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dA r. W*
POETICAL
[FIt'tM THE noSTUX DAILY BULLETIN.]
THE DAUGHTERS OF THE WEST.
They tell m** nfthnt iliatnnt land
'Arroae tlie tniglitv ant;
They any that nnture'a work* ore giand.
America, in thcc.
The Forest tleep,the Prairie wild,
Who«e nndtiIntinti nod
Is yet hy human IiiiiiiIm nutoilM,
The ntighly work nf <iod-^
The torrent whose impctiio'is fall
Hath never known n rest;
Ami then they praise above these nil,
The Dmightns of the West.
They name the t hief with dauntless brow,
And Indian dignity,
Who stalks beneath the forest hough,
In Into nobility ;
Of glorious trophies, (on, they tell,
On plains of e.ii'itson won,
Where first the wreutli ofllritnin f**ll ,
It fell-—bill to her Son
And vet the theme they sing of most,
With kindling eve and breast,
Is one, their country's pride nml boast,
The Daughters ol the West.
My fancy yenrns to wander through
The semes of grandeur there,
llut most nl'nll, I sigh to view
Those maids so passing lair.
Long mny they bn their country’s pride,
And ntny her sons deserve
To find in each a gentle bride
Whose heart can never swerve;
May Heav’ii protect them from all harm,
And may they e’er be blest
With ronstaut love, life’s brightest charm,
The Daughters of the West.
London, April, 1013. Mariana.
MISCELLANEOUS.
A Talc ot the Heart.
“Oh, life to come, if in thv sphere
Love, woman's love,our heaven could be,
Who would not then forego it here
To lusto it them eternally."
Moore's Alciplion.
One of the strongest passions which sway the
human breast is love. All must experience it.—
It is a destiny from which none are exempt, in
however humble or exulted u sphere fate may
have placed them. The object of rags, wretched-
nets and deformity, ns well as the inheritant of
splendor and mngnificcncc will at once acknowledge
its gentle sway, or remain the monuments of its
blasting disappointments. It lias been confined to
nooneage of people. It is as old ns the world it.
self. Ancient mythology has said there was a
time when primeval chaos and Love, eldest of the
the immortals, moved in solitude over the tenant*
less Earth. It presided over the first creation ;
and the earliest of the human race felt its divine
—its conquering influence. They entailed it upon
their heirs forever; for where is there one of their
vnst descendants who has hounded into the flowery
and intoxienting scenes of vomit and manhood,
whose garden of happiness is complete without
some furest Eve to adorn it with beauty, sweet*
ness or love li
Poetry and song have pronounced it a hcavon*
born passion over which the gods exercise es
pecial sway ; yet would we ask— *
“Y« *a« re»l power*, which rule on high (
If love'* a Heaven-born pa**ioti, tell me why
Do mortals love, ami Ileuveiiso olt deny 1"
J. II. STEELE aV P. Til WE ATT, Editors.
1o givi that hand to one who wns not a follower
of the same lord nml master whom l strive to serve
ami they.”
My friend and tlio object of his love met for the
last time. She understood the nature of his visit :
She apprehended tlio result, and falling upon bis
neck poured forth tears and exclamation of the
most passionate anguish.
* * * * *
The fate of my friend was sealed forever.—
From that day all ambition ; all his energy of
character took its filial flight, lie returned to the
bright clime—the homo of Ids childhood.—Hut
few years Imvo since passed ; yet of the few he
lingered fewer. Consumption marked kim as her
own. it was a claim lie did not withstand :
MH.LEDGEVILLE, TUESDAY, MAY 9, 1843.
VOL. XXXIV-NO 32.
Why is it that hearts which met and mingled
I together should, so often, be blighted with di*«p«
1 puintments ? Our people engaged in the acquisi*
I lions of wealth, present on every side the most
I busy, bustling und animating scenes of business :
lyet how many noble natures ; how many glorious
I Slopes; how much of tile seraph’s intellect have
1 ik;en crushed and blasted for ever ? Occasionally
|"esee one, not steeled to the selfishness of the
I world, with tlio frosts of misery, not of years, pre*
I dominating over the bright locks of boyhood ; a
1 lonely wanderer in the thoroughfare of being,
I whoso affections aro unshared, buried in bis own
|bosom in eternal solitude.
How oft remembrance recalls those blest and
I.oaliowed scenes of life’s young morn, when, in
II'ieasure’s fairy bowers, we roved with the fair
lnaired girl of our early love, or in sportive mirth
1 danced the merry round when all was light with
Wand eacli young heart felt free and happy?
lilow often, as wo stand amid the ruins of our nf*
[ketions and the overthrow of our hopes, do we
I pant for the duys of our bounding boyhood, when
line varied emotions of our lieu its were undcvul*
loped? How joyously did thu soul then take its
1 tat step into the mystic regions of our first and
I blushing love ? There were no shattered frag
o'ents of experience ; and wc rejoiced in the ra*
I'Jiant beauty of its presence. Our young pleasures
I'Jute on golden pinions and ever spoke in voices of
1 melody ; for the band of time bad not yet
Iroculdercd them to decay. Well do I remember
laicene of my college days, the unhappy fate, the
■torturing desulution of heart which fell to the lot of a
|<toinpnnion and classmate, llo was one of the
Itoighest ornaments of our institution. The brilliant
■dawn of his intellect, bis gentlemanly deportment
l^nchanted the esteem of all : and at once in
liroduced and rendered him a welcomo visitant
luinong the polished circles for which the town oT
l°ur temporal residence was so highly eminent.
1 An intimacy was contracted with the benuiiful
I *nd intellectual daughter of the reverend Doctor
•. The intimacy ripened into most ardent
IafliH'i, in—they loved. All my friend’s visions of
'topjiuie-s and distinction, every ambitious aspira*
I 'ton was painted for her. She wns the rose which
■ Save a fragance to every surrounding object.—
l^lie obtruded herself, all her fascination, upon the
I tedious page, tiiu hively landscape and in the
I'Teiuny visions of midnight she was his being—
|bfo and soul.
"he novitiuto of our studies was at length com*
IPctcd. Tlio period had already arrived when
l ather baud of youths were to aid farewell to their
mater—tlio associations and companions of
| u,e 'r youth.
Previous to our disbanding, my friend proceeded
I 0 consijlt the father of tho lining in whose bands
l''° r e placed his deMiny and happiness. It wns the
p vent of his life in which energy stamped his
And where is tiic lady of his love ; does she
live ? JSlie is alive : but sorrow has marked her
for its own—t he light of joy illumines not her eye—
tho rose of beauty is fading from her cheek—the
worm is in the bud ; and the sun of autumn will
smile upon ,'ier grave.
The Fate of Monsieur Achilla.
Monsieur Achille was tlio richest hanker in
Paris. Horn and brcd^i Jew, lie had, when very
young, from motives of interest, conformed to the
Christian faith ; he was now about forty years of
age, but looked some years less, short, stout, sal
low, with the features peculiar to his tribe, black
hair, bushy whiskers, and piercing eyes, dressed in
the extreme of the fashion, surrounded by every hr*
tide of taste and luxury—in ail extraneous circum
stances, a gentleman and a “ hcl espritbut in
mind and heart, us in face and person, a Jew and a
plobeiun.
One morning, at tlio early hour of eleven, while
seated at breakfast, he was startled by an announce-
ment from his valet that the Duchess de Montiliore
was waiting to see him in the grand saloon ; that
she had come on foot, and unattended, and had only
at last given hername when she found it impossi
ble to obtain admission without doing so.
Monsieur Acliilie’s pale cheek flushed, then fud-
ed to n double sallowness, then lie smiled, then al
most trembled—at last, he desired his valet to re-
turn to the Duchess, and announce his speedy arri
val ; then having carefully revised his toilet, and
fortified himself with a glass from one of tho Lot
ties of liquor on the table before him, be descended
to the grand saloon.
Tho Duchess was standing with her back to him,
examining a picture of exquisite beauty, which hung
on tho opposite side of tho room ; he had time to
close tho door and advance halfway up the apart
iiiont before she became aware of bis entrance or
turned to greet him. When she did so, what a con-
trust did she present to him ! She, in her calm and
smiling beauty—so cold and so proud ! so supreme
lv lovely ! lie, with his coarse and ordinary feu
lures, his ungainly figure, his embarrassed manner!
The Duchess wns a beautiful woman—perhaps she
bad never looked more beautiful than she did at
that moment—her tall form drawn to its full height
her simple white robe and bonnet, her rich unu-
dornod liair, her pale lip trembling with a smile, the
inelTublo loveliness of which thrilled to the heart of
the man before her while lie winced beneatli its
deep contempt.
She spoke first. “ Monsieur Achille, I have come
tobegal'avor of you—but pray sit clown.” (lie
obeyed her, and they seated themselves opposite to
each other.) 4 *I have come to ask vou for money
—wc know how rich you nro. You must know
how aflairs stand with us—our revenues barely sup
port our rank, our expenses nro enormous; the
sales of all mv jewels will not raise suflicient to pay
this debt of honor of my husband’s—but it v ust be
paid,and paid to-morrow. You, who know every
thing, must known nil this ; and to you, as the rich
est man in Haris, I come to request the loon—I
might almost say, the gift—of thirty thousand fouis
(Par.”
“ Thirty thousand louis, Madam ! you ask half
what I possess.”
“Not so, Monsieur Achille ; one successful spec
ulation will restore it to you. You will scarcely
miss it ; to mo, it will be life—more than life—
honor. This, with tho sale of my daimonds, w
bring us barely through.”
Monsieur Achille was silent for some time ; then
with n bitter sneer, “Try Do Vaiens und Benulleur
—will not these supply you V*
“Vou mock me—you know they cannot. Oh
Monsieur Achille, have mercy—have mercy !”nnd
the Duchess, sinking on her knees, clasped her
white hands, and laid them on his feet.
li You have had little mercy, Madam—you have
had little mercy and then there was n pause. At
Inst—“You love your husband, Madam?” “ Hot
ter than mv life,” was the reply. “Then rise, Mad
am ; seat yourself, and listen to me.”
ers of police to the Hotel Mouliiiorc, the result of
whicli visit was that the valet was arrested and tri
ed for the murder and robbery of his master. Want
of evidence led to his acquittal; but while in con-
dfiernent, nothing could exceed tho kindness of the
Ducliess towards him, or her liberality after his re
lease. She, so beautiful, sc beloved, she was still
the same—as cairn, as proud, as apart as ever !
ido to adorn the world, to her that world was no
thing—over her it hud no power !
Among her intimate friends, she was heard to
ameni '.lie death of Monseur Achille, as the means
of depriving her husband of a large loan which he
was to have received on the night on which the mur
der was committed, and of which it was supposed
Monsieur Achille was robbed while in the act of
bringing it to the Hotel Montifiore. She also re-
retted having been obliged to part with some of her
plendid diamonds, in order to raise suflicient lo
pay her husband’s debts of honor.
All these debts were paid; and, after a time, those
alchless gems again blazed amid tho pule gold of
her rich hair, and spanned the snowy circle of her
arm; the tresses were like sunlight, tin; arm like
Parian marble, the diamonds without price—none
aw or dremtof the blood—the blood—that bound
them round the bright bond, clasped them on that
urm, chained them te each other.
.Monsieur Achille was soon forgotton. The
Duke and Duchess de Montifiore lived lung and
happy lives; no cloud ever seemed to shade his
gay and open brow, or dim the lustre of her glori
ous beauty. His debts once paid, no future embnr-
assments darkened their prospects ; one bright
path of unbroken prosperity alone remained for
them; they died as they had lived, honored, res
pected, admired, and bequeathed to those around
and beneath them tho almost singular example of
great rank, unblemished descent, unbounded wealth
united with all perfections of mind, character, and
conduct.
The Haunted Ship.
Duringthe last war, otic of our frigates captured
in tho Pacific a large English whaler; and, lo tiio
surprise ofthe Boarding officer he found the crew
manifesting a great desire to get on board the
frigate and evidently quite satisfied il'i not actually
gratified, tnat they were captured. On inquiry it
was found that lire captured whaler was a haunted
ship ! The news soon spread through the frignte :
the next trouble was to assemble a vailing prize
crew to go on board the prize—which trouble
might have been a serious one, but fur tlio force of
discipline. The Prize was a large and valuable
ship—hut she was haunted ! The autlieiftic re-
port that during a still night, when no other noise
wus hoard, ami no other motion fell than that of
the slow, undulating movement ofu Pacific ocean
sea, a deep and deadly groan was heard below,
coming apparently from tho after-part of the ves
sel, and heard distinctly from every open hatchway;
and so great was the panic at lust, that the captain
declared ho could not induce a man to go bo-
low.
The prize.mastei,on taking possession,prelend*
cd to disbelieve the story, and declared that if ho
heard any groaning or other ghostly noises he’d
soon find out tin* cause. As evening approached
the prizo crew began to listen ; and sure enough,
when the usual noise of ship work subsided, and
nil was silence, a long, deep sigh came up through
the after hatchway, and increased at intervals us
ilenca prevailed, till at last a full and audible
groan came forth, that not only huddled the prize
v into a close forecastle group, but made their
blood curdle and their teeth chatter. Groan sue.
ceeded groan nt short intevnls, till at length tho
prize-master interposed—“where in does that
noise come from ? Cull all hands.” (There was
no need of this call; all hands were ulrcady on
leek. “Steward, get lights ; come men, arm
yourselves and follow me. I’m d I if I don’t
have a lussel with this groaner.” I lc led the way,
and the crew followed. On reaching tho ’tween
decks he stopped and listened to get right direc
tion of tho groan. It came, as before, from the
after part of the ship ; nnd so deep and long drawn,
that it seemed the last life effort of a Hercules in
an exhausted death struggle—a full sigh terminat
ing in a groan of agony ! ! !
The dauntless prize*master, though armed with
hoarding sword, stood for a moment petrified.—
Had ho rctreated.one step, it is quite certain every
one of his followers would very soon have been
found huddled together again in a group on the
forecastle, so terrible was that last groan, nnd ho
awful its effect upon the hearts of those who, on
occasion of battle, were found foremost in the
Foppinz the Question.
One of the merriest follows of the day is the gal-
Innt Col. Carter, of Lycoming Gazette, The
following are his grave nnd profound remarks upon
tho important science of “ Popping the Question.”
Girls arc queer little animals—angels, we inten
ded to have said ; nnd wo love ’em all. in spile of
their faults, folly and flirting. Wo have “popped
the question” at least a dozen times, and a dozen
times hnve wc been refused. Tlio frequent re
verses have not engendered a feeling of despair ;
and, strange as it may sound, we ore on us good
terms with curself as ever. Wo rather attribute
this want, of success to a want of taste and dis
cernment on the part of certain fuirones; and dark
09 the prospect now is. wo entertain a faint hope
that, perhaps at some distant day. wo may yet woo
and win some young, middle aged, or even old lady,
worthy of our small means but extensive prospects;
worthy of our high standing (six feet in our socks);
and worthy of those graces of mind and person
which we are supposed by many to possess.—But
this is au episode—only indulged in to show oyr
dear •* Maria,” that the decision of this momentous
question lia« been left lo a person who has had some
The capture ofthe Highflyer by Commoiere Roger*.*
This English mun-of-wur schooner whs cuptur-
ed bv the gallant Rogers during the last war when
Rogers wns in command of the President—Tho
Eng’ish ships on the coast knew that ho was on a
cruise, and would return, and nil the commanders
were cautioned to keep a good look out for the
Yankee frignte. The President fell in with the
land (dr M’jiituuk Point, nnd wns standing towards
Gay Head, keeping an eye windward for the ene-
mv’s cruisers, when a strange sail was made in tho
oliing on the starboard how. Hu was soon made
out lobe a -schooner, a rakish looking one, coming
op under full sail. She soon hoisted English col
ors, and from her gene’ral appearance, and the col.
or of her canvass confirmed the indication that she
was a member of the family of John Bull.
Commodore Rogers shortened sail, and also
hoisted English colors—and the commander of iho
schooner, who was evidently a thick headed fellow,
took it for granted that the President w as one of tho
English frigates oil tliat station. But in order to
make sure that ho w as right, lie hoisted a set of
signals—which of course were not understood on
board ibe Yankee. Thu Cornmodor* . however, or.
experience in tlio wayward, strange, queer, puz* | derod a red and white flag to bo run up quickly
zlmg, perplexing, incomprehensible and capricious ! and immediately hauled down. 1 his had the no-
ways of lovely woman ! Now, to the text. | sired effect- The flag was not clenrlv distinguish-
if a gentleman should meet with a repulse—a , ed, but tho commander of the. schooner was con-
refusal—it is wlio.ly and solely his own fault. It vinccd that his signal had been duly answered and
is in his power to ascertain the state of the lady’s ' not wishing to app ar dull on the occasion, hauled
feelings before he “ unbosoms” himself. But how ? 1 down his (lugs, and continued his course until ho
Of course, she will never make a lender confession ! came under the Ice quarter of tho frigate, within
in tender words or tender looks. Oh. no! She ' range nf her guns ! Hie President hove to with
will use every little artifice to convince him that the British ensign floating at her peak the schoo*
she does not care two straws for him, hut if she nor was soon within hail and the question was
reuliy I jvcs, she betrays tlio existence of the ten-'asked by the President, “What schooner is
der passion in a hundred dilferoiit ways in the pro* i that 1
sence of tiie “dear object.” If site meets tlio *• ob
ject” in tiie street, she tries to look cold and com
posed, hut blushes to her temples. If they should
be left alone, and are in close proximity, they be
come excruciatingly embarrassed ; hnve a sort of
•His Majesty’s schooner Highflyer. *
“Come on bourd, sir, with your papers, direct-
‘Aye, aye, sir!”
The boat was lowered forthwith, and manned.
choking sensation about tiie throat—tienibling of, and a British Lieutenant stepped into it, and was
limbs—faltering of words—changing of color, j soon alongside of the frigate. Ho ascended tho
&c., (See. If he admires any peculiar mode of j gangway with an air of much importance, and was
wearing tho hair—any particular stylo of dress— polite*) received by an officer on deck, and usher*
he will discover that she innocently and uncon- j ed into the cabin, where sat Commodore Rogers,
sciously enough accommodates herself to Ins fancy. ‘ as calm as a summer’s morning,” with a roguish
If, on entering the loom, she is tho last to greet his j leer lurking ah.mt his countenance,
approach, he mny set it down ns a very favorable Thu Lieutenant, with a how, handed the Com-
symptom, ad infinitum ; but wo have furnished en-j modern some paper
his iustruc*
conlauitiq
lions.
“Umpli!” grunted the Commodore, “and so, sir,
I see you are on the lookout lor tiie American fri
gate President, Commodore Rogers.”
“Yes. sir J”
“Have you seen anything of her ?’’
“No, sir!”
“When did you leave tiie squadron?”
“Yesterday morning, sir.”
“I lave you had so particular a description of tlio
ough ibr all useful purpo;
li', then, a gentleman finds a lady in the state which
we have attempted to describe, lie may propose
with perfect safety. But lie must be careful ns to j
lime and plncc. Tho season of sunshine and flow, i
ers is the time—when mountain and liiil, plain and '
valley, are clothed in the richest verdure—when the |
birds carol forth their songs jf joy and love—when j
the balmy winds of the South give color to the
cheek and life to the step—when the sweet mur
muring of the brook breaks upon the silence ofthe , of the President as to enable you to recognize her
fore it—when tho rosy goddess of tho morn bathes j if you should chance to tall in with her ?” coiitiu-
the smiling landscape in one bright stream of gold- j tied tiie Commodore.
en e ffulgence—when tho eves become soft, tender, ! “Certainly, air, 1 sha'l be able to know her iin-
dewy, and tlio lowing of herds proclaim the close , mediately !”
of du.y—when each field speaks of joy and plenty j “Well, sir!” said Commodore Rogers, with a
—when every trembling leaf whispers of love— smile, looking the British officer full in the eye, “l
Oil, tnen, then is the time ! j will keep you no longer in suspense, nnd will take
As lo the place—in some secluded walk, where this opportunity to inform you that you are now oil
there i’js no possibility of interruption.—Trembling-j board the United Slates ship President, and that
ly plaoo her delicate, white, soli hand within your the person who now lias the honor of addressing
own mutton fist, pop tlio question, ami murmur in- yon, is Commotion) Rogers !”
to her expecting cars vows of love und constancy ! ( “The ustniiishmenl of the poor Lieutenant may
If sin*, is a sensible, candid, oil handed sort of girl, i be imagined, lie had been most egrogiously dup-
she will say “ Yes,” and thunk you. If she is a I ed, and could never Isold up his beau njain. The
timid, loving girl she will probably burst Into tears, | labors of his life were destroyed in a moment,
hide her hea l in your bosom, and refer you to her 1 While ^this little seen** bad been enacting in
“ pappy.” If site is a foolish girl she will say the cabin, the crew were piped to dinner, and tiie
“ Yes” eagerly, and jump up and kiss you. If she ! officer ofthe deck ordered one ol Hie boatswain’s
is a coquettish girl -she will look pleased, but pro* i males to ask the boat’s crew to come on board, and
tend i;o be astonished, and it will require many | got something to out.
succeeding interviews before you are uin'e to make i This functionary accordingly looked over tlio
her “ define her position.” 1 side, and addressing tho boat’s crew, said,—“I say
Tr Jo love, we ail know, is diffident, and tlio (pies I shipmates, step ubourd will you and get something
Romance in Real Life.—The Boilon Time#
. ecords tho following story of a love affair which
took place in that city :
“About a yenr since a young man came to this
city from Belchertown in this State, nnd entered a
dry good* store in VVashington street as salesman.
His steady habits and attention to business won
him the regard of his employer, while his respect-
fill courtesy nnd manly beauty secured tho good fa
vor of the lady customers of the store. Among
tho latter was a very beautiful young daughter of
one of our most rcspectubie citizens. A sort of
telegraphic intercourse was established between tiie
two nnd it was not long before it was follow- -I by
a*regular introduction ar.d intimacy. Wo should
have said that Mr. B had inherited a small
property from his deceased parents, and this may
have had some weight with the father and mother
of the young lady,by whom the young man was soon
regarded as their son-in-law. So matters being
arranged, ull went “merry as n marriage boll,”
when, lo! there appeared upon tlie carpet n d »sh*
ing Now York tailor, who proposed to the father of
tne affianced girl to remove to New York, nnd eu-
ler into business with him on a grand scale in (’hat-
ham street. Krom tho moment of this proposal tlio
prospects of B changed. The parents ot the
young lady looked coldly upon him, nnd tlio poor
girl was soon informed that she must dismiss her
suiter, and accept the band of tho dashing schneider,
Her remonstrances and tears were of no avail, and
her family prepared to leave Boston for New York.
Her old lover, however, found means to see her,
and perstiude her to elope with him, nnd one day
they rode out to Dedham, and there took seats in
the accommodation railroad train to Providence.—
However, the stenmbout in which they had engag
ed a passage lo New York wns detained by fog.n:,d
the lather of tho girl who had somehow got wind
of tho affair, arrived nt Providence, and obtained
possession of Ids fugitive daughter.
Tiie lover returned to town alone nml despa ring
—and the family removed with her to New York
in a few days afterwards. In that city she was
soon forced into giving a reluctant consent to nr r-
ry the tailor. Every tiling wns arrayed for ccie-
hrnting the nuptials in a most splendid manner, and
strange to sny, the girl appeared “ noUiing loath.”
Tin* ceremony was to take place in .Si. Jol.o’s
cliaorl, and numerous guests were Exited to tiie
wedding parly.—On the very day appointed for tho
inttrriugc however, tlio bride disappeared. There
was as much “ racing and chasing” in pursuit of
her ns alter the “ lost bride of Netlierly.” hut wile
equally had success. Fn the meantime, tho young
Liny, disguised in male attire, took passage on
hoard tho steamboat Cleopatra, nnd arriving wifely!it
Boston, without any adventure, was received in tlio
arms of a faithful female friend—a married lady
residing in Pleusnut street. Intelligen t} was soon
conveyed to hoi lover, and in company with him
and a fair companion, tho twice promised bride,
made an excursion lo Buttleborough. Vt„ where
the nuptial knot was firmly lied. Tim parties re
turned to Boston on Tuesday evening, and we had
the pleasure of shaking hands with them and wish-
them ali manner of felicity*
lion i s frequently “ popped” without tho “ popper*'
know ing wlmt the complexion of the answer will
to eat
“Shipmates, is it ? Ila!”
nplied a suspicious,
light. But he held t his ground—it was no time to ] dwell on the imperfections of the sex, tho blessings j
flinch, and cheered his men onward “to follow’
him. They came to a large stute-room, or stow-
hole, through which it was necessary lo pass, and
began with tho aid of a dim light held by a tremb
ling steward, to remove some obstructions in tlio
The first tiling tiie prize-master accidently
Lie venerable old man look him by the hand
| 8ri( i w hh tears in his eyes, thus nddrssspd him :—
' have loved you as a soil* Your brilliai t
I* 1 l‘*nix. your gentlemanly manners have long ex-
1 , f i uiy admiration nnd praise. You have ex-
■ lotted a regard for one who i« timing tlio dearest
Ij T’cts on earth. Could genius, intellect, honora*
I 0 leclings and noble and generous lieart, ho the
r n| .v qualifications whicli l would desire, then
|| lu ul(J mv fondest wish he gratified bv placing the
I 1 ‘‘udof mv daughter in yours : But I regret flint
l"“o thing is wanting. | could never without viola*.-
B ln R u feeling of duty, which is imperative, consent
That evening, about nine o’clock, Monsieur Acli
illo, dressed with tiie utmost elegance, shrouded in
a large clonk, under which lie carried a small, but
lieavcy packet, entered bis cabriolet, and desiring
his confidential valet to attend him, drove in Hie di
of the Hotel Montifiore. The drive was a lon L
one ; and lie, procco 'ing at a Icasurely pace, bad
time to reflect upon and ponder over the events of
the day* She ! whom he bad so loved—she, who
bad so spurned, so despised him—the woman lie
had once sued and prayed to, whose laugh of Juris
ion hud rung in his ears so long—she, who worship,
pud, so respected, whom calumny had never reach
ed, who stood in the centre of a profligate court, pur
er than falling snow—she to be his, at last—bought
bought—with a price—she, to whom ah the nobles
of tiie land bad sighed in vain, reserved at lust for
him !
At the corner of tlio street in which stood tiie
Hotel Montifiore be stopped, and gave the reins in
to the hands of his valet; lie told him he was g>’in^
on business to the Duke de Montifiore ; that iflhe
iiuhlemnn was from home, lie should wait umil lie
returned ; that lie expected his cabriolet to lie at
that same spot in two hours’ lime, and tiiat, if be
was not the to meet it, he wished bis servant to take
it homo, and ho would return on foot, and on no ac
count to mention where lie hud left him, or to give
uny clue as to the proceedings nnd destination of
that evening.
Thu valet obeyed these orders to tho letter. Mon
sieur Achille reach the Hotel Modtifiore, and pass,
ing at a small side entrance into the court, gave n
low whistle; the door wns immediately opened hy
figure so mulled that it wns impossible to distinguish
either its «cx or age ; with a silent movement, it
beckoned bim to fellow ; they crossed tiie court*
and readied a small and dark apartment—they
paused.
“ l have brought it all, most lovely Duchess.
And now—“lie took tenderly the extended hand of
the figure—tlio grasp that met his was one of iron.
“Nit all gold ?”
“Allgold.” ho answered ; nnd this was tlio hut
word lie ever uttered.
Monsieur Achille wns missing for two days ; nnd
great excitement prevailed in consequence ; on the
tldrd day, his body was found in tlio river, some
miles from the place where his valet stated he had
seen him last; his pockets were rifled, his jewels
gone ; as ghastly wound in his breast showed liovv
he had died.
His servants were all strictly examined, when the
valet made his statement: in consequence of
which a visit was instantly paid by the commission
put his hand on was tlio arm. shoulder, and part of
tho face of an old mutilated figure-head, which,
perhaps, formerly decorated tlio prow of tho ship.
Pulling it out of a mass of old rigging, and holding
it up, lie facetiously exclaimed, “Here’s a part of
Mr. Ghost : come along, men. we’ll get the whole
of him presently.” Tne light wns just sufficient
to develop the form of a human limb and rigid
muscles,and tiie effect was so appalling upon tiie
steward that lie dropped the lantern. Tiie
prize-master dropped tiie limb, picked up the
lantern, nml pushed on, commanding his men to
follow ; who, finding themselves now in the
midst of danger, began to *d—n their eyes,” ami
plucked up.
The stow-hole being passed through, they ap
proached what might be culled an after hold, or
run, stowed with casks. Mere the deep sigh and
heavy groan filled every space, though somewhat
altered intone, and less human and ghost-like.—
On carefully surveying the scene, a largo cask was
discovered with the Lung out ; at every roll of tlio
ship, a rush of air would pass across this bung hole,
and caused a most unearthly sound. (And hero it
may as well he stated, that if any skeptic desires to
satisfy his doubts, let them take an empty bottle or
decanter with the cork out, nnd blow across it#
nozzle—let him magnify this to the size of a large
cask, with a large bunghole, and then iie may form
some idea of the groan alluded to.)
The bung was found nnd replaced, and the groans
and doath struggles ceased, and the haunted ship
turned out a good prize. But it was not without
its moral to sec the manner, and witness the re-
iarks of some of the old salts composing tho prize
crew,qf/er the real discovery was made. Not a
mother’s son of them was found unable to hitch up
with his elbows tiie waistband of his canvass low.
. und assert “that he never believed in ghosts nnd
hobgoblins,not he, nnd would just as soon ginpplo
with one as with an Englishman ; and some bloody
nonsense or other.” Hut the story got to tiie fri-
gate, and many a midwateh wns enlivened by tlio
variations through wJiich it passed accompanied hy
an empty bottle to illustrate the awlul groans on
hoard “ The Haunted Ship."
Sr.:
be from tho “ popper.” If the lady hours you j dry-looking chap, acting as cockswain, who was in
cold! y nnd unnuved—betrays no alarm, no embar- j the nut of tlimsiing an enormous quid of tobacco
russi ncnt, no soft fluttering of tlio heart, hand and 1 between It is jaws, “Pretty shipmates you are!”
voic d—und blasts your hopes by polite utierniico | The men went on deck ai d took a look at the
of tiie tcrrilicully terrible monosyllable “ No,” we sails and around them. “1 say Ned,” exclaimed
advise you iinmccfiuieiy to gel on your feet again, ; tho cockswain, “just twig that split canvas jib\
carefully brush tiie din oil’your knees, take your j Brother Jonathan has fairly got to windward of us
iiat in your hand, bow politely und indifferently to | this time !”
the l.udy, as iflhe disappointment was not so great j The next morning, the frigate President and tho
ass.ie expected, walk yourself off to your lodg* i schooner Highflyer were snugly nt anchor in Hie
! ings„ light u cigar, take a still* brandy “ cocktail,” ! harbor of New port. — Dos. Mcr. Jour.
a baclilor’s life, and it is probable you will soon i Hope, fear, anxiety, and distrust.—When
forget her. It must be evident that she don’t care 1 thou hast no observers, bo afraid of thyself; that
a copper about you. It is true, by dogged perse- j which you arc afraid to do before men, be afraid to
veranoeyou might eventually obtain her consent; , think of before God,
but, in nine cases out often, heurts donut accom- ! In your estate ; hope, in tiie best, fenr; but in
pany hands w on in Hint way. But if the lady says | all he circumspect; man is a watch, which must be
“ No !” when a.i her looks actions say “ Yes,” do looked to and wound up every day.
not, we beseech you, tear hair and fly off*in u tan- | Discontent is tho greatest weakness of n genor-
gent. The hook nuscaught, and by giving her ! ous soul; for many times it is so intent upon its
plenty of line, and playing with her delicately und unhappiness, that it forgets its remedies,
scientifically, you can in good time draw her to your I J !e that grieves for the loss of casual comforts,
arms, ns she blushingly confesses the power and shall never want occasion of sorrow,
potency of your charms. ’ A man cannot bo truly happy here, without a
A body of a fellow, now, mny spoil all, in this well grounded hope of being happy hereafter-
s age of tho proceedings, by his haste, or tardiness, 1 Hope will he your best antidote against all mis*
and lei the fuir one escape from his unskilful hands, 1 fortune ; and God’s omnipotency an excellent
to bo caught in tiie net of some old sportsman. i ineun to fix your soul.
— — A good conscience seats the mind on a rich
I iie Faults of Statesmen. He who occupies j throne of lasting quiet, but horror waits upon a
a public position should k«;ep a closer guard on his , f|J jj|y M()1 ,| t
actions tlitin a private individual, for wnat aro but : b l.\, ur noilimt which cannot ho avoided. It is
imprudence* in tho latter, arc crimes in the furmei. exlromo folty to make yourself miserable before
Bruugbam says: i your time, or to fear that which it may be will tiev-
It is ot most dangerous example, of corrupting , er come j or if it docs, mny possibly be converted
tendency,ever to let faults of Statesmen pass tm. j i[lto vour fdicity. l'ur it often fulls out. that that
censured, or to treat the errors or the crimes j whiu *„ j llt mo „ fearodi W | 1CII it CIJinoa , brings much
which involve the interest of millions w ith iLo i iiappines* with it.
same indulgence towards human frailty which we j X;, f,. ar is j„ i| sc |f painful and when it conduces
may, in the exercise of charily, show towards the t „ sll)i . 1Vi is jlllul wjlho ut use.
more venial trangrossions that only hurt an tndt. ; A wis( . sai j Seneca, is provided for oc-
v.dual, most commonly only tho wrong doer hint. , currenci , s of anv kin( j . the g „ u( | | lt , manages, tho
I bad ho vanquishes ; in prosporty ho botruvs no
Not iUn.-Thc following suggestion is from : Pfc-umption,and in adversity he feels no despon.
the Newark Daily : deney.
It has been the custom in some of our countrv Hopes and cares, anger nnd fears, d.vtde our
life ; would you bo free from their anxieties, think
Marriage.—When a man of sense comes to
marry, it is a companion whom ho wants, and not
an artist. It is not merely a creature who can
paint, play, drois and dance—it is a being who
car. comfort and console him.
The clmln of love is fading flowers, but that of
wedlock is of gold—lasting us well as beauti
ful.
self.”
districts to sell the poor ol the palish to the lowest
bidder. Why not dispose ot political beggars in
tho same way ? Suppose when an office becomes
vacant, the appointing power should adveitiso lor
proposals, ns the Post Office does for mail con-
tracts, and give it to the lowest bidder who can ,
furnish the necessary securities. It might save , Co . nsu,,u * n
every day will be your last, and *hcn tiie succeed,
ing horns will bn mure welcome, because unex
pected.
If some are refined, like gold, in tho furnace of
afllictloii, there nro many more that, like chuff, are
Sorrow, when it is excessive,
politicians some artifice and folly, and tin country ! n ' V!> > favour from piety, vigor from action
so much agitation and dishonor. Truly the coun. j 1,eal, b lr ' ml " ,0 b, " l . v - 1, 8 h » lrom rtinson ' aml re ‘
try is sadly metamorphosed. Political ambition ! P 0Mi ' ron> ^conscience.
jx-s things now go, is the vulgar vice of mediocrity ~ . .
of mind, without intrinsic vigor enough to win di,- SoUT0DE.-Pe.hapi.no punishment is greater.
\iaction in any other livid ; hence the miserable j or lmrliBr ,u •>? b ' inic h > - 0 bad mn, ‘ lba " ,0 bu lefl
ihutfliiig, the Nlrifo nnd scramble, which renders j
all the seuts of political power loathsome scenes of
bribery and corruption.
ations in a Trance.—The s ’nwitinns of
seemingly dead person, while confined in the Collin
are mentioned in tho following case of trance : “A
voting lady on attendant on the Prim - ss — ,
after having been confined to her bed for a great
length c.f time with a violent nervous disorder, was
at last, to all appearance deprived of life. Her
lips were quite pale, her face resembled the conn-
fennactt of a dead person, nnd the body grew cold.
She wus removed from the room iV) which she died,
w as iaid in a coffin, and the da v of her funeral fix
ed on. The day arrived, and according lo tho
custom of the country, funeral songs and hymns
were sung before the door.
Just ns tlie people wore about to nail down tho
lid nf the coffin, a kind of perspiration was observ
ed to appear on the surface of her body. It grew
greater every moment, nnd at last a kind
of convulsive motion was observed in the hands
and foot ofthe corpse. A few minutes after, dur.
ing which time fresh signs of returnin'.: ife appear
ed, she at once opened her eyes, and tittered a m< st
pitiable shriek. Physicians were quickly procur
ed, and in the course of a lew days slm was consi
derably restored, nnd is probably alive nt this «’u.v.
’Pile description which she gave of her situation is
extremely remarkable, and forms a curious und au
thentic addition to psychology.
She said it seemed to her that she wns really
dead ; yet >hc was perfectly conscious of all that
happened around her in this dreadful suite. She
distinctly heard her friends speaking and lament-
ing her denth at the side of her coffin. She fell
ilium put on tho dead clothes and lav her in them.
This feeling produced a mental nnxh ty whicli is
indescribable. Situ tried to cry, hut iwr soul was
without power, nnd could not act in her body. Slio
had contradictory feeling as if she were in the bo
dy and yet not in it nt one and same time. It was
equally impossible for her to stretchout her arms,
or to open her eyes, or to cry, although she cm.tin-
u illy endeavored lo do so. The iiitei nal anguish
of her mind was, however, at its utmost height
w hen the funeral hymns were begun t > bo sung,
and when the lid was about to be nailed down.
The thought that she wns to bo buried alive, was
the one that gave activity to her mind und caused
it to operate on her corporeal frame.”
The Resurrection.—Twice laid tho sun gone
down on tlies earth, nnd all as yet was quiet ut tlio
sepulchre ; Deuth held his sceptre o’er the Son of
God ; still and silent tho hours passed on ; the
guards stood by tiicir posts , the rays of the mid.
night moon gleamed on their helmets and on l he it
spears ; the enemies of Christ exulted in their suc
cess ; tiie hearts of his friends were sunk in den.
poiideucy ami sorrow ; while Hie spirits of glory
waited with anxious suspense to behold tho event
—wondering nt the depth ofthe ways of God. At
length, the morning star, arising in tho east, an
nounced the approach of light; tiie third duy began
to dawn on ihe world,—when on a sudden the earth
trembled to its centre, and ^ie powers of Heaven
were -shaken ; an unged of God descended ; tin:
guards shrunk back from the terror of h i presence,
and fell prostrate on tho ground. His counten
ance wus like lightning, und iiis raiment wus white
us snow ; lie roiled away the stone fiom tlio door
of the sepulchre, and sqi on it.
But who is tiiat coinctb from the tomb, with dyed
garments from the bed of deuth? lie that is gio-
lions in his appearance, walking in the greatness
of his strength ? It is tby Prince, O Zion! Chris*
linn, it is your Lord ! He hath trodden the wine
pres* alone ; be hath stained his raiment with
blood ; but now, as the first born from tlio womb of
nature, ho meets Inc morning of his resurrection.
He arises, a conqueror from the grave, he returns
with blessings from tho world of spirits ; lie brings
salvation to tiie sons ofj men. Never did the re
turning sun usher in a day so glorious ! It wa:;>
the jubilee of the universe! Tlio morning stars
sang together, and all the sons of find shouted
alouJ for joy !—The Father of Mercies looked
down from his thronein the Heavens with compla
cency ; bo beheld bis world restored—ho saw bis
work, Hist it was good. Then did the desert re
joice ; the face of nature was gluddeue before
aim, when the blessings of tiie Eternal descended,
the dews of heaven, for the refreshing of tlio na
tions.
; in solitude and darkness, to hold communion with
none but guilty self. It is then tiiat conscience
begins her work, and imagination pictures lo his
mind the horrors of his situation. Then tho pious
A go-between.—There is perhaps no more * admonitions of devoted parent*—the tender soliei
odious character in tho world than u go-between, j unions and entreaties of interested friends, ond|in
Hmt creature who carries lo tiie curs of one neigh- , truth, oil liio precept* ho has received from early
hor every injurious observation that happens to ; infancy, will be brought before the eye of hi* mind,
Irop from tho mouth of another. Such a person | aggravate the loneliness of his situation, and make
is the slanderer’s herald and i9 altogether
odious than the slanderer himself.
A woman’s heart is like a tidd.c—it requires a
beau to play upou it.
him realize the horrors lie bus brought upon him*
self.
Evils.—An aching tooth, an J a crying child in
church* Remedy—take them out.
An honest man need not fear tlio assaults of his
enemies. Talent will be appreciated, industry
will be rewarded,and he who pursues, in any call-
mg, an open,’manly, honest course, must in tho
end triumph over his enemies, and build for him
self a good name, which will endure long after hi#
truducers aro forgotten.
Washington Irving’s health has very materi
ally suffered since his residence in Spain, as wo
tear with regret, from the Paris correspondent of
tho National Intelligencer. Mr. 1* has in prepara
tion a history ofthe expulsion of the Moors from
Spain*