Newspaper Page Text
THE GEORGIA''JOURNAL-
II PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY
feteuson tiiweatt,
PROPRIETOR,
AT tHREK dollars l'F.n annum, in advance.
Or FOUR Dollart at the end of the fear.
- , H bMfipOon will Ini rwcnivml f.r l,a. than a vaar, Mr will anv I
,^4, bo diacnnimunj aalll oil nrr««r«( ra ara-f.i,l |
rjT p t|wr W H| not bo root to any poraon out of tbo Htata, Mill tbA,
I abaerlptloa moony la paid in ndvanro or aatiafbctory roforance (Ivan. I
* adveetiskmen in inaertud it lh« uiail rate*. i
rrM I, Bale* of LAND, by Atlimmtfrstors, Rxecslors, or Guar-:
required. Uy law, to bo hold on thn flr*t Tuesday in |bo I
J ,«th ketweea the houmofton in 111* foronoon and three la the at- ]
I mtioMi at the Oourt*hou*e ( in tlia county in which (he property i-J
•itaated. Notice of thorn aaloa mu»t bo given in a public gusetle SIX •
yi DUB provion* to the tiny of vale.
■mUa of NEGROK8 raiut be nt a public auction, on the flrit Tuer-
. fghf, HHintli, between the usual hour* of ••!«, at the place of pub-
| J* in the county whorethe lottori tt*«taroentary. of AdniniMra
Guardianihin, mar have boon granted, Brat firing SIXTV
I aiTI untlec thereof, in one of the public gasetteaof this Bute, and al
Be da*r of th« Court-houao, where rucIi anlee are to be held.
Netke far the sale of I'rrtonal Property, muat bogireu in like man-
per, FORTY days preriou* to the day of sale.
(folire to the Debtor* and Creditor* of au Eitato must be publiahed
|Uf KOK.TY day*.
Mntice that application will be mndn to the Court of Ordinary foi
u r* to*ell LAND, mu.t Ini publiahed for FOUR MONTHS.
Metwe for leave to fell NF.OROF.S, mu»t he publiahed fbr FOUR
I MONTHS, before any order absolute ahali bo made thereon by the
j C V|J haciaea* of thi> kind rontlnue* to receive prompt attention at the
Oflke of the GEORGIA JOURNAL.
I ■ eWTTANCKS HY MAIL — 111 A poatnuter may encloae money
ia a letter to the publisher of n lirwspnper, to pay tbo subscription of a
third nerioa, and frank the letter, if writtonby himself.”—time* Ken
I'Uf.M.Q.
J. H. STEELE ii H. TIIWEATT. Editors.
MII.LEDGEVILLE, TU ESDAY, APRIL 4, 1843.
VOIa. XXXIV—NO- 27.
MISCELLANEOUS.
POETICAL.
LOVE AT FIRST BIGHT.
BY BULWER.
Into my heart n silent look
Flashed from ihine car«less «yes,
And tvhat before wnn shndow.took
The light of summer skies.
The firat-horn Love was on the look ;
The Venus rose froir* out ofiho deep
Of those inspiring eyes.
My life, like some lone, solemn spot
A spirit passes o’er.
Grew instinct with a glory not
In earth or heaven before.
Sweet trouble stir rod the haunted spot,
And s hook the loaves of every thought ;
Thy presence wandered o’er!
My being yearned, and crept to thine,
As if in times of yore,
Thy soul had been n part of mine,
Which claimed, it back once more.
Thy very self no longer thine,
But merged in that delicious life,
Which inado us one of yore!
There bloomed beside thee forms as fair,
There murmured tones os sweet,
But round ihse breathed th* enchanted air,
’Twns life and death to meet.
And henceforth, thou alone werl fair,
And, though the stars had sung for joy,
Thy whisper only sweet.
THE LADY CLARA*
SONG.
• Why Is the Rose most Bcnutiftil f
BY DAVID PAUL BROWN.
Why is the rone most beautiful
Among the flowers tlint bloom.
Where lily, daisy, daffodil,
All mingle their perfume ?
Or jowell’d with the morning dews, .
She Bputrklea in the suuT
The colors of the violet
Are not less pure or bright;
The dews upon her azure cheek,
Resemble stars by night.
And yet more vried, nre the tints
The gorgeous dahlia shows—
Still, is the Rose most beautiful,
Still, loveliebt is the Rose.
But 'tis not from the outward charms
That captivate the eye,
That thus in grove and bower she reigns
In peerless majesty.
The magic that sustains her power,
So innate, secret, sute,
There's many a gayer prouder flower,
But ah, not one so pure.
Not one so fragrant in its prime,
Not one, whose balmy breath <
Survives like Iter’s the touch of Time,
Ana triumphs over Death.
In bud—in bloom, or in decay,
That sacred charm remains*.
Bruised .broken, trampled under foot,
But mill iliat charm retains.
Imparts her fragrance to the blow,
'1 hat robs her of her bloom;
In life is redolent of sweets—
In death, outluste the tomb.
By Virtue, to the beautiful,
Tito c hie test charm is given,
And when external grace decays,
The soul still breathes of Heaven.
From the Charleston Courier.
THE COMET AGAIN?
An extravagant use has been made of the poetic license at
I |he conclusion of the following verses, where it is assumed
I that stars are brought down as souls are borne up by the
power of spiritual magnetism. That in obedience to this
principle , the lo*tpleiad left her sisters in the aky, to become
••brilliant witness to its truth. Rhymes, indeed have as ma-
1 njr difficulties about boundary lines, as reasoners, and often
I quarrel with common sense for encroachments on legitimate
I borders. A reward will therefore be given, of the finest pearl
j in the coronet of poetry, to any of the Woodbridges, Willards
I Mitchells,Olneys, dec., who will declare the proper latitude
j of the land of fancy.
In her parlor one evening, astronomy sat,
Iu dishabille, quite at her ease,
Engaged with the muses, in classical chat,
About fame and her fuir devotees.
Before them lav Somerville’s volume sublime,
Where thoughts, resplendent as stunt,
Sparkle out from the soul of a daughter of time,
As she bounds o’er the firmament’s bars.
They proposed to read over some passages then.
And make extracts (or memory from it;
But scarcely had each of them taken a pen,
When there, unannounced, stood a Comet!
Recovering first from her torrihle fright,
Uraiiiu glanced down nt liar robe,
And said, Imd she dreamed on so rainy a night
Such a guest would have honored her glohe,
Her heavenly wardrobe afforded,
E’en such nssfiR worn on her throne ia Italia,
Whose apleudor uli hunts have recorded.
How much (thought the Comet) these nymphsofthe skies
Resonibla the belles of the earth !
Alike they both tinsel and finery prise,
But to neatness attach little worth.
The hostess, suspecting, with feminine tact,
That her visiter meant to remain,
Declared her state-chambers with stare were so packed,
Not unother admission could gain.
Compose yourself, lady, replied the bold stranger,
The wildest night-errant above,
Can sleep quite us wall in Fegasus’s manger,
As on buds lined with down from the dove.
Desisting at last from all shallow excuses
For house.hold disorder and dress,
With tears iu her eyes she tin* theme introduces,
That e’er must her feelings distress.
Oh say! t
i give anv tidines whatever
i fl«®
U0*
Of a beuuti/ul Pleiad of n
vroin a mother’s embrace will the dssliuies sever
A spirit su puro and divine ?
Oh! tell inn the lost one in exile is shining,
Though fur from my presence removed;
No more will I weep, or iixlulce iu repining,
If lileis yet spared ray beloved.
The Comet related his meeting one day
With n Pleiad,whose tremulous light
oncined bound some invisible hand to obey,
That to Earth was directing its flight.
The star of thy heart which thou mourncat as dead,
Thus fell to the valley of tears .
Deep mysteries soon to’ tha world shall be read,
By the light which from hcav’u it bears.
And there is a magnet of truth in the skies,
That rertrttly a bn 11 ucl on the soul;
''Onipelliug it higher and higher to rise,
Till it reach immortality’s goal. M.
SIMPLE AFFINITY.
Homo water nod oil
One day had n broil
As down on a glass they were dropping,
And would nut unite,
t But continued to fight,
Without any prospect of stopping. *
Home petirlnsh o’orheard,
Aud ss quick ns a word,
Jumped into the moist of the clashing,
When nil three agreed.
And united with speed,
And soap was cieatcd for washing.
BY J. II. DANA.
My friend llcaumont wui the descendant of one
of tlie oldest and proudest fumilics of England, his
forefathers having fought at Cressy, Poictiers, and
fornught 1 know.nt Hastings itself. He could
trace hi - descent from imo silk nud ermine-clad
earl to unother,and then thro’a long succession of
Htecl clad barons, up to a certain Ilolla Beaumont,
of Normandy ; who, in his turn, had a whole ar-
my of sea-kings, or ancestors, at his hack. If
blood, thereforu, could do anything for a man, Beau
mont w us charged to the brim with it. But, alack
u duy ! blood will nut pul meat in one's mouth ;
and so Dick knew to Ins cost. The earldom—
never very rich at the best—had been growing
poorer and poorar through a long scries of gonern.
lions, liko an old spinster becoming thinner and
moro angular with every year; and now the esta
tes scarcely afforded a docent competence to tho
proud elder brother of Dick, while Dick himself
was left with a most “beggarly account of empty
boxes.” But if he was poor, ho was philosophic ;
and care never caught him with a wry mouth. His
chuructar, however, will dcvelopo itself in tho
course of iny story. I will only premise, that 1
was, at this time, in London, aud that was drawing
toward the close of the season. Wo met at tho
dour of my rooms, when Dick, linking his arm in
mine, injhis [familiar way. uccepted my invitation
to spend an hour over a flask of Sillery.
•• Are you going duwn to Arlford Castle 1”
said I; ‘iny invitation was so warmly given that
I cannot resist it. 1 understand that you too were
invited ?”
“So I am, but don’t think I shall go, 1 know
Arlford Castle is the greatest boro of my life.—
1 huve never been there and never intend to go.”
“Not intend to go to Arlford- -why, I should
think the fame of Lady Clara’s beauty would carry
you thero at thu first chance. Faith, my dear fel
low, she is said to be a perfec t Juno.”
Very possibly,but it is the Lady Clara who keeps
me away. You seem surprised, and I will ex-
plain. You know the custom here—in your re
publican land it may be different—to trude birth in
matrimony. Well, my father und the father of
Lady Clara were intimate at school. But Lord
Sealorth’s poerage only dated back lu the Rcvolu.
lion, while ours was as old as the Norman Con
quest. Tho Seaforlh estates, however, are very
extensive, und the dower of the duughter greater
than the whole wealth of our earldom. So. when
Lady Clara first saw light, a few years after my
birth, it was arranged that she and I should bo
married. Things wont on very swimmingly, as
the utd folks tho’i, until a few years ago, when my
parent died and 1 began to think for myself.—
Then it struck me that this being traded away
like u horse was incompatible with my manhood,
however compatible it might be with ancient blood,
for you must know that 1 am on that subject a bit
of a democrat. 1 foreswore Arlford Castle, and
could never be coaxed or driven thero. When 1
grew up, however, and began to feel the value of
money—that ‘do nob/s cum' of civilized life—my
resolution began to stagger, and would have,| per
haps, given way, had not an incident occurred
which put all thoughts of Lady Clara to flight,
“It was at a country ball, when I was just 20,
that I met the most boautiful of creatures, a dark
haired, ebon eyed, goddcss-like woman. 1 call
her woman, because,though two years younger
than myself, she was even then no longer a girl. If
I live to tho ago of Molhusuluh I shall never forget
those liquid eyes, that divine form, or the melodi
ous music of her tongue. I sought and obtained
an introduction. She w as a Miss Cleveland—
doubtless from the uumo lof the descendant of sotno
honest burgher. My lordly elder brother would
have sneered at her, but what cared 1 for aristo
cratic ancestry ?—for, to tell the truth, our titled
forefathers were no better than robbers, and de.
served to be hung, while the same despised
burghers were the only honest inen in the land.—
I danced with her, promenaded with her, and hung
round her the whole evening. In a word, I was
entranced, and, to cut a long story short, expet icnc-
ed, for the first time, what lovo really is. There
is n world of romance in me—if ono will go deep
enough to find it, therefore, you will not ho surpris
ed when I tell you that, from that hour to this, tho’
I have never seen Miss Cleveland since, her image
has been uppermost in mv thoughts. Shu passud
awny like a dream from that assembly, and no ono
knew whence she came or whither sho was going.
All I could learn was, she stepped in a travelling
carriage nt one of the hotels, ond hearing of the
ball, look a whim to stay. Early tho noxt morn,
ing, and hours before we were out of our beds, she
re-conmienccd her journey, with no travelling
companions except the maid, and an old gentleman
who had chaperoned her to the Lull. Now there’s
a romance in real life for you.”
1 had long suspected the existence of a secret
passion for some unknown lady in Dick’s bruust,
so I was not as much surprised us 1 otherwise
would have been.
“Bat huve you never found any clue to tilts mys .
terious Indy.lovo ?”
‘iNevcf—and thore’s the deuce of it. I hnve
hunted high and low, and been in almost every
county of England, but no Miss Cleveland can I
find, who answers to |my description. 1 begin to
suspect she is an American, and you 1 must nut be
surprised if, one of these days, I cross the Atlantic
in search of her."
“I should give up the chaso, especially with
Lady Clara Arlford in the prospective. Como—
go down to tho Castle with me—you haven’t seen
her since you both were children, and, from all 1
hear, sho has grown up a perfect goddess. Who
knowxbut she may drive this plcbian Miss Cleveland
out of your head J"
“Her dower would certainly be comfortable,”
said Dick, with a shrug. “ I hate a profession,
hut must soon do something, or starvo. But then 1
dislike marrying an heiress.”
“But perhaps Lady Clara recollects you only
too well for her own peace. They say sho has
refused a score of suitors.”
“I confess a wish to see her, though 1 don’t want
her to see me—but there’s the boro.",
“Ah 11 have it,” 1 said after a minute’s t'no’t —
“thero is nn it.n in the village near the Castle,
witere you can stay disguised—say as a travelling
artist, for you sketch well, and the scenery about
Arlford is celebrated for its picturesque character.
Follow mo down, ur.d trust me to give you an op
portunity to sue Lady Clara.”
Dick paused for a minute in deep thought, and
then looking up, exclaimed :—
“Faith, I'll tako your advico. There’s a Lit
of romance in your plan that commends it to iny
imagination. When will you start ?
"On Monday.”
"Then I’ll preredo you down so ns to prevent
suspicion. 1 shall leave town to morrow,” said
he with his usual decision of character, when once
aroused.
I heard no more of Dick until 1 ronchod Arlford
Castle. The company was large und select com-
prising some of must beautiful women in England,
hut among them the Lady Clura shore preeminent.
All that 1 hoard ot her loveliness win fur surpassed
bv the reality. Her person was tali and queenly,
perhaps too much inclined to tn Lon point, hut
still exquisitely graceful, and having a majesty
that overawed the senses: And then her eyes !—
dark, full und lustrous, they had in them, the apell
of a sybil. Never had a woman approached ao
so nigh to iny standard of lordly beauty, and I
wished a dozen times every half hour that my
friend Dick could see hur. 1 felt convinced that
ho was moro thun mortal if he did not at pnee for
get Miss Cleveland, und bow at the shrine of the
Lady Clara.
"Confound the fellow.” 1 said to myself, ‘here is
a goddess with a fortune ut his feet, and he goes
whining through the country after some unknown
and wandering damsel, who may for all he knows,
he married ero this, to somo duil, common place
soap chandler. But we’ll see what cun be done in
the way of u cure.”
Two days had elupsed before I thought it safe to
visit the little inn,und there, sure enough, wss
Dick, tricked out in a disguise through which his
own parents could scarcely have detected him.—
I followed him up stairs into his room, and when
tho door was locked wo mutually reluled our ad-
ventures. I spoke of the Ludy.Clara in enthusioatic
terms.
'Cant we briug this farce to a close soon,” said
Dick, yawning, “for I’m becoming deucedly tired
of being cooped up here, like a sheep for tne slaugh
ter ; or trudging over rocks and through copses,
with a sketch bouk. to keep up my character. The
first of September will be here to-morrow, and
there is prime shooting on my brother’s preserves,
but if I loiter here much longer, I shall lose much
of the sport. The landlady, too, begins to look
suspicious, and lias once or twice given me a look
that said, as plainly as looks could say, that I wus
loo fastidious tor a travelling artist.”
“Well,” said I, ‘'suppose we try it now.—Come
with me to the castle. We’ll loiter about as if
to pick out a good moonlight view, and who knows
but we may cutch a glimpso of the Lady Clara.”,
“Done,” said Dick ; aad we started.
The Castle lay in deep shadow as wo approach
ed it, and as the moonlight silvered the old gothic
towers and tipped the obuiting edges of the carved
wotk that everywhere adorned the noble pile, the
scene presented to the eye was one that reminded
one of the enchanted pulaces of the Arabian
Nights. We stopped us if by common impulse, to
gazo on the spectacle —Suddenly the figure of a
lady appeared in an open gallery above us. where
she stood, for some minutes, totally unconscious of
our vicinity, for we| wero hidden under the sha-
dow of a huge oak that threw its thick foliage far
and wide over us.
Tile moon was sailing high in Heaven, and on
that bright luminary thu lady gazed as if in rapt
udmirution. Tho first glance at the fair appari
tion assured me it was the Lady Clara ; and never
did she appear more lovely. Attired in a magni
ficent robu of veivut; with her hair falling in lux
uriant tresses down her neck, and her snowy and
rounded shoulders seeming whiter than driven
snow in the moonlight, she looked a divinity, hold
ing communion with upturned eyes, with a sister
divinity of the skies. She wore a string of pearls
around her neck, and a white ruse nestling in Iter
liusom—fit typos of her maiden purity. 1 was so
entranced by the sight thut for a minute I had for-
gotten my companion, when 1 felt him nervously
clutch my arm. 1 looked around.
"Heavens ! how magnificent—it is—it is—I
have found her,” he said, agitatedly:
“Found who 1”
“Miss Cleveland. Isn’t she a superb creature.
By Goerge, the Lady Clara, with her dower, ,inuy
go to the dogs.”
I burst into uncontrollable laughter, for if a
world Imd been the prico of restraint, I could not
Imvu refrained. Tho fair apparition disappeared
in an instant.
Confound you,’ said Dick, half angrily, “what
makes you so nterry? You have frightened a-
way my Sultana.’’
Merry,” said I, “why here you’ve been avoid,
ing the Lady Clara for years, und searching all
England for Miss Cleveland, when they’re but one
und tho same parson, and again I laughed until the
tears ran out of my eyes.
Dick gazed at mo in blank wonder. Never did
n poor fellow look moro like a fool. This oniy
increased my tnilh, und ut length Dick joined in it
as heartly as myself, capering abou: in his oxtra-
vagent joy until 1 almost begun to think his wits
were deranged.
T IlE TORY LOVElt, ar Love nod Patriotism,
A Tale of the Battle of Brandywine.
BY raoFESSOR INGRAM.
Tho noxt day a post chaise anti four dashed
through the park of Alford Castle, and my friend
Dick paid his first visit since hoy hood to thu Lady
Clara. Somu litllo surprise wus t iult, though not
evinced at his visit, arid the lady herself betrayed
decided embarrassment. Dick prospered wonder
fully in his wooing, and the next summer lie led to
the altar tile Lady Clara.
It was not until after his marriage that his brido
explained to him the little plot connected with her
assumption of tho name of Miss Cleveland. Sho
was travelling, with her father, from Arlfork Cas
tle to London, when sho heard of the county ball,
and of Dick’s intended preseunce. Piqued at his
studied neglect of iter, sha rusolved to visit the
assembly under an assumed name. This was
easily alluded. The result i« known. But alus !
in striving to win Dick, the Lady Ciara lost her
own heart. Delicacy forbade her afterwards to
reveal her disguise ; und she n as compelled tn
trust to accident. Bui years elapsed, as we huve
seen, before sho again met her lover.
Tlie Lady Clara is now a matron of thirty, ond
the lust steamer informs me that Dick has fallen
heir to tlie earldom, his elder brother having died
during the Queen’s visit lo Scotland.—Lucky !—
wasn’t lie !— Worldly of Fashion.
Tub Dangers or the Gambling Table.—Per-
haps the must unhappy event that can bela! a per
son who visits a gaming table fur the first time is,
thut lie should retire front it a winner. Thero
seems so little reason why thut which has already
been done should not witti equal facility be repeat
ed, that it is all but a certainty that the fortunate
player will make the uttumpt. Two gentlemen
trolled one night into u Paris gaming house, nei
ther of them being players, and intent, therefore,
only on gratifying an idle curiosity. One of them
after looking on for some time, threw out a bait to
Lady Fortune for three or lour Napoleons. Sho
was kind ; and in less thuu half an hour his pock
ets were crammed with gold. Ho wisely resolved
to march oil* with tiio spoil, and with that laudable | pouring in the woods,
intention he asked tlie dealer to exchange his gold
for notes. After tuceiving 4,odd francs in paper
there sttil remained three unlucky Napoleons.
‘Let’s see what I can do with these,’ cried the pos
sessor. lie tried and lost them.—That was pro
vokitig ! Resotved lo recover them, he changed
one of his notes—then number ; and in loss than
ten minutes he loll tho room without a franc in his
purse. Reflecting on the ditiicultv of leaving the
gaming table a winner, lie never pluyed again.
On the outskirts of the village of Newurk, in
D olaware, stood at the time of our story, a neat
ft trm cottage, with a majestic elm growing before
it sdoor. In the distance, over tho fields and wood.
It tnds, could he seen tho spires of tho town and the
8 ilvery glimpse of the river Delaware, with u group
0 f vessels of war, miohorcd full throe longues off.
*1 ?he cottage stood a little back from the dust of me
1 requentlv travelled road, with a green sward he.
I ween. It had an inviting nppenrancoof comfort,
o.nd never failed to attract tho eye of tho passing
t ravcller.
The sun was near silling, one pleasant nfternnon
in September, 1777, when a young man, half in
uniform, half in citizen’s dress, como out of the
■cottage door, followed by a young and interesting
girl, who was clinging to Itis arm. and evidently in
■earnest entreaty with him. He was tall and hand,
some, though suubrowned, and boro tho appearance
of a young farmer. Sho was a rustic too, in her
■dross, but her fnco was very fair and beautiful, and
Inar manners refinud above the condition to which
»he seemed to belong. Tears wore in her large
blue eyes, and one of her hands clasped his, while
tilie other lay upon his shoulder.
‘Why will you go, dear George, into this dread,
ful contest ? To-morrow you may be brought home
lo me a mangled corpse ! Oh ! fearful, fearful!
Say you will not go, and fight aguiust your own
country ! This is worst of all.’
* I am a loyal King’s mnn, Annette, and if 1 figh:
it nt ust bo on his side. The people are rebels, and
will yet ho put down, and heads will soon fiy
frot n tho scuffuld liko wheat heads beneath the
aid tie.’
• No, never! The cause is tt right one—a holy
one, George, and heaven will prosper it,’ site an*
swe rod with enthusiasm. ‘1 am grieved that one 1
so d .early love—to whom my troth was plighted be.
fori i this quarrel broke out; and tory und rebel
we re uukown, should now he going forth, armed,
to j;oin the force of my and his country, ngninst
his own brethren. If we be wrong, yet we are
your kindred—your neighbors—und this should ut
ter your sympathies with us, at least.’
You need not speak, dear Annette. I am re-
solved in the approaching battle to draw tny sivord
fo r my King. Cuniwullis and Howo are now with
in u few leagues, marching on—Washington and
his: forces havo token ground to oppose Itis passage
of tha Brandywine—and to-morrow tlie bat
tle will take plaea, and Philadelphia he in our
ho.nds.’
•The maiden was silent for an instant with iter
face hid—ut length she spoke, and said grave-
!y.’
‘Dear George, I feel as if I was called upon to
s aerifies my love for you to iny country’s honor ?
I low can 1 love iny bleeding country, aud ut the
i .amc time him whose sword is ready topierco its
oosorrr Turn, for my sake, George, and hi
American iu heart, ns you are by birth, and us you
should bo in honor.’
* You need not urgo me Annette,’ said the young
man, impatiently : ‘I will never draw my sword iu
favor of a rebel cause.*
‘Be it so, and I pledge mvsclf never to givo niy
Love to a traitor,'answered the maiden, with spirit.
• Thus perish the troth that had been plighted to ono
who has proved fulse to himself and his country !’
And thus speaking, the spirited girl took from her
finger her betrothal ring, and cast it at his feet.
The young torv lover looked upon her with sur*
j arise aud auger, which, as he saw her re-entering
t he dwelling with u resolute step without even cas-
i.ing a glance upon him, instantly changed into on
of entreaty.
‘Stay, Annette, do not leave me thus. You talk
not surely iu earnest. Come back and lot mo argue
Svith thee. II you cun thus idly break your troth,
1. love you too well to do so myself.’
‘You lovo mo, George Lee !’ she repealed, with
scorn ; ‘you love me ! when you ore now ready to
go forth and draw your weapon and aim your rill
^at the hearts of iny father und brother, who are in
the ranks of Washington, ready to do and to din
for their country ! (Jut upon such lovo ! I wil
huve none of it! Go, traitor to love and to honor!
fight lor thy tyrant King George, and be bis slave
as lie is thy muster.’
With these spirited words, tlie young girl enter
ed tho house and closed tho inner door ; thus shut
ting out all further speech with her unworthy and
recreant lover. The young volunteer of toryism
stood for a moment looking both mortified and an
gry, and happening to see the ring at his feet, in
the sudden und hitler feeling of tho moment he
ground it into the earth with his iron heel.
•Yes, let it und her perish if they will. I am a
fool to love a rebel’s daughter, and a rebel’s sis
ter !’
Thus speaking, be strode moodily to the elm he-
fore the door, where his caparisoned horse was
standing, und vaulted into tho saddle spurred at
full speed away in tho direction of the British ar-
The following day, the country for miles around
the cottage was echoing with artillery and the roar
of muskuliy* Two conflicting armies were enga
ged iu deadly contest, closo at hand, and in the
scene of death and horror, Annette had a father, a
brother, and—shall we say it ?—a lover ; ior
though her patriotic feelings made her cast him olF,
her uflection still reiaiucd his image in her huurt.
On ull sides columns were charging, engaging, re.
treating, and still came in the direction of the road
that led past the cotluge.
Annette was part of tho time fearfully watching
the clouds of smoke thut marked the progress of
the combatants, and purt of the time on her knees
in prayer for those she loved—and was George Lee
excluded from that petition 1 Let each maiden’s
own heart answer.
Near and nearer came the sound of artillery, and
tho roar of the battle ! Sho stood with her aged
mother ana gathered nieghbors, upon the green
beneath the elm, in painful expectation. Tiie
smoke of the battle field rolled onward, and now
they could hour the shouts of the soldiers in the
fignt. Their position commanded a view of a mile
along the road, and soon they beheld scattering
troops flying across it, at its extremity, nnd disap.
Then came a squadron of
Good Taste.—Au old bachelor had a roughly
bound book, which he ottered to lend to n couple of
lady visitors. They took it, examined its content,
uiui declared that they did not like it at all.
lie craftily took the book tn a binder’s and had
pretty covers put upon it. He then sent it to the
same ladies, who read it through, and declared
themselves delighted with it!
Those w ho drink spirits for sickness, hnve this
advantage, that they never will be well, and can,
therefore, always have a sutticiont excuse for taking
a swig ut the bottle.
horse, broken and retreating; and then artillery
drawn iu full gallop, came into the road. The
American flag flow from stalls stuck in the gun
carriages, and Annette knew that her countrymen
wero defeated. Louder ond more fearful now
grew the upiour of the battle beyond the wood, and
regiment after regiment, broken and terrified, fill,
ed tho road and were retreating along it towards
Chester, and passed tho cottage. Annette’s anx
iety for her countrymen, and for her father nnd
brother, would nut let her quit her post and the tide
of buttle came rolling past her—a terrific specta
cle ! The dragoons galloped by, each horseman
riding b)- himself, with his reins thrown upon his
saddle how ; then enme tho artillery thundering
along, followed by a multitude of soldiers without
order, fiving at tho top of their speed.
‘ Oh, shumc, shame •' she cried with hot tears in
her eyes, ‘Oh ! that I were a man, aud in the sad.
die, methiiik* my single arm would retrieve the
day ! Where is Washington ?—lie certainly cun*
not fly !
As she spoke,sho heard on her right, down the
road, a ioud commanding voice, calling on tho re
treating men to rally! Sho turned and beheld
Washington himself, who hearing of tho giving
way of the right wing, hud come up at tho head of
u regiment to sustain it. His voice and presence
now instilled life into the flying soldiery, and they
4oou rallied in tho road, and presented a front to
tho columns of British that were pursuing—Gen.
oral Howe, seeing this demonstration of resistance,
and knowing Washington to he there in person,
withdrew from pursuit, satisfied with hnving routed
tlie wing. The Amcricun troops then slowly re.
treated in good order towards a strong position on
the heights not fur otfi ^
Annette was delighted to see tlmt among thoso
who fled were neither her father nor brother; but
she was pained lo discover among tho pursuers her
own false lover, who, seeing her at a distance, rein,
ed up his horse und turned aside, hoping to escape
Iter notice. When she saw this, she resolved she
would not only banish him from her heart, but
from her thoughts. But the resolution* of a mui.
len in love, are made only to be broken, especially
when the lover is tho object of them.
It was about eight o’ciock; the evening of tho
battle; when Annette was seated in her door lis.
toning to every footstep, expecting her futher nnd
brother. It wus a pleasant night, but the timo
a sad ono. Sho fancied the winds wafted to
her the monns of the dying and wounded, from tho
woods and fields around where tho fight had been,
and her heart was full of forebodings of evil to
those so dear lo her. All at once she heard the
approach of horses’ feet, und started up with soli
citude—for she knew neither her father nor brother
wero mounted—she wuited nervously tho advance
of tho horseman along tho-road. Ho enme at u
slow pace, und us he drew nearer, sho discovered
by tbo light of tho moon that ho was nn oflicer, nnd
that his horse was wounded. Instead of passing tho
house towards the town, ho turned up to tho door
and rode toward lior. She was too familiar with
scenes of danger and the incidents of those warlike
times to feel alarm, nnd wailed quietly his upprouch
lo the door.stouc.
Good evening, maiden,’ ho snid, with a foreign
accent; ‘I pray thec*give mo your hospitality u
brief space—I and rny horse are both wounded, and
be will curry me no farther, I fear.*
There was something in the gentle tones of the
voice of the stranger, as well as in his noble figure
and engaging address, tlmt immediately interested
Annette in him ; and without asking him whether
he was friend or foeman, she invited him to alight
und enter the dwelling. With some dilliculty ho
got to the ground, for his leg was still* with his
wound. She assisted him and received his grate,
ful thanks. He then examined first his horse’s
wound, and with her aid dressed it, and had him
put into tho shed and protected from tho night air,
with plenty of hay. When this was done, he went
with her into the house, und submitted his foot and
ankle, which had been shuttered by n cannon shut,
to the skill of tho mother und daughter. Annette
then provided him with refreshments, und tried to
muke him us comfortable as possible, without
knowing whether bo wus ono of her country's in.
vaders or defenders ; but his foreign accent led
her to suspect that ho was tho former. But An.
nette was a Christian, and sho remembered and
obeyed tho injunction of our Savior—‘if thine ene
my hunger, feed him; if lie thirst, give him
drink.*
The ensuing morning, the grateful stranger was
about to leave. His horse was at the door, much
improved us well us his master.
‘My sweet maid,* suid tho oflicer,‘you must tako
gold, for 1 can repay thy hospitality in no other
way.*
* Cease to fight aguiust my country, is all I ask
sir,’ she said warmly.
The oflicer smiled and said, ‘Havo you then
regarded me as a foe, und still done ull this for
mu ?’
‘1 have done my duty sir.’
‘You are a noble girl, and I um happy to let you
know you have not thrown your hospitality away
upon one undeserving of it. I am an officer under
Washington.’
Tho stranger then remounted his horse and was
about lulling leave of her, nnd Annette had it on her
tongue to ask him who ho wus, when two men
made their appearance before the house with guns
and knapsacks.
‘ Father and brother !* cried sho, joyfully receiv.
ing their embraces, ns they hastened towards, her.
‘What oflicer is this 1 lie says he is under Wash
ington.*
The young man glanced at his face which Imd
been turned from them,and answered wi'h pride
aud pleasure. ’Do you not know him ? It is tho
young French General Lafayette.”
They then went towards him, and paid their ios.
peels, informing him thut thero imd been fears he
imd been slain.
♦No, no,* he said‘my brave men. I heedlessly
wandered from my stairafter night, and coming to
this house, was hospitably eutcrlu tied by the mui.
den, who mistook me for an Hnglisli oflicer, yet did
nothing lack iu her clmrites. You are honored,
monsieur ; in having so generous a child.*
* Thus speaking the young French soldier made
his adieus, and rode away.
After congratulating each other upon their safe,
ty, the brother told her that they Imd only come to
see her for u few hour*, and wero to return to tho
army the same night. They told her also that tho
column which hud pursued their right wing along
the road past the cottage, had afterwards been met
by General Knyplmusen und imd been compelled to
give up much of tho vantage ground it Imd gained,
with tiie ioss of a grout many men nIui'u and taken
prisoners. Annette recollected that George wus
in this division, und she would have asked for in
telligence of him, but her pride kept her silent. At
length her brother nnd father went into tho house,
und as she was fallowing them, a young man who
had been a rival of George Leo’s rode up to tho
door, alighted, und culled in a high tone of voice to
her brother—
•Ho ! Reuben, did you bear tlie nows? Geor^o
Lee wus taken last night skulking iu tiie
camp, and ho is to be hung this afternoon as a
spy !*
Annette heard, ana como near falling to tho
ground. Sue, however, recovered herself, and
with a bursting heart hastened, without making
aoy outcry, to hor own chamber. She still loved
her tory lover, und now that lie was likely to die, all
her heart bled for him, and all her lovo returned in
its si l ength.
•Ho shall not die !’ she said resolutely !* I will
save him.*
That afternoon George Lee was brought out for
execution iu thu rebel camp. Lofayclte was in bis
tent, when Annette, breaking through the guards,
throw ht-r&elf ut his feet, and implore' his interces.
sion for hor lover’s life. He recognized his ho*-
less, und hastened with hur to Washington. What
hu said to his chief we know not; but wc do know
George Lee was pardoned, und the next day wus
attached to Lafayette’s body guard. In tiie subse
quent battles of the revolutionary struggle, he dis
tinguished himseli by his vulor und devotion to the
American cannc, and al thccloso of the war mar
ried to Annette, whose patriotism was rewarded by
the fulfilment of those hope* of love which she hud
so nobly sacrificed in behalf of it.
SOHO*
The following lines have been set to music by
Mr. F. Shrivall, late ofUMPtrk Theatre, and sung
bv him with great applause on the occasion of Mr.
w. J. Hammond’s beuefit* at Drury Lane Thea-
tre, London
Thera is s apell in woman** love,
Liko fair masic o’er us Bleating ;
A radiant brightness from above,
Each fondest putasof UrJth revealing.
Tliere in a voice in woman’s lore,
Which more than words her heart diaclooca,
A rnptiiro in each blushing sigh,
Like xephyrs raiubow'd from young roses.
Tliere ia a truth in woman’s heart,
Unmoved by time, by want or sorrow ;
Pure springs oflove which ne’er depart,
And in affliction hope can borrow.
All who can blight each tender love T
Who could from her each fond hope never ?
Or who could false or faithless prove,
To her who lovea unchanging ever ?
Fashions for March.—In full dress both skir
and bodies continue to bo made long, particular
tho corsages, which have very deep points, an
tho backs are also very long waisted and rounded
this style is termed Maria Antoinette, those a i
Chutulniue are vory long, and those a la Montesp;i
are with points both before and behind. Skiti*.
are not worn so much extended by the under skirt,
tho medium between tho very bouflant, nnd tit*-
drooping skirt, is now become the fashionable style
The most elegant materials for the full dress ur •
the satin broaches with gold or silver, somo (.
which ^re intermixed with coloicd embroidery, wa
tered silks glances with silver or gold, muslins ui»t
gauzes embroidered au crochet, and for young la
dies the new material >9 termed lo vent tissu ; vei
elegant dresses of this have been made spoiu I
with silver and ornamented with silver cordsr Ma
ny drotses of gauze lisse are of two colors, with
trimmings of quilled ribbon in reversed folds i,t
two shades. A new kind of tulle a la Fontangi*.
which is very clear, is used for tho double and trip-
pie flounces on silk dresses* Bugles arc much u.-.-
ed for trimming black dresses of either velvet <
satin, berths, &c.; bugle fringes of three widths a
placed as flounces. Blond is also returning to I
vor.—Thu hair is dressed higher and wider, t :
back being generally twisted and ornamented wit
a fancy comb;—wreaths nre also much in fuvi
ns well as large flowers. Tho coilfiires for ball
and soirees are in great variety; turbans of ri<
materials with rcsilles, the Coiffures Blanch do Cm -
tiJJe, Anna Colyn, Maria Stuart,, toquo Lanibali .
coiffures Sevilllcnne nud Ninon aro among the I
vorites, Cupotes for young ladies, have been ma< •
with full crowns, with coulisses, ornamented I -
quillings of ribbon ; watered silk bonnets are flow
appearing, and white satin one3 lined with piuk,hu\
a long white feather.
A Bachelor’s Opinion of Wives.—The follow
ing from the “U/,cle Sam,” is one of the vilest slot
dors of the ladies, wo ever read. Wc did’nt kin*
before thut Uncle Sam was such a horrid old cui-
mudgeon :
What is so comfortable as a wife to chide y<»,
when you aro unfortunate, to grumble when tin-
weather is too cold, and snarl when it is too hot—
to scold when you spend-you evenings abroad, an 1
to torment you to death when you spend them .
home ; to growl nt the cat. to knoik down the s|k>\
cl, to keep your fireside in a continual uproar, i
threaten to leave you ond still cling to you like
bed.bug to a blanket; to send you for money iu th
hour of prosperity, and desert you in adversity, ai
after aU to bo continually putting you in mind tin :
she is an ill-used woman. Such a woman will fir.-i
ndoavor to impose upon your sympathies with h«
tears, and when she finds you cannot be caught in
that trap, she will fly at you with eyes of stone nnd
a brow ot brass and a tongue of thunder, till slu:
bus fairly driven you out of the house.
It is better to havo grout aims than aims to be
great. All dcsiro to be great—few have great de
sires. Thero is a difference between having a
great mind und having u mind to be great.
Jno. Wesley in 1777.—In the afternoon, I wall-
d to u street adjoining King’s square, to attend
John Wesley’s preachment; he being sealed on a
decent scaffold, addressed about two thousand peo
ple, consisting of tlie middle ond lower ranks. The
preacher’s ionguage was plain and intelligible,
without descending to vulgarism.—September 14 .
1777. In the afternoon 1 attended once more, John
Wesley, having the heavens for his canopy; In*
began with an extempore prayer, followed bv :i
hymn of his own composing, 4ml adapted to the
subject of his discourse. Ho wears his own gray
hair,ora wig so very like that my eye could not
distinguish. He is not u graceful speaker, In
voice being vveuk und harsh ; lie is attended hv
great numbers of the middling and lower classes .-
lie is said to have humanized tho almost savng
colliers of Kingswood, who, before lira time, were
almost as fierce anti unmanageble as the wild beasts
of tho wilderness. He wears an Oxford master’s
gown : his attention, seemingly not directed to
manner and behaviour,—not judo, but negligent,
dress cleanly, not neat. He is ulwnys visiting the
numerous societies of his own forming in Kugiand,
Scotlund, Wales and Ireland; though near eight)
years old, lie reads, without spectacles, the smallest
print, lie rises at four, preaches every day at five
and once besides ; an uncommon- instanco of phys
ical ability.
Stage Feeling.—Austin used to relato that, in
walking up the stage with Garrick, until the burst
of applause which followed ono of bis displays in
Lear, should subside, tho great actor lliurst hi.*
tongue in Ids cheek, und said with a chuckle, ‘Joe,
this is a stage-feeling.* In like manner, Mrs. Sul.
dons,after rushing ofT the stage in, apparently, 1 ho
most excruciating anguish in Belvcdoru, or Mn.
Beverly, was accustomed to walk quietly tin; green
room, thu retting up hor nose enormous quantities
of snuff, with the greatest nonchalance imaginable.
After commending Kelley’s ucting in The Deser
ter, she gravely udded, ‘But, Kelley, you fed too
much, if you feel ao much you will never moke an
actor. True it is, that an actor who plays from
feeling will play worse at every successive repr«-
Actuation, until lie will bo unable to act at all.—Mr.
vioirs of Mundcn, in Identic fa Mtscd/nny.
The Lady and the Lawyer.—A lawyer nut
over young nnd handsome, in examining u young
lady, a witness itv court, made many attempts to
confuse her, nnd thus ronder her testimony contra
dictory ond unavailing. Sho however remained
calm, and proof against all frivolous questions pui
to her. At last the lawyer determined to perplex
her, said, ‘Miss, upon my word you are very pret
ty !* The young Indy very promptly replied, i
would return the some compliment, sir, if I were
not on my oath.* As moy be supposed the lawyer
questioned her no more.
Corsets.—Tiie editor of the Baltimore Clipper
so vs :—*• We hope our neighbor of the Republic; n
is not umong the followers of the corset fash,
ion”—to which lie of the Republican replies :—
“The lessons taught us in oar youth have can.
bled us thus fur, thank Heaven, to walk straight
through Ue without any adventitious aid ; and as
fir appearances, editors of political newspapers ore
generally s/im enough, without the aid of lacing,
und often find themselves in a* tight squeeze* in op
position to their free will »nd consent. As for the
girls, if they will waist themaehes away, although
we consider such doings unconstitutional, we v I
not attempt to nullify their wishes, or render tbo
laws of Cushion uu-slayble. We shall rejoice,how.
ever to see thut day arrive when they will, lik •
true Americuns in feeling, hurst the bonds that hind
them.”
Were wc to point out a person us he passes, and
say,“Thero goes a man, wlio bus not u vice”—he
would scarcely be noticed; but exclaim, “That
munis worth 8500,000,” and be will bo stared at
till out of sight.
A German astronomer announces the conjunc
tion of Mars and Venus, the former distant Ir«*n>
the sun fifty.three millions of leagues, ond the lat
ter twenty.five millions. They are to meet in the
sign of Capricorn, in the course of the present
mom)}, ami will bo visible to the naked eye m A the
iicighboihoud of tho Pyrenees.