The ladies' garland. [volume], August 05, 1826, Image 1

About The ladies' garland. [volume] (Harpers-Ferry, Va. [W. Va.]) 1824-1828

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Zi)c HaJics’ ®r«rlanH,
HARPERS-rERRY, VIRGINIA, AUGUST 5, 1826.
VOX.. 3
NO. 26
El'RLlSim) EVERT SATCtlRAT EVENING
I’.Y JOHN S. GAI.LAIIKR,
. It Ike Office of the Virginia Free Press.
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THE HEPOSZTOHY.
THS INDIAN ORPHAN.
(cONCI.t-DEll. )
Tin' voyage appeared short, fori had nothing
i i anticipate, and the glories of the ocean suited
toy feeling'. 1 have looked on the fare of Na
<u: a with love and with won ler ; but never have
j had that intense communion with her beauties
Teh I have had at sea. At last the while
’ill's of England came in sight; they were
oailed with a shout of delight; it had no echo
■ o my heart, llut it was when we arrived in
port that 1 felt more than ever how lonely I was:
die whole ship was bustle and confusion, and
uappincss; numbers were every moment crowd
tog tbe deck—there was the affectionate wel
oino. the cordial embrace, words of tenderness,
alii! tenderer tears ; all were agitation, anxiety,
"i.id delight. There was one group in particu
tr, a sailor whose little hoy was so grown that
lie did not at first recognize him—the delight of
the child, two inches taller with pleasure—the
naif affection, half pride, glowing in the fresh
,-dand complexion of the mother—every kindly
pulse of the heart sympathized w ith them. I
fell doubly an orphan as they left the deck. At
his moment a young man addressed me, and
announced himself as the son of Mrs. Audley,
'he lady with whom I was henceforth to live,
and led me to the boat which waited at the side
of the vessel; and a short journey brought usto
Clifton and the cottage where Mrs. Audley re
sided. How vividly the thoughts and feelings
which crowded that night about my pillow rise
upon my memory! I think it is not saving too
much of that natural instinct which attracts us
to one person and repels us from another, when
1 call it infallible. There is truth and certainty
n our first impression; we arc so much the
creatures of habit, so much governed in our
opinions by the opinions of others, we so rarely
begin to think till our thoughts are already bias
ed. that our intuitive perception of good and
evil, and consequently of friend and foe, is ut
terly neglected. If, in forming our attachments,
instead of repeating what we havo heard, we
recalled our feelings when we first tnet, there
".-1 iId he fewer complaints than are now ofdis
appointed expectations. First impressions are
natural monitors, and nature is a true guide.
My impressions were delightful—I slept con
tented and confiding ; and my spirits next
day were worthy of the itnely morning that
aroused them.
Mrs. Audley's cottage, the landscape, and
the sky, were altogether English: the white
walls, the green blinds, the open-sash windows,
the upper ones hung round with the thick jes
samine that had grown tip to the roof, the lower
ones into which the rose tree looked ; the blinds
half way down, just showing the cluster of red
roses and nothing more, though they completely
admitted the air. loaded with the breath of the
mignonette; while the eyes felt relieved by the
green and beautiful, but dim light which they
threw over the room. It was like enchantment
to step from the cord and shadowy parlour into
the garden with its thousand colours, the beds
covered with annuals, those rainbows of the
spring, the (rudders rose, the laburnums, mines
of silver and gold; the fine green turf; but
nothing struck me so much as, beneath the
shade of an old beech tree, a bank entirely cov
ered with violets. It may seem fanciful, hut
to me the violet is the very emblem of woman's
love; it springs up in secret; it hides its per
fume even when gathered ; how timidly its deep
blue leaves bend on their slight stem! The re
semblance maybe carried yet further—woman's
love is but beautiful in its purity ; let the hot
breath of passion once sully it, and its beauty
is departed—thus as the summer advances, the
violet loses its fragrance; June comes, but its
odours are fled—the heart too has its June; the
flower may remain, but its fragrance is gone
forever. Flowers are the interpreters of love
in India, painting in the most vivid but in the
softest colours, speaking in the sweetest sigh?:
while each blossom that fades is a mournful re
membrancer either of blighted hopes or depart
ed pleasures. 1 would give my love violets;
the rose has too much display. “J’admire les
roses inais je m'attendris sur les violettes.” i
The lose is beauty—the violet tenderness.
And the country round was so placidly delight
ful— I had been used to the. sweeping shadows
of gigantic trees, to oceans of verdure, to the
wide and magnificent Ganges ; but tlie land
scape here came with a quiet and feeling of
contentment on the heart. 1 remember so well 1
the first time 1 ever walked on the Downs! !
The day had been showry and the sky was just
beginning to clear: the dark gloomy volumes
in which the tempest was rolling away were '
but little removed irmn clouds of transparent
whiteness, and between, like intervals of still
enjoyment amid the hopes and fears of life,
gleamed forth the deep blue of the horizon.—
Faintly coloured like a dream of bliss, a ball
formed rainbow hung on tbe departing storm,
as fearful of yet giving promise of peace.—
Every thing around was in that state of tremu
lous repose, which succeeds a short and violent
rain. The long shadows and double brilliancy
of the light from reflecting rain drops,contrasted
in (he, scenery, like sorrow and joy succeeding
tears. Never could the banks of the Avon
have been seen to a greater advantage. On one
side of the river rose rocks totally hare, hut oi
every colour and every form; on the other
side hanks equally high were covered with trees
in their thick foliage ; the one Nature’s stupen
dous fortress.the other her magnificent pavilion
of leaves. One or two uncovered masses ap
peared like the lingering loot prints of desola
tion ; but in general where the statelier trees
had not taken root, the soil was luxuriantly'
covered with heath and the golden blossomed
furze. On the left dew and sunshine seemed
wholly to have lull' n m vain : riven in cvcrv
direction, tlie rocks had assumed a thousand
different shapes, in which tlie eve. might trap*
or fancy it traced, every variety of ruin, spin
or turret,—the mouldering battlement, the fall
ing tower. Here and there a solitary brand) e
had taken root, almost as hare and desolate as
the spot where it grew. The contrast between
the hanks was like prosperity and adversity. 1
think if ever any body was happy. I was, for tie
next two years. It is strange, though true, that
the happiest part of our life is the shortest n
detail. We dwell on the tempest that wreekeo'
the Hood that overwhelmed—hut we pass ovi
in silence the numerous days we have -pent in
summer and sunshine.
Mrs. Audley was to me a mother, and F.n
ward and I loved eaeh other with all the deep
luxury of love and youth. It was luxury, for it
was unconscious. Love is not happiness : hopi -
pleasure, delicious and passionate moments > .
rapture—all these belong to love, but not to
happiness. Its season of enjoy meet is when it
existence is unknown, when tear has nut agi
tated, hope lias not expanded the. ilowei hut r.
opens to fade, and jealousy and disappointment
are alike unfeared, unf it. The heart is am
mated by a secret music. Like the Arabian
prince, who lived amid melody, perfume, beau
ty, and (lowers, till he rashly penetrated tin
forbidden chamber, so. when the first sensation',
of love are analysed and his mystery displayed
his least (rouble, his most alluring dream, is pa- t
for ever Edward was strikingly handsome x