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Dniofcii to Citcraturc, Bcicnce, anb Art, tljc Sons of temperance, oi>i> jTelloroslpp, ittasonrn, anb General intelligence.
VOLUME I.
SOIfRf.
THE WANTON SUN BEAM.
I cam-? upr>n her quickly ! She was sitting
Upon a bank embrowned in the shade :
AH round about, the sun brums bright were flitting,
But did not dure to coma where she was laid;
But. like some gleaming guards about a portal,
Who witch,, but yet to enter are afraid,
So they, as angels around a mortal,
Did keep around and guard that lovely maid.
But one bright sun-beam pierced the twilight b nver ;
He thrust aside the leaves that made that shade;
And softly, as the zephyrs touch a flower,
He fell into her arms and o'er her bosom stray’d :
And wanton kiss’d her cheek, her lips, her hair, —
“Oh, love!” I cried, “that I-a sunbeam were ! ”
THE TRUE HEARTS ASPIRATIONS.
I would be thine !
Oh, not to learn the anguish
Os being first a deity enshrined,
7’lien, when the fever fit is past, to languish,
Stripp'd of each grace that fancy round mo twined !
Not such the lot I crave !
I would be thine !
Not in bright summer weather,
A sunny atmosphere of joy to breathe ;
But fear and tremble when the storm-clouds gather,
Aud shrink life’s unrelenting doom beneath,
Failing when needed most.
I would be thine !
To lo3e all selfish feeling
In the sole thought of thee, far dearer one !
To study every look thy will revealing,
To make thy voices ever-varying tone
The music of my heart.
1 would be thine !
When sickness doth oppress thee,
With love’s unwearied vigilance to watch
Waking—to soothe, to comfort, to caress thee;
Sleeping—to list in dread each sound to catch,
Th\* slumbers that might break.
I would be thine !
When vexed by worldly crosses,
To cheer thee with affection’s constant care,
To stay thee ’neath the burden of thy losses,
By shewing thee how deeply thou art dear, —
31 ost so in the distress,
I would be thine !
Gently and unreplying
To bear with thee, when chafed and spirit worn,
The hasty word, the quick reproach, denying,
But by the soft submission which is born
Os stedfast love alone.
I would be thine !
My world in thee to centre,
With all its hopes, cares, fears, and loving thought;
No wish beyond the home where thou should’st enter,
Ever anew to find thy presence brought
My life’s best joy.
I would be thine !
Not passion's wild emotion
To shew the, fitful as the changing wind ;
But with a still, deep, fervent, life devotion,
To be to thee the help-meet God designed —
For this would I be thine !
O&ISIIAi fill Ji
Contributed by the Author.
NIGHT AND SUNSHINE;
OR THE ODD FELLOWS CHRISTMAS GIFT,
( Concluded.)
CHAPTER V.
Like angels of mercy came the blessed visitors
to .er domicil, and the soothing news of her
aughter s safety and comfortable situation now,
so \\rought on her feeble powers, that she swooned
ln 1 ie revulsion of her feelings, but soon partially
restored by the kind ministering of her guests,
, lss Linton was left by her brother, who went to
o Rain such requisites as he saw absolutely nec
essary, and with the intention of summoning med
joa aid for the exhausted woman —but without
, lntl "S latter particular to his sister. In
uced by Miss Linton, Mrs. Arden now consented
l? 6 er en^ee l ) l et l f° rm upon her couch,
erc ’ before many moments had elapsed, nature
and she fell into a heavy though
yeuneasy Humber.
eil me b Eug©ne ! ” said Albert Linton, some
time after to a young physician, who chanced to
pass by as he emerged from the third undertaker
he found necessary to visit before he could obtain
one unoccupied and willing to attend the inter
ment of the widow Arden, “ I have already been
waiting fifteen minutes your return to your office.”
“ The deuce you have! and on this inclement
night.” “ Well, I’ve a little news for vou,” inter
rupted Hamilton, “I have just left Arden, the
poor fellow is down again.”
“ You don’t say so! why I thought he was en
tirely convalescent, and being occupied, I’ve not
visited him for a few days. I trust he has not
seriously relapsed.”
“ If he fails to discover those he is in quest of
I fear indeed it will prove so ; as you have taken
so much interest in him I will, spite of this con
founded nor’-wester, that sets my teeth to clatter
ing like castanets, tell you briefly his story, espe
cially as it smacks of romance. You know how
he raved in his delirium about his family. Well,
as soon as he could at all collect bis scattered sen
ses, 1 wrote to his wife for him, he being unable
himself, but fortunately made out to superscribe
it as he said “not to alarm them.” Full tilt
comes back an answer, from an old friend of Ins,
that as soon as his wife and daughter had, by ac
cident, learned his misfortune, they had so precip
itately left for Baltimore as not even to withdraw
some money from bank, which it seems bis wife
possessed ; this, by her written request, he was
enabled to procure for them after some delay, and
had only mailed it the day previous to his finding
a letter in the Post Office, addressed to Mrs. Ar
den, knowing it to be her husband’s hand writing,
and aware from his wife’s letter of her distress
in not being able to find him, he concluded, in
the hope of its informing of his residence, to
open it, and finding his surmise correct he had
written immediately again to Mrs. Arden, of the
direction. The letter containing the money,
some few hundred dollars, Arden obtained from
the Post Office, provokingly, neither gave any clue
to find his wife, the superscription being merely
“Baltimore,” with her name ; now he is as much
in the dark as ever, and half wild with anxiety,
he has, for two days past, been searching for his
family at every bearding house, hotel, and most
likely places for them in vain, besides running al
most hourly to the Post Office, his only rational
hope, to see if any persons have enquired lor her
letters ; and now the fatigue and depression of
his ill success, along with the inclement weather,
has again prostrated him.”
“Poor fellow! his case is truly pitable, to
morrow we must assist his search ; but bless me,
here we are chatting, and a poor woman all the
while needing your assistance sorely, from exces
sive weariness and privation. Do for charity’s
sake call on her as speedily as possible ; you will
find her in street, fourth house from
street, as it stands isolated, } T ou cannot fail to find
it. Will you go?
“Can you doubt it? although I must confess I
rather would prefer going to a warm bed than visi
ting past midnight, in such a storm; but what
must be, must —good night.”
“ Good night till I see you for I shall return
there directly, myself, but hark ye ! Eugene, be a
man —nay, nay ! you’ll discover my meaning be
fore morning—so au revoir ! ” cried Albert to the
young physician, who was already on his way,
whilst he returned to his home for the purpose ol
obtaining such articles as he deemed necessary
for the house of mourning.
CHAPTER VI.
“Past one o’clock ! ” cried the watchman, on
his round, and the blast moaning dolefully as a
funeral knell, bore the solitary stroke to the anx
iously waiting watcher by the corpse, drearier
vetbeat the hail against the casement, and hoai&er
and more fearfully rang the insane laughter o
the idiot, plying the wreathing of her long fingers
vet more industriously, and glaring with her nvet
ted and stonedike gaze, ghastlier than the glazing
SAVANNAH, GA.. THURSDAY, APRIL 19, 1849.
orbs of the dead over which she bent, on the heart
freezing maiden.
“ Oh ! I shall go stark mad if Albert does not
come—cried Mary Linton in a paroxyism of ter
ror. 1 must. —must awaken the poor sleeper then,
and as, wild with fear she was about to rise, a
slighfknocking was heard at the door —-joyfully
throwing it open she exclaimed, “O! I’m so
glad you have come. I’ve been frantic with ter
ror since—bless me ! you here Dr. Hamilton, I
thought it was my brother.”
“ What, yov here Miss Mary, 4 ’ responded Dr.
Hamilton. “ Your brother did not inform me of
the atuiel I should find, like a rainbow in the
storm, ministering to the suffering woman I came
to visit —bv his direction.”
“ A truce to compliments Doctor, or perhaps I
might express some admiration of your prompt
benevolence. I have persuaded the poor sufferer
to rest, and you must judge Sir, if it be expedient
to wake her.”
“By no means, Miss Linton, as you perhaps
can give me all necessary information.”
This she did as well as her scanty knowledge
itself allowed, not even knowing the name of the
family she succoured ; by their united exertions
the insane girl was partially quieted. And as
Dr. Hamilton watched Miss Linton, now relieved
from terror, soothing the restless idiot, the feel
ings, which hertofore had been of intense admi
ration, now upproached idolatry, and no longer
could he restrain the impassioned current. Were
not the words of true love holy, we would follow
their speaker, where,by the side of suffering, in
sanity and death, as the crystal flood burst through
the dark and loathsome caverns its unstained
waves, he poured forth in all the eloquence of
love the avowal of his passion. But we would
not desecrate with an unhallowed touch the mys
tery. Too soon was the lover interrupted by the
clattering of the carriage, and in a moment the
door was opened.
“ A merry Christmas to all here,” cried Albert
entering, “ for midnight is past,” (truly was it)
and with a mischevious glance towards his sister,
“ I see you have found your patient Doctor —here
I have brought you another, who would not re
main longer away.” So saving he would have
handed Caroline to the fire, but without pausing
she was hastily moving to her mother, wnen the
Doctor interposed his orders, that she must not
disturb her. Lightly imprinting a kiss upon her
cheek, the daughter turned with a tear quivering
in her eye, veiled beneath the downcast fids that
shadowed more of soul than lives beneath the
Psyche’s, and with a voice tremulous with mod
esty and emotion, so falteringly poured out her
sweet gratitude, that the gentleman in very admi
ration forgot her embarrassment. But Miss Lin
ton with the exquisite tact of woman, appprecia
ting her worth, hastily interrupted her, and throw
ing her arms around her waist drew her to
wards the fire. How exquisitely beautiful did
those two fair girls then appear to their young
companions. One with the splendid beauty of
theAmryllis, the perfect loveliness of the Cam
melia Japonica. The other, delicate and lovely
as the Harebell or Hybiscus. Have you ever
watched the setting sun, when the purple west
turned all to burning gold in the gorgeous radi
ance poured from his regal urn ; and then cast
ing the eye a small space upwards, beheld the
cresent moon, like a pure shell of pearl trem
blingly and chastely floating through that ocean
of magnificence ? Such may have thought Al
bert Linton or Eugene Hamilton, a siting emblem
of those lovely maidens.
Having thoroughly warmed herself, Caroline
was now permitted to retire for the purpose of
placing the afflicted girl to bed, on whom it was
beautiful to see how her presence acted, like oil
on the troubled waters, for in her hands she be
came tractable as a child. Having left her asleep
she returned to the watchers —they not being able
to induce her also to retire.
The cloak worn by the doctor, had on her
withdrawal been thrown over her chair, intending
to remove it, she had hardly taken it up before
her attention was ri vetted, by beholding the iden
tical garment she had presented to her father.
Pallid as death, she could but faintly whisper,
“The—the—cloak where did it co—come
from 1 ” Surprised by the question the doctor
not observing her agitation, (his thoughts were
bent on Mary) carelessly replied. “The cloak,
why —sure enough, I have made a mistake, and
inadvertantly picked up a patient’s I just left,
instead of my own.” Before the last word was
uttered she would have fallen insensibly upon the
floor, had not Albert caught her, and as the truth
flashed like a sunburst on his mind, with saving
a word excepting that he “would instantly re
turn,” his carriage was heard driving furiously
away.
The clouds were breaking! Scarcely was
Caroline recovering from her swoon, and endeav
oring to regain her scattered senses, whilst Mrs.
Arden, who awakened by the placing of her
daughter beside her, alarmed, was questioning
concerning her, when the carriage again dashed
up —the door flew open—one anxious gaze and
Charles Arden the next moment was locking to
his heart his long parted wife and daughter.
An hour afterwards the husband, sitting be
tween his wife and daughter, one arm circling
each, in the chamber from which the other-actors
of the night had gone, remarked, “And so the
cloak you had intended tor my christmas gift led
J J u
to my discovery, truly the doctor made a fortunate
error ; but my dear, I hear poor Ira stirring in
the next room, had you not better see if all is
right.” Scarcely had Caroline been absent a mo
ment before she rel urned, crying out, “Wonder
upon wonder, Pa, I found Ira rumaging her moth
er’s drawers, and just about to tear this packet,
which, will you believe it, is addressed to Charles
Arden, Esq. Can it possibly father be for you ?”
“ Truly this night has been so prolific of strange
events that I shall venture to open it at all haz
ards, as it certainly bears my name. What say
you Caroline, shall I take this as your Christmas
present?” “See!” continued he, “how glori
ously the sun is scattering the clouds in rising, let
us accept the omen,” and so saying, he broke the
envelope and read the following communication,
“To Charles Arden Esq., only son of the late
William Arden, Merchant of New York.
“ Having waited now in the vain hope of see
ing you for several months, since an advertise
ment was inserted in several of the city papers,
requesting your attention and personal interview
with the legal house of in this place. I
cannot yet deny myself the anticipation that
should I be fated to depart this life without meet
ing vou this will reach your eye.
“I write humbly to beg your forgiveness for so
long withholding from your possession the wealth
which of right is yours. Possibly it may weigh
as some extenuation, that I am entitled to hold
it by virtue of your father’s last will. But this is
no cover to myself for my crime, as knowing that
on his death bed, had his sufferings not been so
acute as to deprive him of the ability ot cancel
ling it, and feeling certain from his intense long
ing, and his promises and offers to you, when in
delirium he imagined you present, that he would
have bequeathed to you the bulk of his posses
sions. I cannot feed at peace without craving
vour pardon, as I have done that of the Power
which opened my eyes to my crime, and restored
the proporty I have so wrongfully withheld.
“ To your brotherly offices I also entrust the
charge of my afflicted daughter Ira, and in case
of her death, bequeath to you all the property
which may descend to her at my decease.
“By reference to the above legal advertise
ment, you will find, should you not yet have ob
tained possession—by money deposited, subject
to your order, in stocks, shipping, a country resi
dence, and town house, et cetera, effects, in all
NUMBER 7.