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•t 'A i'k'ftt' r 'P A * ' iAtf "
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From the Southern Literary Messevvtr.
The Viciwsitsiaics of Lire.
Continue'./.
“From tli© first iiour of our intercouse, sprang
an attachment on my part of passionate idolatry,
at whose absorbing character i oft trembled, and
in the consciousness of being beloved, l enjoyed
a bliss too unalloyed to endure. It was bright
summer, and toe fair bride ol th; Adriatic glowed
in renovated beauty beneath the kindling sun
beams. Vet day. in its glare and pomp, its hum
of life, had not for me the seductive charms of
the still night, when iu its starry loveliness, it de
ceuded like a veil upon tn ■ proud city, ‘throned
on her hundred isles.’ r i turn ilia gondola ot An
tonia came to warn me my iiourot Happiness was
nigh. Buried in its mil cushions, gliding
through a path of stars, Antonio th<‘ while breath- !
in* into my ear the voice of song, in his full me- j
lorlious tones, or whispering those impassioned,
half-murmured words, which so beautifully and
tvithchingly clothe a lover's vows, I so yielded
myself to a dream-like happiness, fearful lest a
breath might sever the golden tissue in which i
wrapped invscll.
“On one occasion, wii m 1 had revehed m e
perfection of mv bliss, and the lateness ot tiie
hour admonished us tu see,, the marble steps ot
my uncle’s palazzo—on returning, the sounds of
music arrested ns. and as the tide of melody earns
swelling nearer and nearer, increasing in its deep j
and exquiste pathos, we were aware it 7 ued from
a gondola which wu advancing towards rs. The
low tinkling of a guitar w.ts quite drowned in the
floods of that superb voice, and as tire gondola
neared our own, we discovered the tones winch
ceased not, though they softened as the boat gli
ded slowiv by us, proceeded from a lady, who with
a solitary gentleman and two children w ere its oc
cupants. We could see that the songstress was
beautiful and Iter rounded arm thrown over i tie
guitar, reposed in the bright moonlight with the
polished purity of marble.
‘“Who can they be?’ and ‘I cannot tell,’ were
Scarcely spoken by us before we were at rnv
uncle's palazzo, the other gondola having passed
onwards, the voice of its music melting in thedis
tance.
“It was not many weeks after this occurrence
before my uncle suddenly determined to visit
Naples, and take me with him. Antonio of course
formed one in our party. It was while there that
1 became known to Mr. V and his daughter,
ar >d that intimacy commenced which has been the
solace of my remaining days. Os this acquain
tance, however, I shall speak more hereafter.
“My uncle soon established himself in elegance
3t Naples, and among the first ofour visiters came
Lord Vernon, an Englishman, who, with his
family, was spending the summer in the environs
of Naples. His wife accompained him. and her
bland and courteous manners so fascinated, me,
'bat l accepted an invitation for the ensuing evening
at her house, with a degree of pleasure warmly
by me, and as gracefully received by
her.
“Mirthful music resounded through the noble
balls to which we had been bidden—flashing lights
breathed with incre ising brilliancy ths bright
throng congregated there—the breeze, whose
wings were iaden with the perfume and breath ot
summer, stole languidly through the open win
dows. when we advanced to make our salutations
t( a the elegant mistress of the revel. She imro
uced me to many persons who surrounded her.
00 vacating her seat by my sids, it was irame
dudHy filled by a young Englishman, Theodore
Wallingford, whom l had casually seen at Ve
nic *’, and wiio had advanced towards me on my
entrance, in order to renew our passing acquain
tance. l{p was en dowed with a mind whose rare
nt taioments were only surpassed by his superla
bvely modest and unassuming deportment. In
, e •'are fascination of his conversation l soon
'“catne so absorbed, that 1 was even deaf to the
,r iuutphal air which was waked from the
,r P by a masterly touch, and it was notjtill the
Sw eet exquisite notes, of a rich voice broke on
m year, at first tremulous, but gradually swelling
its delightful melody, that my attention was di
,erte - f r °m any companion. 1 started, fori had
card it before. I could not mistake its music;
! Was 'he voice which had been breathed from
e gondola at Venice; I quickly arose, reques
ts Mr. Wallingford to lead me to the port of the
f ©i whence it issued, and we threaded the la-
FLORENCE, GA. SA r J
byrinth of the crowded apartment, I briefly stated
to him tiie circumstances under which I had
hearkened to its notes before. ‘I am a stranger
here, as well as yourself,’ remarked he, ‘and daz
zled by the bright coloring with which you have
gifted your adventure, 1 am dying of curiosity to
behold your syren; ot course she must be gloriouslv
beautiful, ami but la void,' exclaimed he, as
we reached the circle which encompassed the
songstress, and as it opened to admit us. Seated
at a harp, her white arms thrown around the in
strument, whence she drew such magic sounds,
I beheld a fair girl, who appealed totally uncon
scious of the passionate admiration she elicited
from the listening group. She seemed luxuria
ting in the sublimity of song. Apparently she
was in delicate, health; for her check, though
wearing the roundness of youth, liad none of its
freshness; an air of languor reposed in the depths
of her eloquent eyes, which were brightly, dark
ly, beautifully blue,’ and the long jetty lashes oft
drooped o’er the colorless cheek, like shadows
resting on the snow. She was dressed simply,
and without ‘the foreign aid of ornament,’ save a
gemmed dart which restrained the luxuriance of
the shinning hair, and sparkled with regal mag
nificence in its bed of rich darkness.
“Antonio was one of the circle around her, and
seemed drinking in every tone which was warbled
from th * dewv lips. At this 1 was not surprised,
foi v, iih his natural talent, his cultivated taste,
-itch melody could not but be worshipped. The
wi r the musician was performing, was one of melan
choly, touching pathos, and as it ceased, and she
preparing t<* rise from the seat she filled so graceful
ly, 1 wondered not at the half-playful, half-serious
opposition this mouveinent excited. She was unnan
unously urged to retouch once more the magic
chords, and again she was enthroned the enchan
tress of the group. Sweeping her hand oer the
strings of the harp by way of symphony, there
came a gush of gay, sportive song, full of wild
archness, in striking contrast with the impassion
ed strains so lately breathed. Ere its murmurs
had ceased, ere the sighing of hnrpstrings was
hushed, the songstress had vanished in the tinong.
1 soon learned she was Miss Templeton, a por
tionless relative of Lady Vernon, who filled the
capacity of instructress to her ladyship’s children.
“The harp was a ain touched that evening, but
not by the same ‘cunning hands.’ The lairgouv
ernate appeared no more in toe hails ol revelry
during the evening : but as !. bent over the in
strument she lnd relinquished, and listlessy struck
its chords, through the open window near which
! sat, was borne the music of her peculiar voice,
A'ltwo figures which flitted past in the bright moon
light, disclosed to me Antonio and his lovely com
panion, Miss Templeton.
“Under the guidance of mv prrvr chcvallicr,
Mr. W allingford, 1 now arose to join the mirthful
grout)* which were - clustered here and tlier*
through the walks of the beautihil garden, and
wnose silvery laugh of glee came o'er the ear like
a outbreak of music from the spirit of glorious
night.
“The splashing of a fountain, with its sound of
refreshing coolness, wooed us tow here its spark
ling waters tossed thmnse'ws in the moonbeams.
( 'a the edge of its marble bar-in, reposed the fair,
rounded arm of Miss Templeton, her eyes watch
i r. the glittering spray, which ever and anon
roke beautifully over the hand that seemed in
viting its catecass. As we approached, a rose
dropped from the girdle ot 7l:v Templeton.—
\nfonio stooped to recover the withered treasure,
and as he gallantly pressed it to hi-- kps and placed
it in his bosom, the halt whisn; red compliment
which followed, was wafted towards the spot
where I had momentarily paused.
“ ‘Henceforward,’ said he, in Ins own bland
tones, ‘this is a talisman to me—sweeter tar than
any rose in eastern dimes that nightmg.de e’er
warbled to.’
“She next moment we were beyond the sound
of their voices and the murmur ot the fountain.
A few hours more, and the gau iy pageant vanish
ed.
“During tiie many months ot our prolonged
sojourn at Naples, Antonio, though strictly de
voted to Miss Templeton in public, was apparent
ly happy in our betrothal; for in private lie spoke
with impassioned rapture of our approaching
union, which was to lie solemnized at an early
period after our return to Venice. Thus, it my
tenderness suffered, by seeing him always at Miss
Templeton’s side, when the world’s gaze was on
him, the perfume of his homage and professed
adoration for me, the balm of his ott reiterated
and burning vows, when the gaze was withdrawn,
were not without their lulling influences.
“To say how fete succeeded fete, amusement
crowded upon amusement, were the detail of the
next fleeting weeks. 1 lived more in the future
than in the present; more in anticipation than in
actual enjoyment.
“One morning as we loitered over the breakfast
table, my uncle threw a purse ot gold otwards
Antonio, saying, with considerable asperity of
tone—
“ ‘Since I must, support you in your follv and
extravagance, wonder not that Ido it hesitatingly;
grudgingly; and be not surprised, when I say my
fortune,however ample,must soon be dissipated by
these successive anti exorbitant demands on it.
Your note of last night, while it solicits this sum
towards the discharge of debts which press so
heavily upon you savs not how they have been in
curred. Antonio ’ I have that confidence in you,
to believe they have not been contracted by play !’
I arose ere my uncle paused, and as 1 looked
towards Antonio, ere I left the room, 1 saw that
he reddened to the brow, and that fire played' in
his flashing eye.
“I felt no desire to intrude in the examination
of that course which elicited so sharp a reprimand
from my uncle. I heard their voices high in al
tercation for some time after 1 had retired, but at
length there was stillness, and supposing the
breakfast room vacated, I hastened there for a
volume into which 1 had been looking, and which
I had left there. As I withdrew the rich folds of
the velvet curtain which separated this apartment
from an adjoining one, I started back on behol-
UItDAY, NOVEMBER 3, 2838.
ding my uncle and Antonio still within, and in a
low tone conversing so earnestly, that they did not
observe my intrusion. My uncle’s first words ar
rested me:
‘“Poor girl ! she has then been the victim of a
perfidy as basp and unfeeling as it is consummate
and artful.’ The words that followed were not
heard by me, for they were muttered in Antonio’s
! ear, with an indistinctness for which mv uncle’s
violence of emotion (for lie appeared alarmingly
agitated,) accounted.
“Antonio started from his seat, and with a
threatening gesture exclaimed —'Wat Ire de Dos!
immolate my love my plighted faith, at the shrine
of wealth, of worldly aggrandizement! sacrifice
the pure, fresh affection of a young trusting heart,
to the cold selfishness of a woman whose idol is
pomp, whose worship is lrerself!—never ! never.”
and nsliefiuug himself back on the regal cushions
of the chair, whence he had started, its massive
frame seemed to quake with the tremor of passion
which convulsed him. My uncle passed his hand
slowly over liis eves, groaned seemingly in bitter
ness of spirit, and approaching Antonio, said—
“ ‘I do not reproach you for ingratitude—ldo
not speak of my gifts to you— 1 recall not the
hours of your youth, your manhood, when I ful
filled with yearning affection every office of the
kindest parent-—! appeal not to your duty to me ;
but earnestly, tenderly, imploringly, do l ask you
to think of the heart which has yet never dream
ed of unhappiness, never imagined sorrow—of the
noble spirit which has been nurtured by the very
breath of love—of the young, bl ight form, sprin
ging so gladly in life’s path—ere you bring deso
lation on that heart, contumely on that spirit, the
blighting hand ofgrie. to wither the rare loveliness
of that form. One word more, Antonio, and I
am done. By your extravagence, tny lorUine
is ’
“I heard no more ; hurrying to my room, 1 ap
peal'd no more tha day. I could not doubt 1 was
deserted bv the only being who had breathed life
into the fervency of love my heart held ; and in
the mingled enactions of anguish, pride, indigna
tion. that heart seemed scorched. 1 shed do rears,
but 1 was not the less miserable for that Tn the
silence and darkness of night, while I brooded
over my own wretchedness, heavy footsteps in the
hall and an unusual and confused murmur of
voices aroused me. 1 listened—l heard the name
of Antonio. Breatless, I sped to the top of the
marble staircase. The body of a wounded man
wasborne slowly and heavily through the lordly
hall; the dark blood lripping on the polished floor.
My uncle followed it with astern sorrow. I could
not disguise from myself the fatal truth : it was
Antonio Bandini! and as 1 gazed on his pallid
featares, (for I had deseened to the hall) whose
unearthly hue appeared more corpse-like from the
purple stream which rolled sullenly over his face.
iss*»«* ■■•.imiJiii» iimu a wound in ins head. I
har/ly repressed the shriek which seemed ready
to hirst from me. Almost fainting, 1 leanend a
gaiist one of marble the pillars,as the saeflspeetaete
paised onwards. Ere I recovered, 1 was alone—
n#! not alone; for that soul-piercing, liarrowing
slriek, which met my ear, told me there was other
agony than mine own. A soft, gentle soli, again
lioke the hushed stillness—twining arms were
around my knees—l opened my eyes: for in the
bitterness of sorrow, I had closed them, that no
object might thrust itself between me and the
contemplation of my grief. The fair, clinging
fomi of Miss Templeton knelt at my feet; her
dark hair, in its unbound luxuriance, sweeping
tin cold floor, and bright tears swimming in her
eyis, rendering them even starry in their radiance.
*1 involuntarily shrank from her, tor I felt it
wat to her, in part, 1 owed my wretchedness—-she
had stolen from me the heart I had learned to
love so utterly.
‘“Te.'l me,’ she exclaimed, for the love of God,
tel* me where they have taken him?’
“It seemed she was passing the house as \n
tonio was borne to it, and the rays ot the lamps
filling on his countenance, she had recognised
him, alighted fiotn her carriage, and in frantic
despair, rushed into the hall through which she
had beheld him carried. Iler vehement ejacula
tions continued, notwithstanding my silence, for I
sp»i<e not, in answer to her inquiry. At length
she arose—‘l will ro and seek him;’ and as her
eye fell on the dark spots which marked the pro
gress of the wounded man,she shudder and. She was
passing on, when 1 caught her arm, anil remon
strated—
“ ‘Miss Templeton, what will the world, what
will Lord, Lady Vernon say, if it is known you
are here, at this hour, unattended, and with the
avowed purpose of seeing a gentleman, who at
the most, is only yonrlover?”
“ ‘And what V the world, what Lord, Lady
Vernon to me, when Antonio is dying ? Think
you, lrespect the forms of that world which would
batiisk from the pillow ofan expiring man,but I lose
time,’ added she checking herself—‘every moment
is gofden now.’ Saying, she would have gone on
but I still detained her.
“Miss Templeton, think one moment before
you ldopt (shall l say it?) indelicacy ot conduct.
Antonio is well attended, and your presence will
only tend to agitate and embarrass him. Why
persist in it ? You who are only the’---
“ ‘ Wife of Ids bosom!' interrupted she quickly,
as she shook from her the arm those words had
palsied. My heart’s pulsations seemed stayed—
a cold tremor passed over me, and 1 felt as if tne
earth was sinking, with me on her bosom, into that
abyss where hope never comes. The delirium ot
love fled before the reality of such treachery ; in
dignation nerved my fainting lorm. and with a
pride I sought not to conceal. I followed to his
aparment the one who had avowed his wife.—
Thd apartment, which one moment before I
woud have shunned, 1 now longed to enter. 1
reacted the door, just in time to hear him ex
claim, as Miss Templeton rushed in, passionately
throwing herself into his embrace—
“l/?g earn vita.' His voice was low and very
wea:, but tenderness spoke in those few words so
softy breathed. The stains of blood had been
remived from hiskfece, and his matted hair hung
heaxlv on his tenfyles, contrasting fearfully with
the hueless, deathlike complexion. As my shadow
darkened the threshold, he looked towards me,
and a smile of demoniac triumph broke over his
face—the expression of a fiend crossed liis color
les features. I quailed not beneath it. With that
haughtiness I could so well assume, I flung back
his look; with a contempt which should have
withered his heart, I coldly returned his smile—
and saying, T now leave you to the care of yous
wife, as I perceive she has gained your apartment,’
I passed with unbending pride from the presence
of the heartless traitor, whom I then saw for the
last time.
“When I had departed, tny uncle followed ray
steps, and on his bosom 1 wept tears, wrung from
unspeakable anguish. His affection was now my
only remaining solace, and infolded to his heart, I
inwardly vowed to cherish that affection with un
swerving tenderness. It was from him I then
learned Antonio’s desperate passion for play, and
that the wounds of which he was then sobering,
had been inflicted by one of his reckless associates,
who, exasperated by his own losses, and suspi
cious of Antonio’s success, had charged him with
unfairness. Word succeeded to word—menance
to menance—the cold blade of the dagger was
unsheathed—they fought, and soon exhausted
by loss of blood, Antonio fell. W hile his com
panion sought safety elsewhere, he was bs*ne to
liis home, covered with wounds, and burning with
vengeance.
“From my uncle I also gleamed (though he
had just learned it.) the corroborated intelligence
of Antonio’s clandestine marriage, many weeks
before, to the fair English girl, whose beauty and
song had enchained him from the first moment ho
had beheld her, though the purity of that beauty,
the heavenliness of that song, had failed to impart
their elevating influences to his sordid mind.
“Although mv affection, deep and beautiful,
and trusting as it had been in its worship, was
now changed into contempt and detestation, I do
not say 1 suffered not. All! no ! who that saw
the faded cheek, the lustreless eye, the shrinking
form, could say that grief had not touched them,
and brushed off the gloss and brightness and
buoyancy of youth ! 'To iny religion I resorted
for comfort, but from it 1 received not that peaco
which I had so bitterly proved ‘the world cannot
give.’ Before the dying gift of tny mother, I
poured forth the agony of my spirit; but up
clothed in humility, trusting to that very suffer
ing, and not to the Saviour, I found no consola
tion. During this time, Ida V was mv con
stant companion. 1 veiled from her the tale of
my grief’, tuit my religion was known to her, and
by many arguments she sought to lead me lrom
tire darkness of superstition to the light of that
faith on which ‘the Sun of Righteousness, with
healing in his wings,’ had arisen. My agitated
day that Antonio Bandici, now recovered from
his wounds, sought lus home without my uncle’/* .
house, I was prostrated by the fever which had ,
revelled so long and so fiercely in my veins. Ida
UQw canre dailv, like a messenger ot mercy—the
beauty of her religion seemed waked into voice,
in her meek, gentle, affectionate inanm r and 1 have
often, as with her countenance ot heavenly peace
she moved noiselessly about my sick chamber,
asked myself, ‘can heresy, which 1 have been
taught to despise, grant these sweet fruits, while
1. nourished on the very bosom ot the holy mother
church, almost a fanatic in my zeal for her, am
doomed to suffer without alleviation, without
abatement?’ Then, repenting my munnuririgs,
[ sought forgiveness for them, not grasping the
cross of Christ as my only hope, but trussing in
the rigor of renewed penances, relying on my own
‘good works i’ I will not detain you by dwelling
on the gradual process of tny passage from death
unto life.; !mw I struggled against the effects of
Ida’s conversations ; how 1 strove to convince her
of the fallacy of her own faith, and the heavenly
Ol - ;:i of mv own; how I oft dreamed of reclaim
i * tn. ireretic, wooing her back to the true, fold,
v. Nonce she had strayed, and as often found myself
obliged tort linquish the sweet hope: how at last
the fabric 1 had so proudly reared against the ad
vancement of heresy, the strong hold to which I
had fled forr 'luge from its encroachments, grad-,
iiuliv loitered and sank, while I, its baffled, but
repentant inhabitant, bowed before the superiori
ty of a foe, against whom 1 had combatted so long
and so unavaillingly. My Bible was, after some
time, read with unprejudiced eyes; prayer be
came a source of sacred pleasure; I leaned on
my Saviour for redemption, no longer on my own
weak efforts. Ida saw this change, and the cords
friendship were tightened. Though 1 was nom
inally still a Catholic, she knew 1 possesed many
sentiments in common with herself, and doubted
not I was a pilgrim in the same ‘strait and narrow
way.’
“The few weeks immediately succeeding my
recovery, were fraught with fresh sonow to me,
but 1 did not again sink beneath its accumulating
burden, for an Almighty hand upheld me.
“Mv uncle, who often visited me during mV
illness, seemed always sorrowful. To the ingrat
itude of Antonio 1 attributed this depression, bur
as lie was increasingly sad, as his countenance bore
tire, traces or deep anxiety, I began to suspect
other causes operated to produce his uneasine >B.
M.y conjectures were, however, ended, when one
evening my uncle summoned me to a private in
terview" and at some length, with a quivering lip
and blanched cheek, he told me he was not mas
ter of a piaster! From what I had heard of liis
conversation with Antonio, to which I have al
ready alluded, 1 was inclined to believe the ex
travagant cources of his nephew had involved hiru
in some embarrassments, yet I never imagined he
was inextricably entangled. I scarcely heeded my
uncle, as he proceeded to explain* immediately
how lie had been so suddenly hurled from tho
verv pinnacle of luxury; my mind was engrossed
with another subject: tny part was taken; and as
lie went on to deplore, for ray sake, the necessity
of resigning his magnificent establishment, I
threw myself at his feet, exclaiming, ‘Never, my
dear uncle ! nevpr shall it be said 1 luxuriated in
the splendor of wealth, while otTeyvbtt) had fWowtt
Vol. I.—No. 32.