Newspaper Page Text
P. B. CONN, PUBLISHER CORNER MARKET AND 4TH $2 P . E II A N 1ST. U 51 INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE, SLlcckljr $0110111!, jptbotft' to linericaiv fitots, Pt rature, . finite, anb (Intcrnl ntcljicttcf.: .-v. Z, II AGAN, Editor and Proprietor. STEUBENVILLE, OHIO, WEDNESDAYpAUGUST 8, 1855. . VOLUME I. NUilliER ALL'S FOR THE BEST. BY TITPII. All's fur the best ! le sanguine and cheerful, Trouble and sorrow are friends in disguise ; Nothing but folly goes faithless andfoarful Courngo forever is happy and wise. All's fur thebeBt, if man would but know it Providence wishes us all to be blest ; This is no drown of the pundit or poet, Heaven is gracious, and all's for the best! All's fur the best 1 set this on your standard, Soldier of sadness or pilgrim of love, Who to the shores of sadness may have wand'red A way-wearied swallow or heart-stricken dove. All' for the bent ! be a man, but confiding Providence tenderly governs thereat; And th frail bark of his creature is guidiug, Wisely and warily ull fur the best. All's fur I lie best I then ilibg away terrors, Meet nil your fears and your foes in the van ; And, in the midst of your dangers and errors Trust I ike a child, while you stri vo like a man. All's fur the best I unbiased, unbounded, Providence reigns from the east to the west ; And, by both wisdom aud mercy surrounded, Elope, and be happy, that all's for the best I adventure, and it was with an indefinable sensation that his niiud dwelt upon the youthful Btrangcr to whom he hud afforded such timely aid. Of many a dream was she tlie theme ; many an hour did he wile away endeavoring to recall each teature of her couutcnance and imprint it more forci bly upon his memory; tor he was resolved that if they ever met a second time, he tfould renew the acquaintance so propiti ously (for him at leust) begun. But tho' for weeks he watched the arrival and de parture of the omuibus, she never came agaiu. Alas, poor truest ! CHAPTEll It. MZ7.IE CAR1UNGTON. ".Sinclair, my good fellow, how are you?' exclaimed a manly voice as, a few months after the incident related above, Ernest LIZZIE CARRINOTON; OR, THE COQUETTE'S FIRST LESSON BY MLLA HE11BKUT. Carrington and his companion beheld a lively scene ! In one corner ot the room was a lady quite young, who held in her arms a little girl who might have number- j ed two years. Beside her stood a pretty girl of fourteen, with dark hair aud deep blue eyas, her fair face convulsed with luughtcr as she watched the movements of another young girl apparently about a year her senior, who was dancing about the room with a w ell -grow u kitten, to the tuac of 'Dandy J im.' A soldier's cap of paper, ornamented with red ribbous was placed roguishly upon her head but beneath it fell over a pair of white shoulders a pro fusion of glossy tresses, which in her gam bols hud escaped from the comb that con- fiiirtJ ' t tut in A nan rf citnilfii iiiiitniMul binclair was taking a stroll m Broadway, , . ,, ,. . , , , , , , , , , ,. ! but smaller dimensions adorned the head CHAPTER I. THE STAGE-COACH. ' 0 woman's love ! at times it may Sueui cold and clouded, but it burns With true undeviating ray, And never from its idol turns." Ckoiy, Tho last signal had been given, aud the omuibui! which daily fussed through the lit tics village of 0 was about to depart on its accustomed route. Standing at tho door of the "Stage House," Ernest Sinclair had, for the last half hour, been amusing himself with watching the confusiou and bustle that pre vaded the interior of the stage-coach the cries of childreu, the disposing of bun dles and baskets, the scrambling for scats and adieus to frieuds. Suddenly his at tention was drawn off by thc.sound of carriage- wheels, aud tho next instant a hand some barouche and grays dashed at full speed up the laue and stopped direetly in front of tho hotel. Another moment and the carriage door was opeued by a liveried footman, who assisted two females to alight -onc apparently quite youthful, the other evidently advuueed in years. Their faces were closely veiled, but tho sylph-like form and graceful bearing of the younger made Ernest Sinclair wish that he could pene trate that thick 'wiaty curtaia' of gauze, and obtain a view of her countenance. With much interest he watched their mo- tious. und at leii"th saw them direct their steps toward tho well-filled stage. The eldor of the two had obtained a seat, and her companion lingered for a moment on the steps of the omniDus wnue sue gave u pari dnir messaL'o to the footman, asd the driver, .deeming all were ready aud impatient to be off, cracked his whip, und the horses started. Au exclamation ot alarm issued from all tho bystanders the young girl tottered and would havo fallen to the grouud had not. Ernest Sinclair sprang hastily forward and caught her in hia arms thus, in all probability, saving her from .defornulv for lite ! The stage-coach was detained, and many now gathered rouud to congratulate the vouix centleman on his well-timed activi ty; but ho was too busy ascertaining whether the young lady had suffered from the alarm her dangor must have occasion ed, to heed them. A voice most Boftly musical assured him that she had not, and thanked him for rescuing her j and as she BDoke. tho lady drew aside her veil and re vealed a very lovely face; one of the sweetest, Sinclair thought, that ne nau over seen. Sho appeared to very young ; perhaps not fifteen, aud there was ah in telligent, yet mischievous light in those dark blue eyes, though they now beamed gratofully upon hor presorver. Fivo minutes after, she was seated be sido her frind in the Btage-coach ; once more tho driver gathered up the reins and flourished bis whip high in the air, the horses noighed and pranced, and ere many seconds had elapsed the omnibus was lost in the distance. Ernest Siuclair stood gazing abstracted ly upon the vehielo till it disappeared from sight, und then turned thoughtfully toward home to dream of that fair girlish face and remember the soft clasp of that little hand! ' , Often afterwards did he think ef that for he had come to the metropolis on a visit previous to his departure for foreign parts. The young man turned round sur prised at the suddeu salutation, and saw be side him his old acquaintance and collego chum, Henry Carringtou. "Harry ! My old friend, how are you'l" said Ernest, seizing the extended hand and giving it a hearty shake. "Well, Eruest, are you niurricd yet V asked Carriugtou, at the eoncluriou of. a lengthy conversation upon the past, 'or are you still iu a state of single blessed ness, 'a bachelor doomed to die,' as the song says V "Not quite so bad as that, Harry. True I have not yet come across the right one ; ! but I hope to do fit one of these days. As yet 1 don't troublo myself much upon the subject." "But it is high time, Sinclair, that you did begin to trouble yourself upon the subject. Why, man !' exclaimed Caning ton, slapping him emphatically upon the shoulder, 'you must havo passed your twenty-fourth year, and with such a for tuuo as your's you ought to havo married long ago. Even I, who am your senior by only a twelvemonth, have been a Benedict of the partner of her dance ; and poor puss looked sadly victimized us she was whirled rapidly round the room by her frolicsome mistress. Here was evidently the cause of all the mirth for the lady in thu comer was laughing right merrily, though now and then pausing when she had gained breath, to join in the singing : "I looked iu the glass and found it so, I'm the best looking nigger in the county 0." while the baby clapped her hands aud fair ly shrieked with delight ! But why did Eruest Sincluir gaze with such eager, al most breathless scrutiny upon the face of the youthful dancer ' Why did he start almost wildly as he exclaimed, "who is she V "That," whispered tho Benedict, who was at this moment absorbed in the con templation of the gayety of his better half, (who, by-the-bye, was the lady that held the child,) "that is my wife." "Your wife !" ejaculated Sinclair, as a suddeu pain shot through his heart ; 'that young girl your wife !" "Oh, you refer to tho danscuse," said Carriugtou, smiling archly, for ha now contemplated his friend's meaning. "That is Lizzie, my little chatterbox of a sister. still lingered iu New York, and was often a visitor at Mr. Carrington's. He had by this time become well acquainted with the family, aud was a favorite with all par ticularly with tho maiden sisters, Jane and Chloe, especially the latter, who believed herself to be the object of his visits. And was it so ? Ah ! reader, why ask the ques tion ? If you could have explored the depths of Sinclair's heart, you would have discovered that no less a person than Miss Lizzie Carrington, the little school girl, attructed him to the house of his friend. But though day after day he called there, he had not since the momentous evening of liis arrival, beheld her. Eruest often wondered at this he had forgotten Lizzie's avowed distaste to tho society of gentle men, and did not know' that the Misses Jane and Ohloc, fearful of . their younger sister's charms, did all in their power to keep her out of the way of their supposed admirer. muiuiug to study with her younger sister Julia, iu the sitting room, Lizzie would briug her books into the parlor, and Er nest often found himself of great use to the little school-girl. Was she at a loss for the meaning of a French phrase, he was near to translate it. Was sh c search ing for a poetic quotation to insort in her composition, he knew just where to fiud oue ; or if he did not, the deficiency was quickly supplied from the effusions of his own brain. In short, Ernest Sinclair and Lizzie Carriugtou became well acquainted very well acquainted indeed ; aud tho' Miss Chloe looked on, it was without sus picion, for the felt conGdcut that Sinclair would never throw hiinHelf away upon such a flighty little creature as her sister Lizzie. these three years. Believe me, Eruest, But take cure and do not lose your heart, you would feel much happier in a comfort- Mr. Ernest, for I forewarn you that she ablo house of your own, with a gentle, pretty littlo wife to be mistress of it." Ernest Sincluir sighed inwardly und thought of his lost inamorata, aud he was about to relate his romantic adventure to his companion, when au idea that it might meet with ridiculo prevented him. Just then they arrived at the Astor House, and as this famous hotel was his residence for the present, he bade Carringtou adieu, after having accepted a pressing invitation to spend that evening with him. ecordiwg to Uis promise, about seven o'clock, Sinclair found himself at the door of his friend's dwelling, a stately mansion in Second Avenuo. He rang tho bell aud was soon admitted by a colored man, by whom he was ushered into the richly furnished parlor. Two ladies were sitting by a table sewing they raised their eyes as the visitor entered, and he caught a glimpse of two countenances, certainly not very prepossessing in their appearance. The ladies continued their work, and the visitor awaited with impatience the appearance of his friend. Iu a few seoonds more the door opeued, and Carrington en tered, aud alter giving his guest a warm welcome, introduced the ladies as his sis ters, th Missel Carrington. Tho next ten miuutcs were occupied in a lively con versation between the two gentleman, and then Sinclair moved toward the tablo whero the ladies were stationed ; and on a nearer view he wae enabled to discover that tho their Btyle of dress wbb youthful, they had both evidently passed their thirtieth year. After a few commonplaoe remarks, which were replied to with formal politeness by the one and a sort of strained attempt at condescension by the other, he again re sumed his seat beside Carrington ; and the departure of the ladies from the room after a few minutes had elapsed left the two frieuds to themselves. Half an hour afterward the two gentle men were aroused by the sound of laugh ter, and several joyous ringing peah salu ted their ears 1 A smile stole across Car rington'i face be advanced to the door and motioned Sinolair to follow him, With noiseless steps thoy moved through the hall, and at length Carrington ha1 ted in front of an apartment from whence tho merriment seemed to proceed. The door was standing partly jnr, and jpceping in bids fair to be a most desperate little flirt.' At the first part of this information, Sinclair felt inexpressibly relieved ; for in Lizzie Carringtou he had recognized the young lady to whom he had been of so much service more than four months pre vious! She had now to all appearance concluded her antics, for she had seated herself upon a chair, and was busily en gaged divesting the kitten of her orna mental attire. Ernest Sinclair thought he could never tire gazing upon that fair and laughing face ; but his attention was now attracted by the sound of Mrs. Carring ton's voice. "Conio, Lizzie," she said, smilingly, as she advanced and took the young girl's hand, "uow that you have put the finish ing stroke to your graud dance, suppose we adjourn to the parlor aud claim an in troduction to Henry's friend, Mr. Sinclair.' "No, indeed, Mary, I shall do no such thing' she replied, withdrawing her hand; "I have a great deal to study this evening aud cannot afford to waste any moro time." ' "But you positively must sea him, Liz zie aye, and set your cap for him, too ; from all accounts, he would just suit you young, handsome and wealthy." At this moment Sinclair would havo left his station, but Carrington perceiving his intention, caught his hand and detain ed him by force; and he was obliged, though against his will, to listen to Lizzie's answer. "set uiy capl" she exclaimed, with a contemptuous toss of her head, "just as though I ought to trouble my head about beaus. For shame, Mary Carrington, to put such silly thoughts into a little school girl's brain ! Set my cap, indeed 1 No, no, Mary ; for once I congratulate mysolf on being wiser than you, though you arc the elder. So, go to tli9 parlor, good sis ter, and leave me alone with my studies." And in spite of Mrs. Carrington's con tinued entreaties Lizzie remained firm in her refusal ; aijd when hor sister turned away with many expressions of discontent, Lizzie's only reply, accompanied by a play ful shrug of hor pretty shoulders, was "11 favi touffrir patiemmemcnt ee qtti est inevitable." ("What cannot be cured, must be endured." IHjs passed away, aud Ernest Sinclair CHAPTER III. 1.1ZZIK AGAIN. "Her form -the prettiest iu the world, Her stepa fairy'e flight, Her hair like clouds in sunshine, curled In clusters wild and bright. A child, 1 said ; so artless, wild, And full of mirth her mien ; You'd deem her but a lovely child, Though she was just fifteen." One afteruoou, Sinclair1 had caHcd at au early hour for the purpose of leaving Miss Chloe a book of poeuis Ire had promised to lend her, and he was about to hike his leave again, when tho parlor door was sud denly tjjrown opeu, ud Liziie Carrington, with a satchel in one hand aid two or three books in the other, cnterid. Throwing them hastily upon the tuba, without per ceiving that there was a stranger near, sho seated herself upon th nearest chair, aud a merry peal of laUgtcr schoed through the apartment ! In au in taut more, she was followed by another yomg girl, rather her junior, who came bomdiug into the room, aud threw her arms round Lizzie's neck while she whispered f few words that only served to convulse he: the more ! Tho prim, formal Miss (hloe was shock edabsolutely shocked, atbciug an obser ver of such improprieties, and forgetting her usual amiability, she exclaimed iu a tone of severity, "Chiklrei, I am ashamed of you. Julia Carriugta Lizzie will you never acquire a prope degree of dig nity'" But tho children as they were styled, only laughed the ladcr and heart ier. At length Lizzie recovred sufficiently to look round her ; and th first object that met her sight Was Ernest Sinclair sitting by the window. In au nsfant her face was suffused with blushoj' she cast down her eyes, then raised thci again and gazed earnestly upon him. Thatlook was enough; she had discovered one t whom she was greatly indebted ! Hastly advancing, she Beized his extonded haul and once more bent her eyes gratefully upou him, while she faltered forth a few words of recogni tion 1 Miss Chloe was an miazed observer of the scene ; till, deeiniig some explanation of her seemiug boldiuss necessary, Lizzie turned to her aud deViled tho manner in which she had prevously met tho gentle man beforo her, whoe name, as sho assert ed, she was not even icquainted ; and Miss Chloe, however reltutaut she might be, now felt herself oblijcd to introduce Mr. Sinclair to her sister j "Mr. Sinclair!" exclaimed Lizzie, in surprise. "Can -this lie Mr. Sinclair?" Ernest did not conclude his visit quite as soon as ho expected that afternoon ; nay, he even acceptodau invitation to stay to tea and when he did retrfrn to his lodgings, it was quite ltito in the eveniu Weeks, months, agaiu passed away Sinclair seemed entirely to havo forgottcu his proposed tour, aul was still a constant visitor at tho Carringtons'. In spite of tho hints upon forwatduoss sho daily re ceived from hor older Misters, Lizzio always managed to appear nhen he was present and Sinclair who, blessed with penetration, lu time acquired an insight into the ma noeuvres of Miss Chloe, succeeded at length so well in convincing her by suudry well- timed hints, that he regarded Lizzio as a more child, that she jiogan to consider hor situation in his heart as completely secure. Aud now of an e'eaing, instead of re CHAPTER IV. LOVE COQUETHY. "Well, Mr. Siuclair," said Lizzie Car rington, as she one evening entered the parlor where he was sitting alone, "fate seems determined to persecute me '. Sis ter Jane has gone out with Henry, Chloe has tho tooth-ache, aud Mary is obliged to remain in the uursery with little Auna, who is not very well; so 1 have been depu ted your sole entertainer during the whole of this long evening a dreadful task, 1 can assure you, to one so young and inex perienced." Ernest laughed. "I do not see how I can assist you, un less I take up a line of march and thus ex triuatc you from so horrible a dilemma," he replied, yet without essaying to do as We proposed. "Oh, no, that would never do and as I am doomed to entertain you, I think 1 may as well be resigned., So I will look about and see if I can find anythiug for amusement, and you shall have your choice of everything that I discover." She walked toward the centre-table. Book after book was takeu up and then throwu down again with a dissatisfied air; at last seizing upon oue, she drew a chair to the table and began to turn over the leaves. "What absorbs your attention now?'' asked Siuclair. "Oh, nothing,'' she replied, laying the book aside; "I was only glancing ut Mrs Caudle's lectures. But perhaps you would like me to read you one, Jir. Sinclair." Oh, no, no!" exclaimed Eruest, play fully placing his hands over his cars, "not for the world would I imbibe a prejudice against matrimony. Indeed, to tell you the truth, I have takeu a vow never to lend car to any of Mrs. Caudle's domestic details." "Well, then, I'm sure 1 know not how I shall amuse you" aud she turned away iu pretended despair. 1 will tell you how I lnteud to amuso myself, if you will be seated," said Ernest, suiiliu"'. So Lizzie resumed her scat, and Ernest drew his chair nearer to her. "In the first place, I intend to scold you for being resolute in your determina tion of calling me Mr. Sinclair. Well, then, I will call you Eruest, if you wish it," sho replied, while the crim son mounted to her cheek "Cousin Er nest." And though he would fain have dispensed with any claim to couwmhij), Siuclair was obliged to content himself. "And in the next place, I am going to discover whether I should offeud you very much if I should -call you Lizzie dear Lizzie." And how Mr. Eruest Sinclair amused himself after that I will not take upou myself to repeat ; but certain it is, that night Lizzie Carrington retired to her chamber with the full consciousness that she was loved ! For a long time she re mained awake musing. Until that even ing sho had never deemed herself thought of as other than a child by Sinclair; till theu she had never taken the trouble to exauiiue her own heart, und now as she did so sho was surprised to find that it was no longer her own that bIio loved even as sho was beloved I Lizzio started, as she owned tho truth to herself. What would tho girls in school thiuk if they knew it ? Wouldn't they tcaze . her ? and Lizzie couldn't bear to be teazed ! Above all, what would sister Chloo and sister Jane say? Wouldn't they call her bold and pert, and tell her tbey wished they could iummer a seuse of propriety iuto her aud und . But pshaw ? how were duty to kuow anything of tho matter ? She wouldn't tell them no, she'd die first ! And thou the young gill's thoughts were turned upon Ernest and in a few min utes she had formed u pluu which bhc meant to carry out fully. If thou lovesl, hide thy love from him Whom thou dost worship ; do not let him know How dear he is : flirt like a bird before him, Lead him from tree to tree, Iroui flower to floWer( Till thou art wou" - murmured Lizzie. "Ves!" sho exclaim ed, delighted with the idea with which that quotation had inspired her, "I will do it I will turn coquette ; he shall not know that I care for him, till 1 thiuk prop er to confess it ; aud I oh, 1 will so teazo him, and he will only love me the more." And then she thought of some of sister Clary's friends who iu early youth had been noted coquettes. There was Mrs. Graham, who was now settled in life, with a handsome husband who thought the world of her aud Mrs. Hamilton aud Mrs. Lansing, aud half a dozen others; and why might not she do as they had done ? She did not kuow that Mrs. Gra ham's handsome husband was a weak- miuded, soulless being, who iu youth hud not possessed sufficient spirit to reseut his lady love's flirtatious, aud who was even now entirely ruled by his wife, living in a sumptuous dwelling of which he should have been master, yet where iu reulity he scarcely dared "With a peremptory tna Auerl the nose uriou hi face hia owu." She was not aware that Mrs. Lansing, in her luxurious home, pitied for tho early lover who had turned from her in disgust that the beautiful Mrs. Hamilton turn ed away with a sigh from the old man her husband, aud thought of a heart her folly FOE YOTJlfa MEU. He drink! How ominously that sen tence falls ! How we pause in converse tiou, and ejaculate "it's a pity !" How his mother hopes that he will not drink when he crows older, aud his sisters per suade themselves that it is only a few wild oatg that he it sowing. And yet old men shake their heads, aud feel sad aud gloomy when they speak of it ; for who ever stop ped aud did not at some time give way to temptation ? It id dangerous to trifle with pleasure. Each step that she leads us away from the path of rectitude, leaves us less desire to return. Each time that she induces us ' to deviate, we muet go a littlo further to obtain the same unjoymcnt. Even with increased experience we resolve to walk in the path of duty ; we follow it with juore difficulty, if we have once allowed ourselves to wander. Pleasure stauda at a gate ever open, aud sho invites us to enter her gardens. She tells us that we need not fear, for we cart return when we choose, SL calls to tho pilgrim, on the dusty highway of life, and, wayworn and weary, as he is, she invitci him to enter- She jioiqts him to men tint, arc agaiu upon the road j men who onc'-i wiled away sometime iu her dominium, but have now resumed their journey. IIj does not know the self-reproach and the weakness they felt on leaving her bowers, nor tho increased difficulty with which they tread the path of daily life. He wishes, and theu turns aud then looks in. He will enter for a little while. But ho is soon bewildered in enjoyment. Ilia seuses revel in the fragrance. He is on. enchanted ground. He is sure that he can return, and that he will return, after he has been a little further; yet with had brokeu aud of a mauly form that uow ; every step he feels le.-s desire to do so. Of what protit is it to him now, that the gato stands open ? As he wanders along, the uir becomes more und more exhilcr&tinjg aud the fruits more highly flavored. The breezes become warmer, tho fragrance is, more pungcut, und the flowers more aro matic. His senses are intoxicated, and liij desires become inflamed. Thu flowers that blossomed along his morning path, the little modest flowers that opened their meek eyes, sparkling with dew, aud smiled on him as he set out ou his journey, aro forgotten. The duties that he owes to himself, to his fellow-men, to his God, are all forgot teu; aud he goes restlessly for ward to enjoy hotter breezes, more stitnu- restcd beneath the sod. No ! had the kuowledge beeu her's Lizzie Carrington would, with a shudder, have dashed the yet untasted chalice from her lips ' Was it a wouder that from that even ing whenever Ernest Sinclair ventured to breathe forth u word of love, Lizzie re ceived it laughingly, though iu reality it suuk deep iu her heart ? Was it a won der that hhe delighted lu calling him cous in Ernest even after, in a most serious manner, he had requested hor to drop the title ? Ernest deemed it very strange that his attentions should be received so Irifling ly yet there wero momenta when, per haps forgetting her assumed charucter, Lizzie's glance would rest timidly and la"uK tt c oaw8- ean.cstly upou her lovcr-and those mo- VV,,at aTuil3 to l,im UuW lI,at the fi" rt mcuts were not forgottcu by him. j maius ever open ? One evening, mortified by tome light! Nut already tbe pleasures have be remark she had made, Ernest returned to Uun to faiI- Soi,W) stranQ influence is his lodgings with a heavy heart. As he numbing his scuscs. He fiuds apples walked along, the words of his friend Car- with w1 com. Hot winds are ringtou upon his first recognition of Lizzio I 'lering his flesh but he feels no wound.' recurred to his mind. "Tako care, Eruest, j of Ple:,suro is coming pain. Hs and do not lose your heart, for 1 forewarn you that she bids fair to be a most desper ate little flirt," seemed to souud once more in his ears. The mystery of her be haviour was explained young though sho was, Lizzie Carriugton was a coquette! Er-1 nest wondered that he had beeu blind so long, but he determined he would be so no louger. Poor Ernest ! It was a sad truth that ho had learned, and it drove the sleep from his eyes that night ; yet he had the strength of mind to make one resolu tion namely, that the morrow should dis cover his fate ; that he would then go to Lizzio and learn whether she really loved him nye, demand an answer, if she was again disposed to trifle. Aud if that an swer was not as ho wishod then, why theu ha he would start immediately for Europe and forgot her if ho could. CONCLUDED NEXT WEEK. iarLady II. Stanhopo records that Pitt had moro faith iu a man who jested easi ly, than in ono who spoke and looked grave and weighty ; for tho first moved by some spring of his own within ; but tho latter might bo only a buckram cover well stuf fed with other's wisdom. &3r Have a care of ovil thoughts. Oh, the mischief they have done iu the world ! Bad thoughts oomo first, bad words follow after, nod bad deeds briug np the lose Strive ngaiust them. Watoh against them. Thej prepare tho way for the enemy. has reathed the marshes where the garden of Pleasuro borders on ttie valley and shadow of death, and he would fain take refuge iu oblivion. Ylv sits down under the shade of the Aconite, aud binds his throbbing temples with the wreaths of its dull foliage. The night of despair is fast closing in upou him. Darkness, like a blaukct, shuts out the light of heaven, and the trembling madness fires his brain. Slimy serpents are in attendance upou him. They glide around noiselessly, and lull him in drowsy folds. fsT "Sileuce is often au answer," say un Arabic proverb. How true it is, that when the tongue of malice or anger fails to provoke a reply, it reluctantly sheaths itself in chagrin and shame. In many ca ses no reply can be more powerful than si lence. There are men you cannot touch more acutely than by letting them alono most severely, as Theodore Hook expreft es it, when they vilify you. JtlTA man will be what his most cher ished feelings are. If ho encourage a co ble generosity, every feeling will bo tnrkh- cd by it ; if he nurse bitter and envenom ed thoughts, hia own spirit will absorb the poison ; and he will crawl among nice as a burnished adder, whose life is misthicf, and whose ernmd is doutJv. BShut y ut eyes nt &e fault of your ; neighbor,- and open ihrm very wide to j jour on I