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j)Y GARDNER & BARROW. X!SE (iSORIR l 7IIKROR, j s published every Saturday, in Florence j ,'tevrart county, Ga. at J?HREE DODLAUS a j v ,. ir jf p;uil in advance, or FOUR DOLLARS, j f „ot paid until the end of the year. \.)VI r, risEMENT.s will tie conspicuously inserted ! atone Dollar per square, (15 lines) the first, and •) cents for each subsequent insertion. Nothing ii r,„pa will be considered less than a jin ler i j | ia’ e. A deduction will be made for yearly ad vertisements. VH a-tverfisem-nts handed in for publication without «limitation, will be published till forbid, and charge I accordingly. >»f Lan l and Negroes by Executors, Ad ministrators an I Guardians, are required by law advrtise l in a public Gazette, sixty days previous r > lire day of sale. q’ir sale of Personal property must be adver tis'd in like manner forty days. Notice to Debtors and Creditors of an estate must be published forty days. Notice that application will be made to the Court of Ordinary for leave to sell Land and Ne must be published weekly for four momhs. 7® All Letters on business must be } , iir > to insure attention. •t 'A i'k'ftt' r 'P A * ' iAtf " '*7' ■ \ * 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.