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VOLUME X. (Origina l |)aelnj. Written for the Visitor. TO “ Thy cheek too swiftly flushes: o’er thine eve The lights and shadows come and go too last.” Bweet “ child of song,” what early grief Has left a blot on life’s young leal ? What sorrow has thy fair brow shaded, What flower in thy pathway faded? What idol mouldered into dust, And taught thy youthful heart rfiistrust? What star has from thy sky departed And left thee early, mournful-hearted ? Alas! that Genius e’er should bring ller favored children sorrow’s sting! They, and they only, have the power To find the thorn of every flower! They in the sweetest rose of spring See nought but early withering; And that the butterfly, gay rover, Will live no more when summer’s over. Such thoughts are thine—thou scest decay In all that sparkles round thy way; Thy soul to loftier things is clinging, And earth to thee no joy is bringing. And they who thus are ‘‘set apart” Must ever bear a mournful heart; To them no happiness is given, fame is the only boon of Heaven. Then choose the path before thee now, Laurels ure t wining for thy brow— Wild music iu thy heart is swelling, And angels make that heart their dwelling. Thy radiant eye wild gleam hath caught, As it reflects each passing thought; 44 The lights aud shadows come and go Too fusi” for peace—but be it so. To earth, we know, thou “child of song,” Thou dost not properly belong, llut glad w# here—rest will be given To thee, sweet poetess, in heaven! , “Annie or Beli.eyuk.” liidunond (Jimnty , Geo. MUSIC. BY GEORGE P. MORRIS. The wind-harp has music it moans to the tree, And so has the shell that complains to the sea, Tlie lark that sings merrily over the lea, The reed of the rude shepherd boy ; We revel in music when day has begun, When rock-fountains gush into glee as they run, And stars of the morn sing their hyms to the sun, Who brightens the hill-tops with joy! The spirit of melody floats in the air, Her instruments tuuing to harmony there, Our senses beguiling from sorrow and care, In blessings sent down from above ! Hut Nature has music far more to my choice— And all in her exquisite changes rejoice— No tones thrill my heart like the dear human voice, When breathed by the being I love! Home Journal. TIIE POET LARK. The purple hills are tinged with gold, Tfic evening hour is drawing nigh— And yet, near yonder cloud, behind The lark is soaring in the sky! Why is he there at such an hour? The twilight creeps the vale along, The drowsy bee now quits the flower, The thrush has closed his vesper song. I heard him o’er the waving corn, Herald the dawning of the day: And now, on fluttering pinions borne, He chants its parting roundelay. Hark! how the little minstrel sings, Among the golden tflouds of even, While up he springs on trembling wings, As if his spirit were in heaven. Is it ambition calls him there, There prompts so sweet a song to flow? Ah! no, no, ’tis nil for her Who nestles in the vale below'. For her he mounts the clouds among, For her attunes his melody.— And thus, my love, expressed in song, Is all that I can give to thee! THE DIAMOND MERCHANT. AN EASTERN STORY. CIIAPTER I. In the reign of Sultan Mourad the Second, there dwelt in Stamboul a young man whose name was Ilassan. His father, who had been a merchant of some reputation, died while his son was yet a child; and his mother had lived through the subsequent years of her widowhood without au interest or an affection which did not centre in her boy. Well had the youth repaid the loving care of his last parent; and of ten did the aged Yusnu-gu] bless the Prophet who had spared such a trea sure to her gray hairs. Hassan Effendi was ardent, imagina tive, and high hearted, and was as re markable for his moral qualities as for his personal attractions. As he is the hero of iny story, I must be excused if I attempt his description; and I will 51 Smitljcvn YUcckCilmrnj emb iYUscfUfl'icoits 3 journal, for tl je ijoinc Circle. give it in as few words as possible. To a stature so lofty that, had it not been tempered by extreme grace, it might have been considered almost as a defect, he united the advantages of a noble expression of countenance, and features of the most classical beauty. His dark eyes bad a depth whence, in moments of excitement, the living fire flashed forth with meteoric brilliancy ; and his lip had that curve of mingled scorn and softness which betrays the workings of the spirit without the aid of words.— The turban never hound a nobler brow than that of Hassan Effendi; nor was the girdle of cacbemire ever folded above a more generous heart. Constituted as I have here described him, it will not be a matter of surprise to any that Hassan created for himself a surpassing interest in the breast of the Defter-dar, or Treasurer to the Crown, who soon felt for the young man the af fection of a father. His love was grate fully returned; and it was the more valuable to Ilassan because he had nev er known a father’s fondness. To the affection of a son ho added the rever ence of a protege, and thus deepened the feeling which shed a glow of happi ness over his existence; while his bright est moments, despite his youth and his enthusiasm, were spent in the society of. his [rowerful and partial friend. Thus were things situated, when one of those diplomatic avalanches, which descend no where so suddenly nor so fatally as in the East, overwhelmed the Defter-dar, and he found himself dis possessed of all his honors at a period when they had become habitual to him. Nor was his interest at court the only loss which accompanied his dismission from office—true, his fortune, which was ample, remained intact and uninvaded by the hand of power; he was still sur rounded by luxury and indulgence ; but Iris ante-chamber was no longer throng ed with those troops ot friends who had been wont to crowd it, and whoso at tendance had ever been considered over paid by bis smiles: lie awoke on the morrow after his dismissal, wearied by a night of fitful and uneasy dreams,. only to find himself alone. There is something strange and start ling to one who has been accustomed to a bevy "of adulators—to a herd of sup" pliants—to a throng of obsequious syc ophants—iu finding bis altar suddenly abandoned by the incense-breathing worshippers who were wont to encircle it; and thus felt the Defter-dar. He wandered listlessly and sadly through bis spacious apartments; he laid bis pipe aside, and left bis coffee untasted ; and after a while, be passed into the harem ; but even the smiles of Nefzi-Sabah, bis wife, failed to awaken him to joy. And yet she was the wife of only a few short months, and beautiful as a houri. Gen tle as the “Morning Zephyr,” whose name she bore, dark-eyed as the gazelle, and graceful as a fawn, Nefzi-Sabah found the spell of her loveliness for the first time powerless. As she Sung herself upon a pile of cushions beside the sofa of the Defter dar, and looked up tenderly in his face, a coldness fell upon her heart, and she remained for a while silent; vet even that availed her nothing, for her silence passed unheeded : no fond gaze lingered upon her beauty ; and a tinge of bitter and tegretful surprise mingled with the sigh that hJaved her bosom, as she stretched her jewelled band towardsdier zebec, and swept the chords with fingers as light as the breath of evening among roses. The spirit of the Defter-dar was sof tened by the strain, and he sighed in his turn: but,alas! the sigh was not for Nefzi Sabah; for as his troubled thoughts resolved .themselves into calm, lie remembered Hassan ; and, while the beautiful Circassian was breathing out a lay of love, he was mentally expatia ting on the delights of friendship. “Os what avail,” be asked himself, “ have been the toils and the intrigues of years? Os what value have been MADISON, GEORGIA, SATURDAY, AUGUST 30, 185 G. the false vows of the time-serving herd who have followel in my path ? The toils have withered me—the intrigues have blighted me—the flatterers have proved false—the gaud and glitter of court favor were the suulight in which they basked, and they have no time to shiver in the shade of disappointment. Now is the moment to revengo myself on fate, and to make the lure of ambi tion yield to the'ealm impulse of fiieud sliip. lam no longer the favorite of Mourad, but I am still the friend of Hassan ; and what is the possession of power compared’to that of one honest .heart ? AYhon the storm rages, the surf is scattered upon the shore; but the jewel which is hidden in the depths of ocean is unmoved by the tumult of the billows.” With this consolatory reflection the Defter-dar concluded his reverie ; and) as the smile of recovered complacency rose to his lip, Nefzi-Sabah ceased her song, and smiled in her turn at the suc cess of. her fond experiment. Nor was the stoical composure of the ex-courtier subject of surprise to those around him. Every Turk is aware that (he same hand which beckons him to a Pashalik can also twine the bowstring about liis neck ; and he accepts the ono with as much outward composure as he submit to the other. Even beggary, suddenly as it may come upon him, fails to wring a murmur from his lips, lie looks upon worldly advancement and worldly possessions as mere transi tory benefits, and the grave as the great and certain end of all; and, unlike the theoretical European, who, admitting the same belief, nevertheless acts as though they were the supremo good— the Alpha and Omega of all created be ings—the Mussclmaun, instead of term inating his reverse with a pistol or a razor, or supporting them at best with a dogged and sullen despair which places him beyond the pale of future exertion, and atrophises the energies of all who are dependant on him, calmly resigns himself to a fate which lie had not pow er to control, and makes the best of that which still remains. The Defter, dar was wealthy ; he yet possessed the means of tranquil, and even costly en joyment ; the substance was untouched, it was the shadow only which had pass ed away ; and, under such circumstances, no Turk would arrogate to himself the right of complaint; or deem that he could be an object of commiseration. It was a time of festival, the Rama zan was waning to a close—the morrow was the feast of the Bairam ; and the Defter-dar ere long quitted the women’s apartments, in order to prepare the presents which at this peiiod, it is cus tomary to distribute among the mem bers of the household. As the ex-courtier turned a hasty glance on the many gifts that lav around him, each enveloped in the boksha or handkerchief in which the offering is made, ho could not repress the rising scorn which grew out of the memory of past years, and the conviction that the link that now united him to those who were about to share his bounty, was one of interest, not love. But the feeling passed away, as his eye lingered on the costly gifts prepared for Ilassan ; and, with unwonted earnestness, he once more unfolded the boksha to assure him self that the present was worthy of his love. A shawl from the looms of Cach emire, whose priee would have ransom ed a province, concealed amid its folds a Damascus dagger, and a pair of dia mond-studded pistols; and, as the Def. ter-dar replaced the weapons, and refold ed the handkerchief, ho put into the hands of a trusty slave the precious of fering of frienship, and turned away with a calm brow and a cheerful spirit But the cup of disappointment was not yet drained to the dregs, and the Defter-dar was fated to imbibe the draught even to the last drop. Eager to expedite the work of bounty, the slave loaded himself with as many packages as he could conveniently car- ry, and hastened on his errand. Nu merous were the greetings which await ed him as he passed on; and each chance-passenger whom he encountered on his way grasped his hand in fellow ship and congratulation, as is customary at this solemn feast; cannon boomed along the Bosphorus; the distant sound of music came upon the wind ; and the good Mussehnaun, excited and preoccu pied, hastily placed in the possession of one of the impatient expectants the sumptuous gift destined for Hassan ; and then unconsciously pursued his way to the and welling of the young Effendi. Hassan, meanwhile, suffered far more at the misfortunes of his friend than the Defter-dar himself. The ex-courtier was no longer in the first rush of youth ; he had attained to the age when, des pite all circumstances, a certain degree of philosophy is forced upon every man. lie had sufficient experience to perceive aud to appreciate the hollowness and un certainty of worldly honors, and a mind energetic enough to turn to nobler means of consolation. But Ilassan was yet in the fresh years when (he dew of hope falls plentifully on tlio wayside of existence, and calls up a thousand bright tints from the wilding flowers which blossom there. lie had not yet learnt the useful and care-taught lesson of self-examination and self-government, lie could not comprehend (ho possibility of casting aside worldly distinctions, and replacing their glitter hy the more so cial possessions of fellowship and regard, lie had ever looked upon tlio Defter-dar as upon one horn to authority and trusti and lie could not, in the first rush of fueling-, disentangle those attributes which had so long been blent in his imagina tion. To say that ho pitied the individ ual were an error—lie only mourned the evil; for he regarded his friend with the same honoring eyes as when lie moved in pride and power. “The sun,” sai l Ilassan, in reply to some observa tion of Yusnugul, liis mptlier: “is still (he sun, (hough clouds may have passed before it. Who shall dare to lift an irreverent look to the glorious orb, or to deride its want of light, hecauso the vapors of the morning have overshadow ed it?” “ The Defter-dar,” retorted the aged woman, as she resumed her pipe, and deposited beside her cushions the hag of embroidered cacbemire containing (lie scented tobacco with which sho had just replenished it; “the Defter-dar has still the heart and the hand of a prince ; and fear not ” “What should I fear?” exclaimed Ilassan, his dark eyes flashing scorn at the inference of his more worldly-minded mother; “ Masballah ! have I loved him only for the riches with which he has loaded me ? Have I been bought at a price? l)o not even you know me bet ter? I tell you, mother, that the world holds not the being who shall ever rend away my heart from the Defter-dar; he has been a father to me in affection, a friend in trust, a protector in munificence. He only can undo the work of his own kindness; and while ho still loves me, nothing shall part us, though all the ills of life should accumulate around him.” The word had scarcely passed the lips of the excited young man, when a slave of Yusnti-gul’s harem stood slipperless at the door of the apartment, holding in her hand an embroidered boksha, which she laid at the. feet of Hassau as the gift of the Defter-dar; and then, re treating a few paces, she crossed her hands before her, and awaited in silence the orders of her lord. With an eager hand and a throbbing heart Ilassan prepared to unfold the handkerchief; and Yttsnu-gtil raised her self from her recumbent position to feast her eyes on the costly present which her son was about to reveal. It was not the expectation of acquir ing anew and valuablo possession which agitated Ilassan as he threw hack the folds of the boksha: it was the con sciousness that the gift offered on (he occasion of the Bairam is always in pro portion to the degree of regard in which the individual to whom it is offered is held bj the donor; and his dismay may consequently ho conceived when the handkerchief delivered up its contents. The blood mounted to his brow, and the fire flashed from his dark eyes, as he dis covered their nature—a shirt of the stuff worn hy the boatmen on the Bos phorus ; pantaloons of the common ma terial used hy the peasantry ; a shawl whose coarse folds were meet only to hind the forehead of a glicz median, or domestic slave. Such was the present which had been tendered to the hitherto favorite friend of the Defter-dar! For a few moments the young man remained speechless ; and that brief space sufficed for a thousand comments from Yusnu gul. “Shekiur Allah—Praise be to God!” sho exclaimed; “we are not yet so sunk as to need such courtesy as (his! Is the Defter-dar become a divane, an idiot, or does he take you for (lie son of a laborer, that he sends you garments fitting only for a slave 1 Sen click adam, you are much of a man, if you hear (his without complaint!” But Ilassan answered not. lie sat wf(h liis head bowed down upon his breast lost in thought; until, as the in dignation of his mother became giad ually more loud and less measured, lie roused himself, and replied in a broken tone : “Enough of this. I have read the meaning of the Defter-dar—he is lord of his own will, and I have no right to condemn him for its exercise. All the world lias changed to him ; and he is free in his turn to change to me.— It is his own fiat which separates us. May lie find another heart that will cling to him as fondly and as faithfully as that of Hassan would have done had lie not spurned it from him!” A gusli of tears followed the words ; and hastily flinging from him the wad ded covering of tlio tandour* beneath which ho had been sitting, the young man folded his pelisso about him and rushed into the street. He had need of the keen cold air that was blowing from the Bosphorus to relieve liis labor ed and painful breathing, for his agony suffocated him. “All save this, I could have borne,’’ lie murmured to himself, “ hut to be ranked among his menial servants—to he put upon a footing with his slaves— to he tacitly taught that lie holds me as lightly as any other varlet whom he lias bought with gold—this only I can not hear. 111-fated Ilassan! to have hut one friend, and to lose him thus!’ For hours did the young man wan der about the city : lie heard not the busy hum of the streets; lie heeded not (he brightest eyes which flashed upon him as he passed, from beneath the jealous ya.shmac ;f lie returned not the greetings that were addressed to him by liis ac quaintance, nor the idle jests of which he was the subject. His mind was ab sorbed by one engrossing idea ; and at intervals he mentally repeated, “HI fated Hassan ! to have hut one friend, and to lose him thus!” In this dark mood of mind the young eftendi turned aside from the streets, just ns twilight was boginning to thicken around him; and entered one of the cemeteries of the city. The night-wind was already sighing among the tall cy presses that overshadowed the graves, and the turbaned head stones gleamed cold and ghastly through the gloom. In the distance, the illuminated minarets looked like fairy palaces hung in mid air ; the world without was brightened by festivity, and loud with revel—llas san felt as though it were a bitter mock cry ; —and while he lingered among the damp graves, he congratulated himself in the darkness of his spirit that he was alone; and in the fervor of the feeling be exclaimed aloud, “Yes; they too must run the same career of cheating affection ; but as yet they are happy— * A wooden frame, containing a brazier of heated charcoal, and overlaid with silken cover lets. t Veil worn by Turkish females in the street. for them the veil is unrent, and they deem that all men are truth—hut I am unde ceived. Inshallah—l trust in God! I have drained my draught of bitterness, and the cup is empty. 111-fated Hassan! to have but one friend, and to lose him thus!” “And what avails friendship at your bright age, eftendim ?” murmured out a low voice close besido him, as a small hand was laid lightly on liis aim : “Bosh der—it is nothing. Friendship is for the gray-beard and the dotard; but your beard is yet black as the midnight cloud, and your wit keen as the dagger in your girdle—friendship is hut (he dregs which life offers to the aged when youth lias drivned the draught—friendship is the cold resting-place of satiety, when pas sion has extinguished the flame of its fiery car, and swept onward on dusky wings into irrecoverable darkness. You are not formed for friendship—the spring sun does hut light up the flowers : the fruits of autumn require a fiercer beam, 'l ou are like one who hungers at a feast, because he lacks enevgy to stretch forth liis hand.” “ M ho are you ? and what wonld you with me?” asked Hassan, gloomily. “ I am called Feleeli-so,” was the re ply ; “and I ask of you only to be just to yourself; the bnlbul amid its sorrows has its rose—it murmurs not to the winds of heaven without one fond ear (o listen; (here is a charm even in grief where it awakens sympathy. But the brightest eye will grow dim with tears, and the smoothest brow become furrowed hy hitter thought; and thus the young and the quick-hearted do well to trample care beneath their feet, ere it becomes too strong to he overmastered.” “Yours is joyous philosophy; affiet ollah—much good may it do von;” said Ilassan with a scornful smile, as he bent down to take a closer view of his com panion, interested in spite of himself in the singularity of tlie adventure; “ hut a man must he a fop or a stoic who pro fessses it.” “ And wherefore ?” asked the low, soft hut somewhat mocking voice: “the sto ic of three and-twenfy bids fair to change liis creed at fifty for one less stern. Has san Effendi, if you could only look on me, you would believe me.” “ You know me, then ?” said the young man, with astonishment. “ Know you V’ was the laughing re joinder ; “ who in Stamboul knows you not? Those who may not gather the rose are, nevertheless, not forbidden to look upon it.” llassan listened more complacently. “I have tracked you for the last hour: I would faiu save you from yourself. You are cursing your constellation, when you are, in truth, your own worst enemy. Move a few paces onward, into yonder spot, where the reflection of a cluster of blazing minarets almost cheats the eye into a belief of daylight. I will detain you but a moment, and yon shall then bo free to aet as you deem best.” llassan involuntarily obeyed; and, as he followed closely on the footsteps of his strange guide, he was struck with the lightness of her movements, and the graceful undulations of her slight figure; but when they had at length reached the spot which sho indicated, and she withdrew her yashmac, and revealed to him the loveliest face on which he had ever looked, the breath came quicker, and he demanded hurriedly : “ llow said you that you were called?” “ Felech-so,” murmured the low voice. “And you are rightly named!” ex claimed tbo excited young man; “ for your constellation must, indeed, bo ever in the ascendant. Speak ! What would you 2” “Effendim, I have told you all my errand. I would fain call back the smile to your lip and the light to your eye. Our moullahs may prate to you of prayer —our pashas of power—our merchants of gold—l promise you all of these, if you care to mend your fortune. And now, follow me on the instant, if yon will; or bid me farewell at once; for, if we NUMBEB 35. part to night, we part forever. lam a Turkish woman; the sun has set, and 1 am yet abroad : none, save yourself, must look upon, or dog me. llow say you ? Will you confide in me ? Can my smile lighten your grief? sen bilirsen— you know best—it is for yon to decide; will you trust to me?” “ Instantly—eternally.” “It is well,” said Felech-so, as she re-- adjusted her yashmac, and drew her heavy cloak more about her—“ I sball lead you by by-paths and unfrequented streets: follow me at a distance; ami wligd you see me enter the dwelling whither I am about to conduct you, the door will be left ajar, and you may safely pass the threshold.” “ Stay yet a moment,” murmured' 1 llassan. “ And wherefore, Effendim ? When once we have left the public streets, and that the same roof covers us, shall I not 1)0 free to fill your pipe, to hand your slippers, and to serve your coffee? Will not the music of inv zebec be softer than the distant murmurs of the city ? and the glances of your slave be more daz zling than the glare of many torches ¥?' llassan insisted no farther; and in tbo next instant bo was following the short and rapid steps of his new acquaintance through by-ways hitherto nnknown to him. At times ho caught glimpses of the Bosphorus, basking in the reflection of the myriad lamps of the hill-seated cityat times he left it far behind him,- to follow the ascent of some steep and narrow street—hut he hesitated no lon ger : and, after the hurried walk of an hour, during the whole of which time be liever once lost sight of his mysterious guide, he saw her pause an instant at the portal of a stately building whose vast" shadow lay long upon the earth, and then disappear across the threshold. In the next moment he stood on the same spot: the door, as he had been fore warned, remained, ajar; be pushed, if gently hack, strode through the portal, and found himself in a spacious and cov ered court, lighted only by one dim and! flickering lamp. llassan stood for a while in some per plexity, and not without a passii g suspi cion that treachery was intended towards him ; when suddenly a black slave, hab ited iu a rich costume, who bad evident ly been awaiting his arrival, seized him by the hand, and drew him forward, llassan was neither of an age nor a tem perament to yield slavishly to fear; yet as ho was hurried onward through dark passages, and dragged up one flight of steps and down another, where the deep silence was broken only by his own foot falls and those of his conductor, a vague apprehension of evil grew upon him but it was by this time too late to recede, for, even could he have escaped from his companion, and bad no resistance been offered to his retreat, be was conscious that he should be totally unable to re trace his path : and under these circum stances ho resolved quietly to follow up the adventure, terminate as it might. Having come to this decision, he be stowed undivided attention on the move ments of the slave who conducted him; and soon became convinced that, al though the building into which he had been introduced was extremely spacious, he had, nevertheless, trodden the same. • ground more than once—a circumstance which proved that, whatever might be the motive of its owner, the intention 1 was evidently to mystify him as to its formation and extent. Not a glimpse of light had he encountered since he quit ted the court; and,as a door immediate- - !>' front of him suddenly fell back, llassan involuntarily pressed his open palm upon his eyes to shield them from a glare which almost blinded him. Peals of ringing laughter, and the glad sounds ot many zebecs, mingled with the joyous voices of women, burst upon bis ear; and, as lie hastily withdrew bis baud, the light form of Felech-so detached itself from a group of yourrg beauties, as fair and bright as houris, and approached • him with a bounding step.