Rural cabinet. (Warrenton, Ga.) 1828-18??, June 14, 1828, Image 1
VOL. I. PROSPECTUS OF THE Rural Cabinet, Published in TVarrenton , Georgia , By P. L. Robinson. Are not these woods More tree from peril than the envious Court ? And this our life, exempt from public haunts, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, aud good in every thing. Shakespeare. The Rural Cabinet, as its title imports, will be devoted more espe cially to the collection ami diffusion of s ch matters and things as may tend to edify ami entertain those who “ Along the cool sequestered vale of life, “ Pursue the noiseless tenor of their way.’’ But even the Cit, who has not be come too mawkish from a surfeit of politics or the thousand whim whams a Cit is heir to, if lie should find noth ing to “ surprise or astonish,” per chance he may he refreshed with some of the old things whiih were wont to amuse, delight or solace hioi in days gooe-by. As “ variety is the ver) spice of life,” the Cabinet uili con tain a miscellany calculated to join both profit and delight in one, and present a condensed view of the ini prove meats in Agri- allure, Com merce and the Arts, together with an epitome of the signs and tidings of the times, religious and political—and though in regard to the latter we pro fess not to be neutrals, “ In all our strictures) placid we shall lie, As Halcyons brooding on a summer sea.” Theorgina! department of the Ca binet will be enriched with the con tributions of several literary gentle men who contributed to the late Co lumbian Cenlinel , and others who have given assurance* of fliCif f**?dlv countenance and support. The Rural Cabinet will he pub lished, weekly, on a medium sheet, of good quality, in the folio for n, s > as to make a neat volume at the cod of es< h year. The papers of sub scribers in the county will tie forward ed by such conveyance as they may direct, or remain in the office until called for. The papers of distant subscribers will he forwarded, by mail, without delay, (as there are twelve mails which arrive and depart from this place every week,) and eve ry attention will he paid to render their transmission speedy and regu iar. Although the Cabinet will be Issued on a sheet smaller than the pa pers published in our cities, yet when the crowd of advertisements they contain, together with the low price of the Cabinet . are taken into View, It will he cheaper than any now printed in the state. The annual subscription will he three dollars, which may be dis charg'd bv two dollars and fifty cents If paid on the receipt of the first num ber*. No subscription taken for less to ,t twelve “St ritus. Select Tales. THE ORA? GIRL. \ M ariiianne Willis, when beheld in an attitude of meditation, was as beautilul a human being as imagin ation ever drew. Brow, check, lips, just such as a young poet would de light to describe, ami burn to kiss; and her eyelash, with its long dark fringe, shaded an eye that merited a whole Petrarch sonnet; and then b**r graceful form* rounded arm, and delicate hand, each deserved its eut >gium.— But a beauty who cannot Speak, is no more to our intellectual beaux than a statue. Aud yet, Rural Cabinet. where is the great advantage in hav ing the faculty of speech, if it be only employed in lisping nonsense? Per haps the subject has never been con sidered.—[ wi li it might be pro posed for a theme , at some of our col leges; it w f ould doubtless elicit as many new ideas from the young stu dents, as a ‘dissertation on the com parative advantages of Greek ami Roman literature.* Maniannc Willis was called th ‘deaf beauty,’ and she was the onl\ beauty I ever knew, who always turned a deaf ear to her own praises. Yet she was n t insensible to the ad miration she raised; the ardent, on during gaze of those who, for the first time especially, beheld her, always called a deeper gl w on her cheek, and she would cast down her brigh’ eyes, and turn away, exhibiting that modesty of feeling which is so truly indicative of the purity of the female heart. A person born blind, raises, in the beholder, few emotions, save pity. We feel at a glance the helplessness and hopelessness of the ease. It is otherwise when we see those who are deaf. There is usually more an imation (eagerness parhaps. would better express vvliat is meant) in th countenance of such an one, than in that of a person who can There is too, a hiliarity in the smile of the deaf that seems to ask amuse, merit, not sympathy. And then th oddity of their gestures, the quick ness of their motions, the restlessness of their glances, are apt to inspire a corresponding vivacity in the mind of the beholder. In short, we feel | that the spirit of the deaf one is a ]\vakc, and can hold converse with ours, and thus it is much less painful to contemplate a deaf than a blind person. But it was always a positive pleas ure to look on Marianne, or rather I to have her look on you; she was so !lo vely, and her features al ways so lighted up with mirth—it was ti *• till she turned away, anil you lost Mi inspiration of tier soul beaming smile, that the idea of the darkness in which t lie soul must be shrouded, came over yours- The melancholy truth then fell so sorrowfully, that tears, even from firm men, were often the tribute of grief fir her misfortune. Tears —one glance from her laughing eyes, in a moment disspelled them. So was as tiappy as she seemed, as happy H3 she was innocent—she had never known a single sorrow’, or pri vation. She had been tended aud watched over from the hour of her birth, by the untiring, vigilant and affectionate care of parents who l iv ed her a thousand times better for the misfortune that made their wat< litul ness so necessary. They had taught her every thing she could he made to comprehend concerning her duties, and scrupulously did she perform them ; especially in adhering to truth she was so strict that nev -r, even in her gayest moments, did a sign or gesture, intended to deceive, escape her. This charming creature, much more deserving the epithet angelie than the fine and fashionable b* lies to whom it is so often applied, lived in the retirement, then almost solitude, of one of the western counties in the state of New-York. Till she was eighteen, she had never been out of sight of the house in which she wa** born. About that time Marrianne, to the oft repeated and urgent re quest of her aunt, was permitted to visit her and spend a few weeks in Albany. Her* beauty and naivete ot her air, were so exquisite, that hei Warrenton, .lime 14, 1828. • emu e, >l. ■>. iirew, in ilio prole ot her heart, could not resist the tempta tion of introducing the sweet girl to society, and aocompany hm* to places of amusement, although Mrs. Drew had promised she would do neither. M.vs. W ilis had enjoined on her sis ter, not to indulge Marianne in pleas-* ures, which, as she did not know ex isted, she did not n quire to make her happy; hut should she once taste them, tho remembrance might give her a disrelish for those simple enjoy •nents tliitt had hitherto made her bliss. Perhaps it will bo thought her parents did wrong to allow her to go to Albany, ami visit in the fain ily of a fashionable lady. They al ways blamed themselves. And yet, why should they? When people act from a sincere motive of doin t g what, on the whole, they deem right, amt expedient and calculated to give hap pitiess to others or themselves, should a disappointment of these expecta tions involve self-reproach? I think not.— Wo tnay regret misfortune—wr should feel remorse only for guilt; >lrs. Drew should have f.-p remorse, for she was guilty of violating her word—hut she always excused her self from all blame, saying, ‘Who would have thought just going to half a dozen parties, and a few balls, ml once or twice to the theatre, could have b en productive of evil co fc qiiences?’ At. the theatre, Marianne attracted the notice of Captain Hall, a young naval officer, who was on a visit to some friends in Albany. He was astonished, almost annihilated by the charms of the deaf girl, and determin ed to see her again. He was a gay, and thoughtless, hut a generous as well as warm hearted man; and the pity he felt for the misfortune of the girl whom lie was pleased to style ‘divine,’ augmented his passion. Yet lie never dreamed of marrying her— that was entirely out of the question,* hut he wanted to look upon her, to talk about her, and to cjngr >BB. if pos sible, h’T attention. 14 •w is not ac quainted with Mrs. Drew, bit as his r*l vtives were among the Honorahles of he n ( y, ao introduction to her was very easy—Sire was quite as much flittered by tbe bow, and com pliment he made her on his first visit, as lie was iiy the blush arid smih* Marrianne gave him.—Thus th*y were mutually pleased, and he contin ued to call daily, and accompanying Miem in tli**ir walks, and to their parties, always contriving to take toe hand of Marrianne, and who would suppose lie co.dd relinquish it wit 'ut a pressreu? the only way in which he could express a tender com plement. Marianne did not, at first, seem at all pleased with his attentions; and to flatter her by the usual modes, was impossible. She could listen to no praises of her beauty, taste or mind— — but she could feel gratitude for kind ness *s; and unfori unately ascribed to the kindness of Hall, the opportuni ties she now so often enjoyed of visit** ing pl-ices of amusement, and she was thankful for his attentions; and it was not long before, when he pressed her hand, he felt the pressure returned. Mrs. Drew could not but notice the change in her niece. From being cheerful, and testifying pleasure and interest in all she saw, she began to I droop, and be melancholy, except in the presence of Hall. She watched f>r him when absent, she met him with unrestrained joy; and yet she would blush and be offended, if ralli ed concerning him. It seemed she Sad an idea that her love for him must be as secret as it was sacred. Mrs. .Drew saw all tins and yet sfi6 took no measures to prevent Captain flail from associating daily with her ucice. At the expiration of a month, Mr. Willis came for his daughter, but she refused to accompany him home, and the uneasiness she testified when lie urged her to go, made him suspect Something besides the attractions of bet* Hunt's lutuno induced her wittl* to tarry in Albany. After some inqui ries, so pointed and particular Mrs. Drew could not evade them, the father discovered the cause of Marrianne’s tears and emotion. Mr. Willis was a plain farmer* but a man of good sense, and some acquaintance with •lie world; and moreover, be had a thorough knowledge of his daughter’s disposition, fie knew if she could he convin ed that there was no truth in Uie heart of the mail she thought lov ed her, or at least, that he would pay the same attentions to any* otlu r girl* whose beauty happened to please him, Marianne would renounce him at omoo. M*. Williu, thori'fiirr, waited on Captain Mall, and frankly told him the mischief his thoughtless gallantry had caused, and asked of him, as a man of honor, to make the reparation of undeceiving Marrian* ne. *1 admire your daughter’s beau ty and disposition.’ said the impas sioned young man, ‘could she but speak, I should prefer her to any wo man on earth.’ *Yet, as she never will speak, you have no intention id’ marrying her,’ replied Mr. Willis cooly, ‘I ain not intending to upbraid you, sir, any more than myself and sister Drew. W e have all been to blatne, and now that dear Innocent child, who is as free from guile as an infant, must suffer. It is to shorten the term of her uneasiness, that I ask you to un deceive her. The pang of know ing she has been deceived, site must en dure.’ Captain Hall changed color so many time’s, and in spile of his ef forts, betrayed, so much agitation, ! that Mr. Willis was convinced his daughter was not the only sufferer— yet as he knew the young soldier would never marry Marrianne, in deed lie would not have consented that lie should, he deemed it his duly to insist that he should not bo left in any doubt on the subject* Capt. Hall, at length, agreed to what Mr. Willis proposed. A party was made at the house of Mrs. Drew, and while Marrianne watched, with a feverish restlessness, the entrance of every visitor, Captain Hall made his appearance, escorting two very fine ladies. He attended and talked to them all the evening paying no attention, except by a die* tant bow, to Marrianne. The next morning her.eyes were swollen, and her cheeks pale, yet she insisted on starting for home. Her Father con sented. As they drove out of the city, they met Captain Hall, in a carriage, w r itb one of the ladies he escorted the evening before. Mari** anne hid her face as soon as she re cognised him. He turned pale, as lie noticed the action, and stopped his chaise as if to speak* Mr. Wil lis, with a motion of the band, and a look so determined, yet melancholy, that Hall dared not disregard it, bade him drive on.—The carriages passed, and Hall and Marrianne ne ver met again. No allusion was ever made by Marianne, concerning her lover and her parents hoped she would a gain enjoy the simple pleasure of home, and forget the disappointment she had suffered.—But the charm No. 3.