The Georgia mirror. (Florence, Ga.) 1838-1839, May 04, 1838, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

BY GARDNER & BARROW. T2!F OEOUGIA MIRSIOE, !s published every Friday, m Fi-orknck, Stewart county, Ga. at .THREE DODLARb a if paid in advance, or FOUR DOLLARS, if not paid until the end ol the year. Advertisements will be conspicuously inserted at One Dollar per square, (15 lines) the first, and 50 cents for each subsequent insertion. Nothing under 15 lines will be considered less than a square. A deduction will be made for yearly ad vertisements. All advertisements handed in for publication without * limitation, will be published till forbid, an I charged accordingly. Salas of Land anti Negroes by Executors, Ad ministrators and Guardians, are required by law to be advertised in a public Gazette, sixty days previous to the day of sale. The sale of Personal property must be adver tised ia like manner forty days. Notice to Debtors ami Creditors of an estate must be published f>.ry days. Notice that application will be made to the C an of Or Unary for leave to sell Laud and Ne groes, must be published weekly for four months. All Letters o:i business must be tost pvto to insure attention. .~ um 9« i -*-*«r-.« •'• .—-i-T-JX *-i-r ~ «-*n» iLHiaw^ JOB PRINTING. (1 OXXECTED with the office of the 3IIR- J K(JR, is a splendid assortment of And we are enabled to excute all bind of Job work, in tin: neatest manner and at the sheitest notice. &&&&&&» iif every description will constantly be kept on hand, such as IX DTf'TMF.NTS, DECLARATIONS, MI'P'ENAS. .HTR V SUMMONSES, EXECUTIONS. COST EXECUTIONS. SHERIFFS IULLS OF SALE, do DEEDS, LAND DEEDS. JUS. SUMMONSES, do EXECUTIONS, 3VL )R j GA< lES, i. ,:t. admlnistration, do TESTA M ENT \R V, do GUARDIANSHIP, And a jr it many others for Justices of the Fo ice. \ l l;jii• i. r.utora, Executors, Arc. V v . . \ r i »\ VX W*v'> vK- i ls>l\ ..k Jfi 4: > Fro nth Phil i h lphi i ! Woman s smile. Ou ! w hat a dreary waste would lie This jovotts world of ours, If happy hearts, the gay, the free, Had lost their witching powers; Or where's the charm, however bright, Tim: cml ! our souls beguile, With half so s.veet, so soil a light, As that of Woman's smil:; ! Ou 1 Life would bo one joyless dream Os honel rs mess and woe, If ’f.vorc not for the sunny beam Os beautious eyes below; And ill earth’s llow'ra so fair, so sweet, Would flourish but awhile, If iu return they could not meet The light of Woman’s smile ! Then if our hopes of bliss den nil Ou such bright forms of love, W hicli sofrlv with our spirits blend Dear thoughts of bliss above ; A\ iio on this earth could love to rest, (E’en ia this flowery isle) It tint existence be unblest With aught of Woman’s smile! Fro:ii the same. THE VOWS OF MEN. ity t. ii. nviLF.r. Write on Hie'sand when the water is low, Seek the spot vrh *n the waters flow; Whisper a name when the storm is Si card ; Pause the? echo may catch 'he word: It what y m wrote ou 'h : sand should last, lj, echo ;s heard hnid the tempest’s blast; , PUm believe, and not till then, iherc is truth in the vows of men ! I hrow a rose on the stream al morn, M atch nt eve for the flower’s return; Drop in the occau a golden grain, Hope ’twill shine on 'he shore again: me rose you again behold, If you gaze outlie grain of gold,— Then believe, and not till then, There is truth hi the vows of men. j March of Intellect.— Every generation grows wiser uid wiser. A scene in a country kitchen Ohl Woman. —Husband, what are the soil and productions of Michigan ? Bo >/. —Tar and turpentine, mamma. Old Woman. —Hold your tongue you block bead; i wanted to see if your father knew. Quick Match. —Says I. ’Suekey ?’ and 1 winked. Says she, ‘Why John?’ Rut says 1, ‘1 dont menu something, Suekey.’ ‘The deuce, John, you dont ? whit do you mean ?’ *1 mean to ask you >t you will have me? ‘There, dang it, it’s all out at last, liave you ? ‘Yes John and be glad too.’ s ays Suekey ; and so we started off, and had the knot tied about the quickest—and it 1 did’ut teel 1 tinny, then J Lope 1 may be shot, mm QUEEN HORTENSE’S DIAMOND NECKLACE. One morning in the month of June, 1806, the Empress Josephine's jeweller was shown into a little apartment in the Tuiieries, in which Napo leon was seated alone at breakfast. “The necklace mustbeofa very superierkind,” said Napoleon, addressing the jeweller. “1 do not care about the price. Nevertheless, I shall have the jewels examined by a competent judge. Not that i doubt your honesty, 31. Foucier, but because * * * * in short, oecuuse J am not myself a perfect comm: seur. As scon as the necklace is finish .1, bring it tome; and be .sure that you show it to nobody. You understand ?” “Perfectly, sire. Put* sliouid be very glad if your majesty would grant me a little more time, that 1 may be enabled to match the stones perfect ly, one with apouier- Choice diamonds are very rare at present * * * * and they have greatly risen in price.” At these words the emperor looked the jew eller Pull in the face, and rising from his chair, said— “ What do you mean, Foucier? Aon know that since the campaign of Germany you and your brethren are absolutely overstocked with jewels. 1 know it to be a fact, that the French jewellers have purchased all the diamonds offered for sale by the petty princes of the confederation, who have been ruined by rebelling against me. Go to Rapts or Mcileno. '1 hey have literally heaps of diamonds.” “riire, l hope 1 shall not bo under the necessity of applying to any one. '1 lie fact is, that I have now at Lome a superb assortment of diamoucis which 1 purchased for his majesty the King of Pru sia, who has commissioned me to * * “Thru is your hrmir.ess, sir,not mine,” hastily in terrupted the emperor. “But recollect, Foucier, added he, dm litrg;t sardonic glance at the jeweller, “that when you work for me, you are not serving the Ring of J’rusia. * * * Weii, well, I suppose i may depend on you. Do your best, and prove to your brethren beyond the Rhine that v.e can surpass them in your t ailing as well as in all other things.” Axt a sign given 1«y Napoli on the jeweller bowed for the lasi time, and 1 ft the -apartment. lu about a week after Fouticr jv rented to the emperor the mo t magnificent diamond necklace imaginable, ’i lie pattern, the jewels, the work manship of the mounting, al! were pencet. It was quite a chief-d'ecure. Eveu Josephine s in comparable e. i in contained no ornament that could equal it. Napoleon had it valued, and it was de clared to be worth 800,000 francs. This was not more than the price demanded by Foucier, and accordingly the emperor was perfectly satisfied. About fids time, June, 1806, the Dutch people had seated on the throne ot Holland Prince Louis Bonaparte, one ci Napoleon’s younger broth ers. On .the day on which the Dutch ambassador presented the crown of Holland to Napoleon, with the request that he would place it on his brother’s head, ail the French court was assembled at .St. Cloud. Louis and Hortense had arrived that mor ning from St. Leu. Napoleon gave orders that the ceremony should take place in 'lie Satie da Irene; and it was perf.rmcd with extrao id inary pomp a:.d splendour, i fie emperor, who was in charming spirits, announced to the Dutch envoys that on tiic following day iLci;' king and queen would depart for Holland. In the evening Hor t- ncc was informed that the emperor wished to speak with her in liis cabinet; and the usher, when lie threw open the folding doors, announced, for the first time, “litr majesty ti c Queen of Hol land.” “Hortense,” said the emperor, “you are called to rule a brave ami good people. It you and your husband conduct yourselves wisely, the Orange family, with their old pretentions, will never again return to Holland. The Dut li people have but one fault, which is that they conceal, under an outwar,lnspect of simplicity, an inordinate love ot wealth and luxury. The vanity of being rich is their ruling passion. Now, when you go to pre si le in your new court, I should be sorry to hear that you were eclipsed by the vulgar wife of some burgomaster, whose pride lias no foundation but her husband’s bags ut gold. 1 have purcuased a little present for you, which I bag you will accept. It is tliis necklace. Wear it sometimes for my sake.” So saying, Napoleon clasped on the brilliant necklace round the swan-like throat of Queen llontense. He then embraced her affectionately, and bade her farewell. When once installed at the, court of Amsterdam, Hortense did ample honour to her step lather’s present; and ou all state occasions at the Mai son ■ le Hois the splendid diamond necklace attracted general admiration. But adverse fate approached. Napoleon’s sun was beginning to set; and the radiance which it shed on the thrones of Spain, Westphalia, arid Naples, was growing dim. Hortense descended from the throne, as she had mounted it, iu smiling obedience. When her Dutch subjects first be held her, on her arrival, they greeted her with cries of “Long live our lovely queen!” On her departure, they cried, “Farewell to our good queen!” To a heart like that of Ilortense’s this testimony of a nation’s regard aftorded no small compensation even tor the loss ot a crown. From that moment she d'voted herself to the education of her children, and to the consolation of her beloved mother, who, like lierseil, had retired into the privacy of dune,tie hte having a dorned a court.' Still fondly attached to France an 1 devoted to the emperor, Hortense eagerly looked for an opportunity when .“he might efface from Napoleon s mini! the uu j ust prejudices which during his exile to Elba, had been raised against her. That opportunity soon presented itself. The cuauou of Waterloo had ceased to roar, and the emperor Ind been force itu quit the Kly see and to take rofuge at Malmaisoii, the last a bode of poor Josephine Napoleon was there, FLORENCE, GA. FRIDAY, MAY 4, 1833. | not like Charles XII. at Bender, surrounded bv a few faithful officers and servants, but forsaken and lonely, like Kelisurius in the Hippodrome, with no companion but his faithful sword. He was sit ting in mournful comtemplatiou beside a table, on which lay a copy of his second abdication, when he was surprised by the entrance of a lady. He raised his eyes towards her, and recognised Hor teuse. “Sire,” said sh \ in a voice faltering with emo tion, “perhaps your majesty may recollect a gift which you presented to rue at St. Cloud. It is nine years ago this very day.” Napoleon took her hand, ana gazing affection ately on the daughter of Josephine, lie said— “Weil, what have you to say to me ?” “Sire,” she replied, “when you couferred upon me the title of queen, you presented me with this necklace. The diamonds are of great value. 1 am no longer a queen, and you are in adversity. 1 therefore entreat, sire, that you will permit me to restore the gift.” “Keep your jewels, Hortense,” said Napoleon, coolly. “Alas! they are now perhaps the only property that you aid your chiiureu possess.” “They are indeed, sire, liut what of that ? My children v. ill never reproach their mother for having shared with her benefactor the riches which he was pleased to confer eti her.” As Hortense utterted these words, she melted into tears. Napoleon, too, was deeply moved. “No,” said he tr.-uing aside, and gently repel ling the hand which Hortense held out to him. “No, it imrt not he.” “Take i., sire, I conjure you. There is no time to lose. Moments are precious. They are com ing, sire. Take it, 1 beg of you ?” By the urgent entreaties of Hortense, the em peror was at length prevailed on to accept the necklace, and in a few hours after it was sewed lightly within a silken girdle which he wore under hi, waistcoat. About six weeks after this time Napoleon left the Belleroplien to go on board the Northumber land. The [ arsons who accompanied the ex-cm peror, and who had obiained permission to share his exile, were requested to deliver up their arms. Whilst the search of the baggage was going on, Napoleon was walking with Count de Las Cases on tLe poop of the Beilerophon. Aftpr looking around him cautiously, and still continuing to con verse on subjects quite foreign from the cue lie was thinking of, lie drew from beneath his waist coat the girdle in which the necklace vv as conceal ed. Placing it in the hands of his interlocutor, he said, with a melancholy smile, “My dear Las Cases, a certain Greek philosopher, whose name ! think was Bias, used to say that he carried all his fortune about his person, though he had not a shirt to his back. 1 don’t know how ho managed, but I know that since my departure from Paris, i have been carry ing the bulk of my fortune under my waistcoat —I find it troublesome —1 wish you would keep it for me.” Without making any re ply, M. de Las Cases took the girdle, fastened it round his waist, and buttoned his coat over it. It was uot until Napoleon’s arrival at bt. lie: ena that he informed 31. Las Cases ol the value ot toe deposit which' he had confided to his care six months previously. He then told him that it was a diamond necklace,, worth 800,000 francs. On several subsequent occasions Las Cases proposed to restore it; but the emperor declined receiving “Does it incommode you, Las Cases ?” said he. “No, sire,” replied T.as Cases; “but-* * *” “Noiise s , keep it,’’said the emperor. “Can not von fancy it to be ainuL t cr a charm, and then you will find it no annoyance.” About fifteen months afterwards (in Nov. 1815), M. de Las Cases was removed from St. Helena. One day when he was at Lougvvood, engaged iu convers 't o.i with the emperor, a messenger entered and informed him that the English colonel .was waiting to communicate to him something Irom Sir Hudson Lowe. Las Cases replied that lie was engaged with his majesty, and could not at tend the colonel at that moment. “Go, count, go,” said Napoleon. “See what they want; but be sure you return and Amo with me.” Count de Las Cases never beheld the emperor ao-ain. A party of dragoons were already station ed round the house. 31. de Las < uses and his son (who was then very ill), were conducted from Longwood to Plantation House, where they were closely guarded until they embarked for the Cape of Good Hope.' Meanwhile Las Cases still retained the diamond necklace iu his possesion; and this circumstance gave Him not a little uneasiness. Time vas hurry ing on, and he learned that he hail only a few days to remain at St. Helena. He was tormented by tire fear of being compelled to depart without hav ing an opportunity of restoring the treasure to its illustrious owner. W hat was to be done ?—all communication with Longwood was strictly pro hibited. Au idea struck him, and he resolved at all risks to carry it info tfi t. There was an Eng lish officer who had reet atly arrived at St. Helena, and with whom Las (’ases had formed some slight acquaintance, lie had been pleased with the gen tleman! v manners ot tnis Englishman, and tne liberal and generous feeling indicated ir: the little conversation he hud with him. This officer hap pened to come to Plantation House, and (_ omit Las Cases, being left alone with him for a few moments, made him his confidant. “.Sir,” said Las Cases to the officer, who spoke French tolerably well, “1 believe you to be a man of honour and feeling, and I have resolved to ask you to render me a service, which will put those qualities to the test. In the first place, let me as sure vou that the favour 1 am about to request will involve no violation ot your duty; but it deeply concerns my honour, and that ot my fami ly. To come at "nee to the point, I wish to re store to the emperor a valuable deposit which he placed in my hands. V* ill you take charge of it, and contrive some means oi returning it to him ? If you will, my son si: and! seize ;ui opportunity cf slipping it unperceived into your pocket.” At this moment someone approached, and ihe officer could reply only by a look and gesture ex pressive of his assent. Qe then retired to a lit tle distance. Young Las Cases, who was with his lather, had received his instructions, and Queen ilortensc’s necklace was soon piaced in the otfi «,vr’s pocket, uuperceived by any one, though all : i • governor’s staff within sight. But the most dilficult part of the undertaking was yet to be performed—namely, to restore the necklace to its destination. Au interval of two years elapsed ere this could be accomplished. Ail’ter the departure of Count Las Cases, the emperor fancied he could perceive that the sur veillance exercised over him was even mi-re rigid than before. He could not stir out of the house at Longwood without seeing an English officer who, from a little distance, closely watched all his movements. In the morning, in the evening, or at whatever time hr. went out, this same officer was always hovering about him like his shadow. This sort of inquisition was the more annoying, inasmuch as the officer had several times mani fested the intention of speaking to him. The consequence was, that as soon as the empCror saw him approach, he it a rule to cut short his promenade and go in doors. One day Napoleon thought he was much more closely watched than usual, and turning round angrily, he exclaimed, “W hat means this annoy ance ! Can l not come out to inhale a little fresh air, without having a spy on all my footseps?” The emperor walked towards the house, and the officer, who had heard the words wiiich fell from him, quickened liis pace, followed, and overtook Hi in. In a few moments he stood before Napo leon. “Sire !” said lie, in a tone of profound respect, “Be goi:* 1 , sir! be gone!” interrupted Napoleon, ivltli a gesture ol contempt; “there can be no communication between me and your employers ! 1 desire you to be gone !” “Sire!” resumed the officer, with perfect com posure, and without moving a step, “your majesty is mistaken.” He then hastily uttered the words “Count Las Cases—Queen Ilortcnse’s neck lace ” “All! ah !” exclaimed the emperor, stopping short, and looking at the officer—“\\ hat have you to say, sir ?” “Will your majesty,” continued the officer, “be pleased to continue your walk without appearing so notice me. 1 have the necklace here. For the space of two years 1 have constantly carried it about my person, and have been seeking to res to:e it to you. Give me now an opportunity of throwing i> into your hat; for even now 1 cannot venturi'to give it to you, lest I shouldbeobserved.” The cmpeior took oil' his hat and passed his hand ovet liis forehead, as he was in the habit of doing when absorbed in thought. At that instant the officer threw the necklace into the emperor’s liar, and said, in a low tone of voice, “Now i hope your majc :v will forgive my importunity. 1 have fulfilled my mission, sire, and l will trouble you co more. May Heaven bicss and preserve your majesty!” iio then retired, and Napoleon saw no more of him. At tH M-a.l of April, 1821, some days before his death, Napoleon summoned General Montholon to 1.1 1 bed side. “My dear friend,” said, he, in a low tone of voice, and turning liis languid eyes towards the general, “1 have under my pillow a dia mond ncck’aee of considerable value, belonging to Hortense. 1 have lia imy reasons for not letting any one here know that 1 possessed this treasure. It is mv d»siie that as soon as 1 shall breathe my last you take charge of it, and on your return to France (should you ever be fortunate enough to see your native land again, restore it to Hortense. If, as is not improbable, she should die of grief be fore von return, give the necklace to her children, my neplir.vs.” “Sire.” replied the general, overpowered by grief, “1 swear to fulfil your commands.” “I fee! assured that you will, Montholon,” said Napoleon, cordially pressing liis hand ; “now I die satisfied.” The emperor’s disorder was making rapid pro gress. As soon as General Montholon was in formed that ho could not survive more than a few hours, he hastened to liis bed-ride. There, like a watchful s 'ntiiie!, he stood silently and mournful ly awaiting the moment when the august sufferer should draw liis last breath. When that moment arrived, Dr. Antomarchi announced it by the aw ful words, “AM is over!” Montholon then recol leeting his oath, slipped his hand under the pillow which supported the hero’s bead, and secretly re moved the treasure which had baea bequeathed to his i barge. After long and perilous wandering in Amereica and in different parts of Europe, General Montlio lon was at length permitted to return to France. Alter paying a visit to liis aged mother, he set off for Areneniberg, to present to the ex-queen of Hoi! r.id the necklace, which in her eyes was now doubiv consecrated by recollections of happiness and misfortune. Hortense indeed regarded it as an object almost sacred; and she suffered a most painful struggle with I or feelings when, in a mo ment of distress, imperious circninstances com pelled her to part with it. The King < f Bavaria offered to purchase it by the payment of 23,000 frati.'s, si.utled on Hortense. The agreement was ratified, and two years afterwards Hortense ceased to live. The King of Bavaria has consequently paid only 46,000 francs for an object worth 800,- 000. Kings, it must be confessed, sometimes make fortunate" Bargains. This circuinsance serves to explain why the magnificent necklace, the adven tures of which are above related, was mentioned iu the will of tire ex-queen of Holland.— Court. Journal. Mcmnri/. —Perhaps the most remarkable instance on record of the power of memory is one related of William Liar, a strolling player, who wagered a ci i wn bowl of punch that he u ould repeat a Daily Advertiser, a paper then crammed with advertise ments from beginning to end. The next morning, notwithstanding the want of connection between the paragraphs, the variety of advertisements, and the general chaos which goes to the composition of any newspaper, he repeated it from beginning to end without '.ho least hesitation or mistake. Vol. I.—No. 6, From the Philadelphia Visiter. THE LOVER’S QUARREL. “Alas! how slight a cause may move Dissentiou between hearts that love*” "Will the reader please to picture an appart.#.ent in the mansion of Lord Hartly, appropriated to the use of his daughter, the Lady Caroline Alton; her dressing-room, li «as about nine o’clock by the French dial, upon which her eyes were fixed. Her manner was abstracted and serious ; she ap peared to be thinking ot' any tiling rather than what her maid was speaking of, which was, wheth er “my lady would choose to wear pearls tonight,” upou the fourth repetition of which question, the lady turned impatiently, and answered, “Y'es—no —stay ; Ido not think I will go,” and then relap sed'into her previous abstraction. Lady Caroline Alton was an only child ; a great beauty, a great heiress, anda \leetle spoiled. She was generous and kindhearted to all, but capri cious and self-willed to many and among the rest, to one who the least deserved, and wasMhe’lcastdis posed to bear it. The one we speak of was Charles Leslie, a gentleman in the only true sei*e of the term, that is to say, he had a noble heart joined to a clear head ; lie saw the faults of Lady Caroline, and trembled for their future peace, but lie remembered she had not a mother to guide her, and that her father was too much immersed in pol itics, and too proud of her to notice and check her impetuosity ; lie remembered too—but what will a lover not remember or invent iu exteuuatiou of the loved one! lie had known her from a child, and had some time since given her a bracelet in wiiich was set his miniature ; this bracelet was now tire cause ot the lady’s abstraction. Lc siio and liorsclt had met at a party the previous evening and had not separated the best of friends. Among many others of the same stamp who were assembled at tlie party, was a Mr. Mordaunt, one of a race just ly called “butterflies.” who serve by their glitter to dazzle and amusa, but are of no eaitlily use besides, lie was light, vain, and handsome, just such a one as Lady Caroline would like to flirt with oue hour and forget the next; but Leslie » as no admirer of flirting, dud not at all disposed to conquer his dislike iu favour of Henry Mcr daunt and liis “own Caroline.” But to return- Leslie had displeased her about some trifle, so she determined to vex trim by receiving,- not un willingly it would seem, the lia.terics and atten tions of Mordaunt; this had been carried so far the night before, that when encouraged by her manner and glad of an opportunity to annoy Les lie, lie had asked her to waltz, she consented. This she knew was sufficient to annoy him at any time. What a pity love is so selfish a passion ! As is, usual in all cases, one wrong step led to another. In w altzing, Mordaunt must, accident ly of course, have pressed her arm and in so doing unclasped the bracelet which she always wore. Leslie was standing looking on with a very com posed countenance, and a very indignant and an gry heart, when the bracelet fell near his feet; his first impulse was to walk away, but lie repres sed it until lie deposited the ornament in his w aist coat pocket, he then left tHe room, and Caroline saw no more of him for the evening. Fhe re turned home, intoxicated with flattery and proud of her new conquest, but with a vague, restless, uneasy feelim: al her heart. The morning came, and with it visiters in plen ty, but not him who was the most regular, and, to tell the truth, the most welcome of all. She in quired, but no card had been left. She remem bered promising Mordaunt the night before that she would see him at the Opera that night, and she was now hesitating whether or not she would keep her promise, and wondering how Charles Leslie would return her bracelet, or whether it would be proper for her to ask him for it. “It is nine o’clock,” she repeated to herself, “nine o’- clock, and he lias not been all day! lam sure there was not much harm m my waltzing and sing ing duels with Mordaunt, and if there were, it was Charles’ fault; he certainly has a very Lad temper. How stupiid of me,” sho continued, as her maid again reminded her of dressing, “how ridiculous of me to wait, he will be sure not to come now, and it is no consequence to me it in* does not come at all.” But her heart cast back the assertion, and when the next moment a ca briolet stopped at the door, it set her heart trem bling, and her checks blushing in a very onmiotis manner. She heard him enter the draw ning-room, and calling up courage and coolness to assist her, went to join him. lie was standing at a table reading—! most unfortunate —u card from Hcnrv Mordaunt, which he had, for the first time, pre sumed that d.iy to leave at her door. Leslie laid it dow non her entrance. “Good evening Lady Caroline, said he, ia the coldest possible tone. The indy returned the greeting with as cold a bow, she dared not trust her voice. There was a short silence; the gentleman was evidently hesitating how to begin, lie made up his mind at last, how ever, and taking great pains to speak in a calm steady voice, which iu very spite ot him would tremble a iittle, said; “I took the liberty of intruding at this hour. Lady Caroline Alton, as it i ; probable 1 may not have another opportunity previous to my leaving England.” The lady started almost from her seat, but Leslie had been looking quite in a contrary direc tion, and when he heard the rustling of her dress, you might have traced a gleam of satisfaction on his face, but it disappeared instantly on his turning round and perceiving her playing with her dog which lay ou the ottoman at her feet, and paying much greater attention to him than to the haughty geutlemau opposite her. 11c resumed in a much firmer voice. . “Vnur conduct of last evening was quite suffi cient to convince me that I had lost any little in terest I once flattered mvself that I possesed over vour heart; for had uot ihat been the ease, regard lor my feelings, cicn had you none for vour own character, would have forbidden your very remar kable behaviour towards that consumate fool, that; 1 beg your par ® , Madam, towards Mr. Henry Mordaunt. I have to return also a tiiuket which you dropped Vast night whff* waltzing,”