execution, worthy almost of Drou et or Nicholson,) while they exerted their own skill and sci ence alternately upon the harp and piauo-forto. Occasionally, too, he might be detected in a tete-a-tete , at one time with Jane, at another with Agnes, either in the drawing room or upon the lawn, or sauntering through the grove of quivering poplars, whose trembling leaves chequered their path with dancing moonbeams. It happened, howeier, that these lat ter walks were more frequent with Agnes than with Jane, not because they were sought or contrived, but simply bccau e Agues was inure prone to seek such quiet rambles than he» Edw ard with all his book-knowledge, wa M/s Fitzioy, that one and ac our cret vel ne .'•■er mercurial cousin, but a tyro m self-knowledge. He would hale discovered else, and soon enough to save a pang, which he was every way too manly and too honorable to appropriate as a triumph, that he was heedlessly strewing with roses the beginning of a path whose end was the grave. Time glided on, and month after month saw Edward Tie hearn a more and more frequent visitor at Fitzroy cottage, when one morning, about two yearn subsequently to the peri od at which this narrative commences, Sir Frederick cam alone, and with an air of mysterious importance, request©* the honor of a private interview with Mid Fitzroy. They were all BCstoil in the breakfast parlor when Sir Frederick arrived, at in and Mrs Fitzroy immediately retired with him to another apart ment. sels lace, instead of continuing her work, could do nothing but look again and again at that portion of it which was al ready finished, as if she were suddenly struck with the extreme richness and elegance of the pattern. Agnes was reading; but the hand which held the book dropped upon her knee, and while a faint flush came across her cheek, her eyes were fixed upon the countenance of Jane, who, for once in her life, looked serious and thoughtful. Was it not strange, that nei ther spoke to the other, when it would seem to be so natural they should interchange thoughts upon the object of Sir Fred erick's visit ? But they were silent. And the only interrup tion of their silence was now and then a tremulous sigh which breathed through the lips of Agnes. In about half an hour, Mrs Fitzroy returned to the room; for Sir Frederick had taken his departure. She approached Jane, took her hand affectionately, and as she tenderly lean ed forward to ki3s her forehead, exclaimed, * I havo long ex pected such an interview with Sir Frederick Trehearn.' Jane looked up. There was a radiant smile upon her features which caught the eye of Agnes. She read edits meaning, and smil ed too; hut the light of her smile, as it spread itself over her pale cheeks, was like a wintry sqnbcam upon a bod of snow. What followed will be as easily anticipated, I doubt not, by the reader, as it was by both Jane and Agnes. Mrs Fitzroy, Jane, who was embroidering a beautiful veil of Brus es ed or to ing I having sented herself, informed her daughters (for such she alvva y s * f yl«d Jane,) that Sir Frederick had waited upon her to ,,,ake certain customary inquiries, in consequence of having ^ Cûrne( ^ kom his that he was desirous of being permitted ledged suitor of henceforth to consider himself the ack Jane; a desire which he had no wish to oppose, provided he was satisfied with respect to her family and fortune, taking it for granted that Edwaid had already ascertained the inclina tions of the young lady herself. *And you may be sure, my dear child,' added Mrs Fitzroy, */ hud nothing to say which was likely to interpose an obstacle, except, indeed, upon the score of your fortune, which, though hardly sufficient, perhaps, ro match with the large expectations of the heir of the Tre hearn estates, is enough, coupled with he rich dowry of yourself, to make you the worthy sharer of a dukedom. Sir Frederick, I happy to say, estimates the money vulue of what you possess, in the same liberal spirit. So now my child, | you have only to consult your own heart well, before you fi- j nally take a step, in which, according consulted or not, must be ever the chances of its ufier felici the heart is well ty.' The affectionate and parental lone with which Mrs Fitzroy uttered these words, was answered by the tears of Jane, as they fell fiist upon the veil she still held in her hands; but Ag nes, advancing towards her, and tenderly throwing her arms round her neck, exclaimed, as she gently kissed her, 4 Happy, happy Jane!' in accents that too well suited with her oven tears, which now mingled with those of her cousin. In a few moments the struggle was over; and then, what a touching contrast there was between the beaming countenance of Jane, suffused, each instant, by the mantling tinge of conscious joy, which maiden busnfulness, at times, deepened to the blush of virgin modesty—true love's silent rapture!—and the feverish crimson that burned upon the cheek of Agnes, now quenched and now revived, as hope's expiring torch shot forth its dying flashes in her stricken heart—true love's silent agony! She, interview as Sir like her mother, had long expected such Frederick Trehearn had that morning sought; but her altered liiticipation of its object was scarcely a month old. Alas! our own desires are swift and treacherous pioneers of our se cret hopes. While they seem to remove all difficulties, to le vel all obstructions, and to open before us a straight, smooth path, for the attainment of what we covet, they only dig pit falls, and prepare ambushes, to betray or surprise our steps in ne pursuit. Agnes, who had followed in their track, found ..erself engulfed m one of their snares. She awaked as from a dream. But it availed her nothing that her reason told .'•■er it was a dream, that she knew she had built up a fairy palace, aud that the scene of thrilling enchantment had dis-i I liui solved away. The scene, indeed, might vanish; but where it had once been, remained a ruin! She had realized her own prophetic fears. In the solitude of her heart, love, which bad roared itself unbidden, now drooped to unseen decay, in the withering soil of its birth; and she was ready to exclaim, in the beautiful language of ono of her favorite authors,— " Du Heilige, rufe dein Kind zuruck! Ich habe genossen das irdische Gluck, * Ich habe gelebt und geliebet!"* They know little of this passion, who deem it the offspring of sighs and protestations, of oaths and tears, of prayers and entreaties, and all the small artillery of courtship. These but the husbandry which calls forth the common produce of common soils; the needful aliment of that great principle of nature, which alike peoples our cities and our plains, our riv ers, and the air we breathe. In many a heart, where it haf* never been awakened^ lies the subtle essence, which, when touched by a kindred essence, starts at once into giant Iifc.-= And how manifold are the channels through which that kin dred essence works itself a passage to the sleeping mischief I A word, a look, a tone of the voice, one pressure of the hand —though a hundred and a hundred havo preceded it—a sim ple * Good night,* or a parting * God bless you!'from lips that have pronounced the former fq^months, shall, in a predestin ed moment, be, like the spark that falls upon the nitrous heap, followed by instant combustion.. And then, what a revolution is effected! The eye sees not—the ear hears not—the mind perceives not, as they have been wont. A new being is cre ated— the past is obliterated; nothing seems to remain of what was; and the very identity of the object, by whom this deli rium of all the faculties lias been produced is destroyed# We t ive, in vain, to recall the mere man or woman we hav* know'll, in the lover or the mistress we now adore. Spell-bound in the fascination, enthralled in the idolatry of suddenly awak ened pa i s ous, we discover wisdom, w ? it, oeauty, eloquence, grace, charms, benignity, and loveliness where hitherto we beheld them not, or at the most, had only dim and visionary glimpses of their possible existence. Picture to yourself the block of rough and shapeless marble, before the magic touch es of a Canova, a Chantry, or a Fluxman, have chipped and chiselled away the superfluous rubbish that conceals he liv ing Venus, or the speaking statesman, and you have the bes comparison lean imagine of the transformai «ou which tlm idol of th* human heait undergoes, at the moment when the heart creates its idol. Poor Agnes had found her destined moment. She knew not why, but of late, the presence of Edward Trehearn seem ed to tranquihzc feelings, which disturbed and harassed her when he was absent. And then, too, every thing he said, ev ery thing he did, every thing he thought, had become, a3 it were, unquestioned oracles with her. He could not be wrong; and she was surprised how* any body could think or act other wise than as he thought and acted. If he admired a flower, or dwelt rapturously upon tho beauties of a landscape, that flower immediately possessed romo hitherto undiscovered fra grance or unnoticed elegance in the eyes of Agnes, and that landscape siiaight had charms which she had never seen be fore. If he condemned another's conduct, Agnes at once thought the object of his censure vile; and if he spoke with enthusiasm of any passage in the poot he was reading, Agnea read it so often afterwards, that she could soon repeat every line. When he was expected at the cottage, neither her books, nor her needle, could fix her attention; her thoughts still run before tho hour; and many a treasured feeling vas hushed in to repose till the moment when it could come forth in his pre sence. Sometimes, indeed, she paused to ask herself the mean ing of ail this. To question her heart, why it turned so in stinctively towards him, for the gratification of all its most cherished emotions ? It was a fruitless scrutiny; a baffled in quisition; for all she gained by it was to know the fact, but are * Tliis is pari of an exquisitely simple melody, which Thekla - *?.j rfrej Piccolomini has lorn himself from lierai hid. (St e Scftille.'s • WulUms ■ in ») I despair of infusing the plaintiveeloquenceof the original into u twins '.ntkvqt; liui me mete English reader, may gather its import in the following attempt ; "Thou Holy One, take thy child again! I have tasted of earthly b'Uw : I have lived, aud 1 have loved!*'