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The New Hampshire gazette and Republican union. [volume] (Portsmouth, N.H.) 1847-1852, March 16, 1852, Image 1

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v ... .' 18 PUBLISHED WEEELY, AT -
.+ "L ..+ PORTSMOUTH, N. H.
. . —Bl 60 per annum, 1 ADVANCE—32 st the close
%3 Sieitisiments mm» liberal rates.
A o 8 WoRK executed neatness and despatch at this
TR R o id
£ «%‘;' 'u Mfl";l’om 1
. CavestinGod.
TN oR, £ TR
. “Whattime Tam afraid T will trust in Thee.” '
If night upon the wave; - 1
Descend with tempests that the deep awake ;
And angry billows every timber shake
In the proud ship, and breakers bellow near ;
Though my heart shudder with a sudden fear,
O Father !=Thou can’st save—
I’ll trast in Thee.
_ If fierce disease should steal
Along my veins, which art could not control ;
And almost broken seem the “golden bowl;”
: Though the dim angel hover very near,
- Aund m%hnn fainteth with a solemn fear ;
* O Father ! Thou can’st heal—
: I’ll trust iu Thee.
‘ If some my heart holds dear,
Wauder in distantlands, *mid ruins old,
¢ ©Or n the shores where earth is vein'd with gold ;
Though sad forbodings fill each waking dream,
Yesthrough the clouds a silvery light doth beam,
. O Father ! —Thou can’st hear—
: I'll trust in Thee.
" If, on the spotless fame
. OF one I love, should fall the blight of sin;
And, the fair temple angels sat within,
__Become a darken’d and pelluted spot ;
‘ Though by men cast off —loathed, and forgot=-
Thou, Father, can’st reclaim—
T'll trust in Thee.
‘lt Is Not Always Night.’
It is not always night ! though darkness reign
In gloomy silence o'er the slumberin: earth,
The hrsteniig dawn will bring the light again,
.~ And call vhe glories of the day. to birth |
The sun withdraws awhile his blessed light,
To shine again. It is not always night |
The voices of the storm may fill the sky,
And tempest sweep the earth with angry wing ;
Bat the fierce winds in gentle murmurings die,
And freshened beahity to the world they bring ;
The after calni is sweeter and maore bright. .
Though starms arise, it is not always night !
The night of nature and the night of storm
Are emblems both of shadows on the heart
Which falls and chills its carrents quick and warm
And bid the life of veace and joy depart.
A thousand shapes hath sorrow to affright
The soul of man, and shroud his hopes in night.
Yet when the darkest, saddest hour is ccme, -
And grim despair would seize his shrinking heart,
- Thedawn of hope hreaks on the heavy gloom,
.And one by one the shadows will depart.
w durknéss yields to calmand light,
the heart ,1t 1s not alwaye aightd ¢
i e s
From the N. Y. Eve Post.
: Stanzas.
_Beneath a cloudless summer sky,
“ The placid leke unruffied lay,
And on its bosom seemed to lie
The glory of a second day,
The sky, the grove, the pendent flower,
The tiny blade of grass were secn
_ Displayed in beauty's simple power—
_ Another summer’s sunny sheen
And thus, methought, the emblem lies— .
The Christian’s spirit, purged of »~in,
Displays a reflect of the skies.
A Heaven above—a Heaven within.
© Anon there came & breath of air,
So faint it scarcely seemed to blow,
Yet sweeping d‘eu‘i mirror fair -
Tt macred the fairy scene below.
The summer nk:s thflod{:l:;e,
The pendent flower, 8o bright beforg %
Theugh all was yet the same above,
Beneath the second image hore.
And thas, methought, when o'er the soul
The scarce fell breath of sin isdriven,
Too soon its waves tumultuous roll
And darkling elond the sheen of Heaven.
. p
o The Ornithelogist.
I was still _gnung, when a sudden reverse of for
tune deprived meof a kind father and affluence at
the same time. A homé wsds offered for my accept
-anceby Mrs. Priestly, & widow -lady whom T had
never seen since my infancy—distance and other
circumstances having combined to effect this sepa
ration. 2.0 = = = :
Mrs. Priestly was not only my god-mother, but
she had been the earliest chosen friend of my own
Jamented mother, and now came forward to extend
succor to the destitute orpban. In former years
remembered to have beard that she had suffered
deep sorrow-from the loss of her only child. a fine
boy, who was heir to a princely fortune indepen
dent of his mother’s eonsidérable possessions. |
There weve rumors afloat, at:the period of this
bereavement, of a peculiarly distressing natpre—
strange, half-suppressed whispers of some fearful
accident that had_rendered the widow,_ childless ;
but the memory of these things bad passed away,
and Mrs. Priestly’s first despair and agony had set
tled down: to a resigned- melancholy. -On her fine
countepahce preuatnre age was stamped-—a swmile
seldom visible ; while her mourning: ‘garb . was
never, never cast aside. She was a life-long
mourner. NS T ;
The outwar np‘_ct_ of Lodinier—sa Mrs. Priest.
Iy's domain was Ealled —was but, listle in ageord
ance with the sad heart.of s owner—for. a more
cheerful or animated scene T had rarely. witnessed.
Thq.fi“fi surropntled-by -colounades, stood an the
side of a gently-swelling hill, at the " base .of which
flowed 2 broad and sparkling river, on' which nu
_merouyboats and ficiuresque-lodking barges were
aminaly ity and e Ty m
ateh, light rnn«m‘afi- ?d efihfi«;,» - §nly
kept plessure-grounds sloping down To the & "gr's
mfi'@ ol gnd. dilvr 'bu:che-.-e&’»
; s, douhtfess, 16 produce an effect of . com
bined elegance and grace ;, whilé. on the ,gpposiie
banks, richly-wooded ; hills - were studded | with
white cottages, glanting in| the sunshine—rhough
even during rainy sseasens :Lodimer never looked
fi-y, ::‘idnd“b."w‘& of jeyousness and hi
-1 it : insi'.i.; '{ r_‘h;’; . ..,‘ -
’ TLP:I_IMDI!)'.,% overshadowed Mrs. ynqt-‘
Wflmw at this pkua’n!
but at 'fi"‘" tant eeat, ¢ zmi'jmmm
Mr. Lovell of Lovefl Castle,where s -::. .?“ ,
‘were on a visit at the figie ; and siill Mrs. Priestly.
‘continued to pay an.snpngl visit ~never:
B I o et eb o
Smsetiesyßut keenly feiphy the Siagpadont i pol
‘sanded aut Fred. my wrbloful i for 1 fuale |
“& -.J_j' . T % _fi;‘ e 2 }gf s.:
ly appreviated the excellent motives actuating Mra..
Priestly’s’ avowal. She wished to prevent false
expectations on my part, and yet to set at rest all ;
anxiety respecting the future—informing me that
the bulk of her wealth she desigwed to bequeath to
‘her nephew, Mr. Lovell’s son, but that a moderate
‘provision was secured for her dear orphun god
daughter. |
~ Bot my agitation gave way to surprise, when
Mrs. Priestly continued, addressing me, . |
“You have sense and discretion beyond finr
years, Evelin, my love ; and when you came here
to reside with me, I determined first to ascertain if
‘this were' the case, ere I confided my secret to
your kée’ping-foru} have a secret, which may not
‘be‘mentioned at Eovell Castle, when you accompa
iy me thither shortly. A-fetiv milels henced an in
\dividual resides, to wihom _I shortly intend to in
desires the strictest privacy—~bat Mr, Edwin is not
unhappy, because he knows ¢the peace within
which passeth show,” while his intellectnal'nulin-]
ments are of the highest order. :
“But in case you should weave a romance, Eve
lin, out of these details,” added Mrs. Priestly, faint-
Ay emiling, ‘it is but fair that I warn you, that ro-’
‘mance and Edwin may not be coupled together,
for he is—alas, poor fellow I-an ursightly and de
‘formed creature ; his captivations are those only of
‘the heart and mind—in this he shines pre-eminent.
Agiin let me remind you, my love, not to allude
to Mr., Edwin in conversation ; forget him alto
gether, except when you speak to me. I know
that you are not tormented with feminine curiosity,
or I'would tell youte ask no questions. This is.
my secret, Evelin, which 1 fearlessly confide to
.your keeping.” 2k .
However, Mrs. Priedtly did me more than jus-.
tice ; for though I certainly endeavored to indulge
no idle speculations on the forbidden subject, yet I
was not apathetic_enough to forget it—more espe
‘cially after accompanying Mrs. Priestly. to see her
mysterious friend, whose menage (to 2ay. nothing
of himself) might have excused a far more insensi
ble person than mys=elt for-feeling a strong interest
'and sympathy. e ¢ |
Surrounded by thick' woods on -all sides save one,
{which opened toward the sume river that washed
the emeral{ turf o Ladimer, we came to a small
&pot of ground resembling u “clearing;” and I fan
‘cied we were transported to those wild western
tands I had so often read of—the old ivy-covered
“hunting-lodge in the midst adding much to the real
‘beauty of the picture, though detracting somewhat
from its savage charms. Quantities of feathered
tribes were strutting about within the enclosure, or
enjoying themselves in various attitudes of indo
lence or security ; and an immense aviary extend
‘ed down one side of the clearing, fitted up with the
view of affording as much: solace and liberty of
movement as possible to the inmates, The whole
place seemed alive with fowls of the air, and we be
held a huoman form withih the wire work of -the
aviary, literally covered with birds, small and large,
wherever they could find a resting-place—on head,
arms or back—and many myre were flutfering and
crowding over andl around him, as Mr. Edwin—for
it; was he—proceeded to dispense food to his loving
ock. .
~ Presently he made his escape and approached
‘us, with a jay perched on one side and a magpie
on the other, appearing to hold whispering ~ dis
vourse Witit their bunefucton, who fondly carested
and chirruped to them in turn, He was of mid
dling stature, pérceptibly and painfully deformed ;
but his countenance was such an one as Raphael
would have loved to portry—holy, placid and spir
itual beyond any mortal face 1 have looked upon
before or since. His veice was inexpressibly
touching and melodious ; it thrilled "the heart of
the listener, fortlere was an intonation of sad
ness in its toues, though the words were cheer
ful as he cordially anll warmly welcomed us. We
followed him into a long, lpw-roofed apartment, the
windows of which looked out on woolland vistas;
and on all sides, from floor to ceiling, it was lined
with books, and cases containing stuffed birds—for
Me. Edwin was devoted to the study of ornithology, |
and almost rivalled Audubon in patient watching
and research.
A married couple of quiet and orderly habits
formed the domestic establishment at Ivy Lodge ;
and the profound stillness ard solitude of this syl
van retreat was unbroken, save by the cooing of
}}the cushat dove, the song-birds’ varied ‘notes, the
sonorous hooting of the white owl up among the
‘eaves, und the occasional screams of the splendid
peacocks ringing through the greenwood glades. -
~ Here was the paradise of the feathered crea
‘tures, —here they were all fostered and protected ;
‘andt Mr. Edwin had attained the mysterious-art of
ttaming the wild denizéns of the woods us surelyj
‘and wonderfully, if not as rapidly, as did" that cele
‘brated horse-leech exert his skill on quadrupeds—’
'whispering in the ear of virious and hitherto-un-:
‘tamuble steeds, which immediately becawe docile
and subdued. Even shy and stately swans knew
this lonely clearing on the river banks, .and fre
quently came to be fed by Mr. Edwin's gentle
band. - The swans had a nest here among the
-reeds, and broods of cygrets were reared “in” this
haven ‘of. peace. ! ~ : -3
. ‘Mr. Edwin had made many beautiful copies' of
‘rare birds which he could not otherwise preserve—
‘the colors being brilliant and true to nature, as{
‘well as t{e size of sach specimer ; and I felt not a
little delighted when he accepted my timid offer of
assistapee in this branch of his study—for I was
afraid that my poor efforts would fall far short of ‘
his masterly prodactions. ~ But'Mrs. Priestly reas- 1‘
sured me, and she told Mr. Edwin that he had
found'a valuable coadjutor, for bird-painting had
always ‘been quite a’passion with me —i strange
{apte perhupe, for 4 young ludy. though, Lknow not
why it.should bm:gd mere: out of the way
;thp_n eopying flawers .from nature. However, L
‘exerted myself to the utmost, and sncceeded well,
for he gave my drawings unqualified. approbation:
ard was ef‘ni;u{-m in ffi’;gpk?i?:il mé.fi‘m bPP ;
I am sure the amiable recluse real my heart at
once, and saw how. engerly and gratefully 1 ayailed
myself of this opportauiry, trifling as it was, of pgrat-’
itying Mn,,l_’r_hf-i]j, 10 whom 1 owed so, much 2
for her affection toward Mr. Edwin, readered at:
tentions bestowed on him, personally felt and ac;.
Anowledged by beed /20 ) 2 D-BULERSG
~ This similarity &rw&.'m{&ber ‘with our muta-.
‘al love and veneration for ‘Mrs, Priestly, induced
that kindly commubion beiween Mr. "Edwin and!
myself which aftérwards ripenad into a ‘lasting
friendship cemented by time. He was m,deefl) wise
unto salvation, . Learned.not orly in this world’s’
lore, but in that wislo ,filw‘uhml gp!mm&({
he bore his daily eress most. n ly “‘aml “gfivflm t
wmanfully, . Deeply ialive:to the-beaatiful, keenly
semsitive on al pe MWMM and-"affec.
tionate, he lived | lon oin the 7% Ll 1 “golitt .4; ~
not, I was copvinced, ~'?'~'f‘ a W disinehina: ;
DY SRt ion geeogint of ik per:
sonl illction, (b wi (00 Hoamble“atid ‘good, 1o
cause, some hirlden soirow, which rendered: sofi/
tude in a retreat il .:_ii bL e b
Al L‘"‘"'" d?;mw st Bwid
4&%—‘ b o ot %’**&,fl""‘”fiq{
. ' gi ar UL E L R 5 ;‘?”’ j'hg’n%
et i T&fi@% A ‘WN‘&%M&Z
onad it el che R TR LSRN S
Wltutios st o obt ootdesed Nuiish
s ihits interesting oßlect — A whenever my |
thoughts turned away from the vanities of this
world, they always rested with satisfaction on the
ornithologist. .~ .. ..
As the time drew nigh for our departure to Lov
ell Castle, I observéd a degree of restlessness in
Mr. Edwin which T had not hitherto noticed, and
frequent gloomy abstraction, which he vainly en
deavored to shake off in our presence. ~ Mrs.
Priestly often conversed alone with him-—when
| traces ‘of agitation were visible on her countenance,
and tears on his; and when she bade him farewell,
! tliese words lingered on ‘his lips:*Tell dear Mildred
how happy I am.” ; e
Lovell Castle was a dark frowning pile, bearing
‘an ancient date ; while some portions were more
antiquated still and had fallen info disuse. Tt was
a real castle of the olden time ; I had often read of
such wi‘flzptemt and delight, but now I_c?:g
vaulted chambers, trap-doors st loop-holes, intri
cate passages, secret hiding-places and curious old
oaken chests, battlements and turrets, carved work
and tapestry, banqueting-hall and chapel —in
short, all the appendages necessary for romance in
feudal days,
" 'The family consisted of Mr. Lovell, Mildred, (his
eldest danghter by a. first wife,) and Harold ani
Rose, (the children of thesecond Mrs. Lovell, who
had died when Rose was an infant,) Mildred wus
tenderly beloved by Mrs. Priestly ; and as she
never quitted ner hypocondriacal father, it was
principally to see this ‘dear niece that the widow
left ber qaiet home on the margin of Lodimer’s
blue waters.
I was absolutely startled by the extraordinary
and striking likeness between the ornithologist and
Mildred Lovell—the same placid, sweet expression
of countenance,—the same gentle, winning man
ners, too. While in unobtrusive performance of
her duties toward God and man, this good daughter
and sister journeyed onward through life, minister
ing to the comfort and well-being of all—but with
out exacting a meed of praise or a single glance of
admiration. Mildred was nabody ut Lovell Castle;
but had she been absent, her absence would bave
been universally bewailed, and her value known.
They were ,perhaps, too much used to the blessing
to appreciate it—even as the sun shines day after
day, anil we do not remark it as anything unusual,
. Rose was a volatile, thoughtless girl, yet affec
tionate und kind-hearted withal,~and she dearly
loved her elder sister, who had indeed filled the
place of a mother to her.. Rose had elastic, unva
rying spirits, which were not unwelcome in that
old dull place, and kept the inmates from stagna
tion. She and Harold were the father’s darlings,
;ho_ugh all Mr. Liovell’s hopes and pride centered in
Pre-eminently beautiful in person, active and
gruceful, Harold Lovell was born the same year as
his deceased cousin, Jocelyn Priestly ; and the
two youths had strongly resembled each other, not
unly in person, but in disposition. The partial
parents had not, perhaps, read those dispositions
truthfully, or in both their children they might
have traced evil propensities which went far to
counterbalance the good —revengeful passions, and
a proneness to selfish indulgence, which not all
their briliiant acquirements and feats of gallant
prowess could conceul from a close observer of
character. ; : S :
They were at the same school together, and at
Lowmelt Casgle for jhe w;_';y'm;._when that of}d catas:
trophe took place whicl® plunged the famiiy in
irremedial affliction, Mr. Lovell, who had always
been a nervous, ailing man, never recovered from
the shock ; and latterly bhe had sunk into complete
indolence, and left the eare and management of his
uffairs entirely to Harold—who, however, ill ful
filled Lis duties. The aversion which Mrs. Priest
ly entertained toward her nephew, and which she
vainly strove to conceal, had on~e been the source
of painful contention between Mr. Lovell and his
sister, though now it had settled down into a silent
grief never alluded 10 by either of them.
Allthese particulars I had heard from Rose;
and much was T amazed at Mrs, Priestly’s conduct,
coupled with the avowaul she had made to me re
specting the disposal of her property in fuvor of her
nephew ; but 1 knew her to be a just and strong
minded woman, and felt sure there was some mys
tery connected with these family details, which
Rose was bursting to disclose, the first convenient
opportunity. But I gave her no_encouragement to
do so, for I thought that, had Mre. Priestly wished
me to know the motives by which she was actuated
her confidence would have been bestowed; and
it seemed a breach of trust, or dishonorable,to
gain the knowledge by other means. :
- -The sweet benignity ot Mildred Lovell, her un
tiring patience and unaffected cheerfulness, as well
as the strong resemblance of feature, continually
reminded me of Mr. Edwin; and I pondered often
on the parting words which I had heard him ad
dress to Mrs. Priestly—*Tell dear Mildred how
DOPPISiom. ™ i isil vl ikN
.. And what was Mildred to Mr. Edwin ? Where
fore was he exiled and alone 2 What had he done,
that his. name was forbidden to be spoken at Lovell#
‘These ideas constantly haunted me, despite my de
termination to exclude such idle questionings con
cerning the mysterious affuir.’
. Rose sometimes communicatéd some portion of
her own gay spirit to me. .We were thrown wmuch
together, for Mildred was constantly occupied with
ber invalid patient, and Mrs. Priestly shared the
duties ofherg)elove«i niece. But I often desired
the solirede which was more congenial 10 my turn
of mind, though it was not always easy to obtain ir,
as Rose, - from . a -mistaken kindness, continually
watched’ “my ‘movements and accompanied me
wheresoever I desired togo. It was impossible to
check the afl'ecli(igmg@iriin a direct manner ; bat
I discovered that there was one locality particular
ly wvoilled by all the inmates of the castle. which.
hatl fallen into degay and ‘was seldom approached
by Rosé. This was the western wing or turret ;
awgk thither, accordingly, koften bent my steps in
senrchcof quietude, and also of a magnificent pros
peért ta be viewed fioi the:summit, b J
- Jn this sumptuoas ‘honie at Lovell Castle, my
‘thonglits'often wandered to:lvy Lodge on Lodi
mers banks, ant fts lonely’ occupant, apart from
thie yapities of lif, camteqted and ‘cheerful under
afflictions which were, I felt sure, of no-common |
natare. I compared ,the -pions reclusa with . the
heig of Lovell, towar] whem an inexpressible feel
ing of repugnance reigmed ip my breast, Harold
-wad déxoted to fiebl spiorwsand theepleasures of the
tuble ;. he was, inf fact,'the real . master, consulting
only his bwn timéan#lindlinations on all occasions.
His ‘blodted, théugh'sthi’ hundsome’ countenance,
evincell excess ;’:whfle a thictatorinl manner, as of
.otfe‘pl{usetl to rebg’oof‘p_r toptradiction, was habite
al, | 'A‘}__qénsmm restlassness and irritability, a quick
turp of the eye, & wilil glance, bepokened a mind
illiat ease. Hoe was a :fieqa‘qr at religion, 10g ;:4an
unkind brother ;tand an andutiful son to the daat
'lnglmw. who yetibelieved and saw.'mo faults in
his ‘off "ng. A S :_z i ’
Despite her brother's harshness, Rose, with most
devoted * sisterly ‘affe cfi%: extenuated Harold's
copdut'; und it Yus ver antj%; Wor
‘wug‘mfiljr tenderness g ndf‘,:forbé\.'lf%zf”_lt.‘ ht
be;becapse Mildred wastha child of another moth
er, ar_u] (_hu&%mpoja s had . t weakened
the tieg of 'bloed 5 bat notwithstan her gemeral
it demadnor e al, ncoding i,
ihoté mwas a_percipiible. sbade of coldners wher,
sigirpolthy bim, ¢ S3cporar volnnses 1, him al |
rage, to be east off; the persew Igs Wi
to engage inany b W TORI R Iven vSY |
there was somo nfifi,‘;m,fi Bad wesned |
and dividé;fl this brother and sister, until the erring
one showjd turn and repent. And who could
doubt that Mildred Lovell would open wide her
arms {0 teceive the penitent ?
I had sought my favorite deserted turret, to
contemy‘te a glorious sunset behind the distant
mwmmwheulafle joined me on the summit,
from wh we gazZed on'the dizzy depth below.
She wasgnusually serious and pale—her laugh was
hashed, ind she spoke in whispers. 2 :
“Why!do you choose thisspot, Evelin, to indulge
your réseries ?” she said, “for I cannot bear to
remain bigre—and Harold would not ascend this
western pwer for all theruniverse” = |
“And hy is it so distasteful to you, Rose ?” 1
enquiredwith some curiosity—*‘for the view is the
most supprb | ever witnessed. Is this wiofi_ of the
castlo beunted ?” I added, wh{% smile, taking her
Al o voakin A nearer o the edge, which
‘was guirded only by a very low and browd @ire
» She convalsively drew dhe back, exclaiming,
“0Oh! Evelin, if you knew the dreadful recollec
tions attached to this turret, you would not marvel
at my being so nervous. I do not believe it is
hagnted, but there are folks who do. They report
:f:t white fleecy shadows hover around it by night,
‘though perhaps the owls and birds building in the
e#évices may account for the supposed supernatural
«."# And wherefore, Rose, is this turret in such bad
repute ¥ What are the dreadful recollections
gttacl;ed toit? A legend of olden times, per
aps ”
“Alas! Evelin,” responded my companion, “ "tis
a reality of our own. My poor cousin, Jocelyn
Prsestly, met with his fearful end here. He fell
frem this dizzy height on the shaven turf beneath,
and lived but a few moments afterward.”
“But bow did this fatal accident occur, Rose ?”
linquired. “Why have you never mentioned it
before "
Paier than ever, Rose replied with a faltering
voice, *'Because it wasnot an accident, Evelin”—
(she shivered and put her lips down close to my
ear) —"he was cast down intentionally I"
“By whom, Rose ?” My heart throbbed violent
lt.)y-.strange throughts were rushing through my
rain. :
“I dare not tell you—l am forbidden to reveal
more. I was very young at the time, and things
were hushed up | but ‘poor Milly hus been a
changed being ever since.”
“Mildred !I” exclaimed I, in surprise; “what effect
could this tragedy have on her, more than on other
membegs of your fumi)in?-"
“It had, it had, Evelin, because she desired to
screen the guilty. Bat ask me no more, and let us
quit this hateful place.” :
My mind was bewildered and uneasy. Who
ceuld the guilty person be an'l wherefore such a
mystery preserved ? The wildest conjectures dis
turbed my imagination, while redoubled love and
svmpathy were given to the bereaved mother.—
But this tangled web was soon to be unravelled—
unravelled in an awful and sudden manner—for
that avenging amm wus outstrétched which no mor
tal ean withstand. X :
We were preparing to" returp home, and 1 was
happy in the near prospeet of seeing dear Lodimer
so soon, Harold Lovell left the castle at early
morn in high health and ipirits, to aftend a race
neeiing, some few miles off, with seweral boon cam
mfi’ A quarrei uriss’c..'imi“fl'g&&." Geéming
hi“lf insuited, and wmore than half inehriated,
stritk a desperate gambler, who demanded satis
faction on the spot. Hurold fell, mortally wounded
and was borne back to Lovell on a hitter, late in the
evening. The father's despair, blessedly merged
in_insensibility, the sister’s agony, we draw a veil
Mrs. DPriestly, Mildred, and myself, with the
merical attendants, alone were calm and of use,
so fur, indeed, as human aid extended. The do
mestics were wildly running bither and thither-~
but to no purpose : Harold Lovell was rapidly dy
ing, Mrs. Priestly supported the expiring sufferer;
she bathed his temples, and spoke words of peace.
Yon would have deemed him the son of her fondest
love. All dislike merged in pity and in the most
tender solicitude.
~ Suddenly Harold opened his. glazing eyes to
‘their widest extent : he- recognized Mrs. Priestly,
‘while a shudder convulsively shook his whole
frame. He essayed to articulate, and at length
‘these broken sentences were heard : “Forgive me,
“Aunt Priestly—now forgive. *Twasl did it! Ed
win is innocent—l am the murderer. Oh! mercy!
mercy !
Mrs. Priestly had sunk down beside the couch,
as with clasped hands she raised her streaming eyes
to heaven. Then burying her face, she mur
mured, v
41 do forgive you, poor boy, and so does Edwin,
freely.” . .
The spirit passed into eternity, as she spoke these
words.~— 1 saw Mildred fling herself into Mrs,
Priestly’s arins, and I remember no more, for, un
used to such seenes, my strength succumbed.
Mr. Lovell and his son were laid side by side in
the family vault on the same day—the broken
heasted father surviving his child but a few hours.
Thar son’s dying confession was repeated to him ;
although he took no notice at the time, and lived
not to make restitution to the innocent. Bat to his
daughters,as co-heiresses, the whole of his immense
wealth descended ; and yet Mr. Lovell left a son—
a good, noble-hearted son, whom he bad unjustly
disinherited. e gy
"~ ‘When the disinherited was told that the only
‘words his departed parent had spoken after receiv
ina’his death-blow:~the only token of consciousness
he-had evinged, was in faintly mormuring, ‘‘Bless
Edwin, my son,” that son valued the world’s wealth
ibixgu dross_in comparison ; nor wanld ha have
exchanged thosp precious words for -all the un
con’nt&f riches of the globe. - Hisfather, then, had
believed: him ignhocent, and had. blessed him ! and
Edwin, the. orpithologist. qf;lz{.kodg‘e_, came.to
Lovell Castle, justly lord of all, gg;pw_nm‘f nath
ing save a thankful heart and a_ pm‘cefu} mind—to
be clusped in the arme’of his fuithful sister Mildred;
for they were twins, and linked together in. Heart.
. Theayand not.till sl’m wege the following: fi*"'}'
ticulars narrated to Rose and g;.mlf. by Mrs.
Priestly. Rose mourned deeply, %t%lg:flcfl to.the
livifit‘efifl!fle’d full disclosure of th trath: " |
Edwin had never been a fa(;rori(t; ;.nh hh_fmbb?;.
afell ininfa ving rendered him unsightly,
utfi m&%]:lgmegfifaelicngm which
induced that Jove of studious repese, s 0 opposite (o
those gualities which Mr. Lovell' :adwired in his
z«mm & tator. wat provided for Edwin at
howe, ' while. Hareld, .’.Fé,g 18, € “&Mf“
Priestly, was sent Ms og:‘h i & e ttl;,q.fifil.
ing thought wfi 048, R RINE prten. o ,:
:.i”“ by joking ,i-.tfii;@n!-'f Edwin's. per
otih] ‘deformityy call mmn:‘kmm
_ The_ cquarrels and rivalry betweey Harold and
;_}- a | \ ,fir .v‘ &‘H 7'., ,u' h‘“‘, %
than formerly, Jobelyn Prigatly having : cartind off
a'prize fromi H Iy whion th &B%R‘ Yas.
A A s e
nfosfonateeider brother, that Bdwin_ detarmined
’ ékfli #g YRR “s”"‘ "“"“ ble ald {wmfi ;
t\;‘;m"f g““*‘ L] v':..fimvl"f R gisf@l: fif:‘u. fl
- AT ; \ . " : )‘- * r.é‘“
tried to make peace and preserve concord.— Mrs,
Priestly, with a mother's doating partiality for an
only child, never allowed Jocelyn to be in fault,
though she would often chide his exhuberant spir
its, and liked not that he should wound the genile
Edwin, whom she dearly loved.
Mr: Lovell, on the other hang, laughed at the
lai’s faults ; and when he could mot laugh, winket
at them : “Edwin was a milk-sop, and Harold and
Jocelyn fine, high spirited, bandsome fellows, who
would grow wiser as they grew older.” Mrs,
'frieitly""boped so”~~ghe *‘prayed so; and Jocelyn
was so clever and handsome, that a little steadiness
was all he needed : ‘there was nothing else amiss.”
So argued the blind mother ; and, next to Harold,
his uncle’s affections were lavished wupon ” ihis
ne@ew. o N -
'hen these two youths made their appearance at
the castle, Edwin x ‘figxly retired ;cp':} estern
resting on: "Mecti&mo,f which served.as a
bench, part of the edifice screening him from view,
when Jocelyn Priestly appeared on the summit
‘'with a telescope in hand, and with boyish reckless.
ness jumped on the low parapet, balancing himself
on the extreme edge &8 he applied the glass to his
eye. :
In another moment Harold came leaping up the
turret stairs, boiling with furious passion ; and
darting forward, he clutched at the glass, screaming
as he did so “How dare you takezmy telescope, sir,
when you know I forbade you ?” There was a vio
lent struggle—a desperate;thrust, succeeded by &
scream of borror and despair—and Edwin bebeld
his brother alone on that dizzy beight |
All this had passed in a moment of time, appar
ently. Harold looked around with a wild, terrified
filance, and fled ; Edwin’s limbs refusing to sustain
im in his efforts to reach the parapet, as he lost
‘consciousness and swooned.
Jocelyn Priestly’s full had been noticed by the
gardener, who gave an instant alarm ; but the ill
fated lud expired in bis distracted mother'’s arms,
after articulating, “I am mardered !”
Edwin wzs found on the summit of the western
turret—his incoberent exclamations and agitation
being considered proofs of guilt by his father and
tutor. He solemnuly asseverated his innocence, but
refused to enter inte particulars until h's brother
Harold returned—for Harold was absent, it was
supposed in the adjacent woodlands, where he oft
times resorted to praetice with his gun.
When he did return, Harold with well-acted surprise
heard the dreadful tidings. and demanded. in a careless
manner, where Edwin had been at the time! When
informed that he was foand on the summis of the tov
er, and of the deceased’s fearfol avowal in his dying
moments, - Harold excleimed. “Edwin has indeed
avenged himself on poor Jocelyn " And Edwin wss
thus brunded as the dastardly wretch who had taken
his cousin’s life !
Edwin denizd the foul deed with indignation snd
horrer , but when Harold's words were repeated to
him, he hung his head end blushed scarlet. He spoke
no, more, save 1o affirm hie innocence; and when
questioned ss to Joeelvn Priestly having been near
him on the tawer just before he met his death, Edwin
admirtted the facr: bu® when further pressed, he hecame
confused, and the most painful internal struggles were
Mr. Lovell discarded his sow forever. Ile would not
harbor. he said, one who had vengetully taken the life
of bis beloved nephew ; the law. iudecd, cenld not
-reach the criminal but a father's muledictiof could —
Bmaba dos Loy Rlasmd e disgweed and. diciohe:ised
hy his indignant parent, “EIO granted Lima 4 yripend
barely sufficient for a subsistence, and thiu#t Bim forth
as an alicn -
Harold had not encountered bis brother’s placid
gave ; he shrunk from being alone with him—and
when Edwin begeed for an audience, it was refased.
Mildred protested her brother's innocence:—Kdward
had never swerved from trath in his life. And strange
to say, there was anuther who sided with Mildred—and
that other the miserable mather df the vicum. She
had scratinized and watched Harold Lovell closely;
and when Edwin kopelt bevide her and said, with quiet
but impressive firnness, I am innocent. auni~-I never
injured a hair of my cousin’s head,” he was belicved by
that jealous, breaking heart.
“But yon were there, Edwin,” cried the poor lady ;
“yon witnes<ed it : he came not to his end by fair means.
Speak—your brother—was it ke did this foul-dced, for
he e?vibd and hated my son—the bace, cowardly trai
tor!’ < $g
Pas-ion choked Mrs. Priestly’s utterance, and Edwin
was mute. Neither prayers nor entreaties induced him
to explain past circumstances.connected with. the dire
ful catastrophe. He bore the barden of another’s guilt
he bore in sitence the contumely that should have been
heaped on another. and was banished from the parental
roof. But conviction found its way to Mrs Priestly's
heart; and, though Mr. Lovell was implacable, 'nor
would listen to a suspicion implied that he might be
deceived, the mother intuitively shrank from contact
with. the false-hearted Harold Lovell.
*"As years progressed the truth became more and more
firmly impressed on her mind ; and to him. accused by
his own father of being her only child’s destroyer, she
left the'batk of her fortune, and established the out
cast in her near vicinity. firmly trusting that the Al
mighty. in-his own good time,would bring the culprit to
light. Her heart fixed on this culprit, but Mr. Lovell
contintied in'error and darkness. Those precious words
spoken in his last hour proved, however, that darkness
was dissipated and error abandoned, whem the dying
man-‘murmured a blessing on his exiled son, who had
sacrificed himself to shield an ungrateful brother from
shame.and opprobrium. 3
- 'Within two years after her father’s and brother's de
oease, Rose réwarded the long and sincere attachment
of a neighboting squire, by becoming his wife, Lovell
Castle. was 'sold, and Mildred repaired to Lodimer;
whilg, on the original site of Ivy Lodge, a more com
modioas dwelling was in course of preparation. There
she resided with lier-beloved brother for the remainder
of their jbint lives ; and Mr Edwin found in his sweet
companion not only a valuable coadjutor in_his. favor
ite pursuits; but an-absolute rival in the- affections of
his feathered pets : while the swan’s nest among the
tgeds an the banks of Lodimer’s fair witers, continucd
to be as carefully preserved and guarded as it had been
during the solitary'years of the now happy ornitholo
-B’“* ¢ by - 4 : g
g'mmmra or Liquors.=~The following statement
upon this subject is from the Boston Post
Jt may not be withott interest at this time, to show
the*per centum of alcohol in several of the “intoxicat
ing lignids” which will come under the cognizance of
the Maine law when passed in this State. It will be
seen that the coalition of alcohel with other liquids is
most apparent even in drinks which are usually regard.
ed as very-innocent i— 00l Y
-« Port wine = . 2392 per centum.
adeira By 2281 . do.
B e 1837 do.
: rdeaux claret - ISAI do.
5 Lnldns oo Joweds 76 sl 48E do.
" Maloga, . . oo 1588 do.
. Champagne 1046 do.
iy ifis ) 1700 do. |
N\ eby (n,yinq . 1096 do. .
S 914 do.
“avownitger ¢ oo SRR, 41
Ale g o , oy MO Aoy ol
i R e - 4971 ~do. %‘
T m i d ‘5% ¥ as7rs_‘s*“o ;*‘
o S . e
. I.Arish . whi key.. vLe TR GO ¥
© i Alechol of gomserce ¢< . 9000« do.
sl R S o 0
vegatable jnices and infusions of a fa s ey
e “W“Z‘WW‘*“ g )
make It so consist of saual velules e alcohel
Vol. XCVIII--«Ne. 13,
Precocious Republicanism;
“Get out of the way, you young rascils #/
This address was made by a geatleman with g verf
imperious air and something naval officer-like in hig
costume and mannere, who was seated in a handsome
n%en carriage with a fashionably dressed lady by his
The “young rascals” whom he thus honored with hie
notice. were two boys ten or twelve years old. dealers
in shingle shavings, an article very much used in Phil
‘adelphia for kindling coul fires The lads were wheelr
ing six or eight bundies of their commodity in' a hand«
cart, and they happened to meet the gentleman in hi¢
carriage in a part ol the street which was obstructed by
a large pile of firewood. which made it impossible for
the two vehicles to pass each other unless one of the
drivers should have the complaisance to draw back. -
- “Qet out of the way. you young rascals!” said the
gentleman in.the carriage: - '
. The young shingle shavings merchavits looked as
the speaker with aindiguised astonishment, and he was
whilzedso repsat.the order before they seemed to reals”
‘jze that they were the party spokento. =~ - S
At last one of the young gentlemen made answer,
“Qet out of the way yourself, and be blamed to Je P
It was now the turn of the gentleman in the earriage
to be sstonished. ~ Pale with rage he exclaimed, '-
*Do vou know who I am, you villains %"
_"No. we don’t,” exclaimed one of the bovs—*some
Englishman, I guess. Do von know who we are #”
~_The gentleman was obliged to confess his ignoranée;
which he did in a tone of supreme eontempt.
“We are American citizens,” said one of them with
great impunity. i
“Is thar any reason why vou shou!d block up the
7treeu ?’ said the imperious gentleman very excited
“To be sure it is.” replied the juvenile--*‘who. bas &
better right to the streets # We are the majority—two
to one—l guess, and the majority carries everything in
this country.” : :
The aristocratic gentleman seemed disposed t 6 be'y
very violent. but probably observing that the bystand
ers—who were now very numerous—sympathizad with
the republican partv, he swallowed his wrath and sat
silent for several minutes, as if reflecting what course
he should pursue in these perplexing circumstanees.
The lndy who sat by him now spoke for the firsf
time, and in & sweet and gentle voice she said to the
zWill you oblige me by allowing us to pass 1 ;
“Certainly. mudam."” srid the sturdy young republiv
can,—"*we'll do anvthing for a lady, or for a man who
knows now to'hehave himse!f as a gertieman ; but as
for giving way to s stuck up rowdy like him, blamed
if we wouldn't rather stay here tiil the next fouwrth o
July 1"
They then drew back and allowed the carriage so
prss without further hindrance.— Philadelphia Penn
! sylvanian.
A Lesson of Time.
A Criry IxcipeNT.—Passing down Canal stres
vestesday, our artention was attracted by a groupe!l
boys surrounding 2n old woeman. On a nearer view
it was evident that she was verv old —certainly not
less than seventy, and probabiy she had lived to the ex
tent of fourseore years of varied plea vre and suffering.
Whatever had heen the blessings of her youth, snd
whatever share she had had in the gdod things of the
earth, with which the young and gay and light hearted
dre made glad—-whatever portion of comfort and com
petence she had possessed in the maturcr years of life,
and whatever suppert or consclation she had ever
known—it was now manifest that she lacked all. For
she carried very feebly and with tortering steps the load
of her years alonz the street, and loeked vacantly
around, as if her eyes were accustomed to strange faces:
anfl orused v futks of kindneesor Jover - : :
In her thin and shaking hand she carried a small
stick, on which were strung a row of sixpenny watches,
wh ivh she was retailing to the children around her. who
looked coriously from the watches to the woman. and
seemed—<ome of them at least, if one might judge
trom their gazing countenances—to be drawing the
moral that a thoaghtful brain could not avoid drawing
from the strange scene.
It was not merely that the old woman was selling
toys. slthough in that was a lesson—for it was like
bringing closer together the two ends of life, and re
moviny at » dash all the long years that intervene be
tween childhood and fourseore ; but it was in the idea
that she was gelling to the children around her nothing
but toy watches—as if 1o teach them how to play with
time. ;
What other lesson was she fitted to teach ¥ Had
time been a serious affair 1o her * True, in its passing
it had been bitterly so, — and the wrinkles on hes
checks. the heavy weights on her body, and the heavy
pulsations of her heart, bore evidence to that. But
what had it all come to # She had had children hless
ing her with their young glad eves, and eclinging
around her with the fondest of childhood’s pure love ;
but time for them had proved a vanity, and they were
gone—and their graves were unmarked in the Porter's
Field, and their names had passed ‘away from every
where except her heart. She had had other affections,
—bhut they too were dead, or lived only in the memo
ries of an aching soul. She had lived, had toiled, had’
loved. had won love,—and what had it all amounted'
to # She was once a glad eyed girl—sixty years ago,
and none so fair, none so full of joy and merriment ;—
but what of all that ?
She had hved long enough to know that all was van
ity ; and if she had not thought of it herself, there was,.
nevertheless, a bitter moral in her traffic, and a scene
for thought in the group around her. The skeptic
needs no better subject for thought—the disheliever in
a future existence may ponder well the picture thus
presented. »
Some day—one of the cold March mornings.mayhap
—she will he found dead in a garret or cellar, with her
small stock of unsold wares around her. The picture
will be a fearful one then. and one from which a ser
mon may be preached with tremendous force to those
who believe that that is the “end of all.”—N. Y. Jour
nal of Commerce. : ‘ ‘
A Sermon To Young Ladies.
Harx, Ye Gires —lt is high time, somebody told
you a little plain truth. You have been watched for
@ long time—& vertain class of you—and it is plain
enough you are trving plans to cheat somebody. Youw
intend tosell chaff for wheat; and there is danger that
some of the foolish “gudgeons,” will be sadly taken
in. y
It may not be vour fault that you belong to the “one
idea party”—that the simj 1« idea of getting a husband
is the ouly one that engrosses much of your time or
attention, Bat it is your fault that you pursue this
idea.in the wrong direction. . Your venerable mother of
Eden memory was cailed a “help” for a man, and you
are looking for a mate 1o help you ; to help vou to live
in the half idle and halfsilly way you have commenced.
Men who are worth having, want wemen for their wives.
A bundle of gewgaws, bound with astring of flats and
quavers, sprinkled with cologne, and set in 2 carmine
saucer~ this is no help for a man who expects to vaise
a family of boys and girls on veritable bread and meat.
The piano and the lace frame are well enough in their
places ; and so are ribbons and frills and tinsels, bus
you can’t make a dinner of the former, nor a bed blank
et of the latrer. And awful as the idea may seem to
you both dinner and bed blanket are necessary to do~
mestic en{oymem. Life has its realities as well as ite
fancies ; but you make it all a matter of decoration—=re
‘membering the tassels and curtains, but forgetting the
hedstead. Suppose a young man of good sense, and of
course good prospects, to be looking for a wife, what
chant@ have you to be chosen * You may cap him, or
tra .N.grm him ; but how much better to make
11 an object for him to catch 0u : liende m‘ rselves
E.;‘_‘zfs_‘.fg VT ,-* $5 k soti » ‘.’;
»-!ri;;:fiww R REaa v ;{ dea e
TR e A e;e "‘ o %
“ ‘{*‘ 0 "”‘Vg-“‘@"flw: g gt '- g dimly.—
Otre 0f thahe Thik 16 Be Tl abotns on'th
‘Efi e o . _.-.:,;a st e . _‘
R & the R
il Sawine ehia dbis e ,g‘»\n ::;v» TR
ok ety e b catitgie LR, 5

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