Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

- ■ lll 1 *■ pcyo!ci> to iitcvoturc, Sricntc, nni> tljc Sous of (temperance, ©&Et- iTcllotusljtp, ittasonrp, anil (Pcuevot 3ntclligciuc. (OLDIE 1 poet ST. , LIKE an open, honest heart. by CHARLF.S K. JORDAN. 1 like an open, honest heart, Where frankness loves to dwell, Which has no place for base deceit, Nor hollow words can tell; But in whose throbbings plain are seen The import of the mind, Whose gentle breathings utter nought But acceuts true and kind. | scorn the one whose empty acts And honied words of art Betray the feelings of the soul With perfidy’s keen dart; No more can friends in such confide, Nor in their kindness trust, for black ingratitude but turns Pure friendship to disgust. Contempt is but a gentle word, A feeling far too mild, % For one who confidence betrays, And guilt has s *re beguil’d ; The hate which hellish fiends evince, When in dark torments toss’d, Is not more loathsome to the soul Than oue to honor lost. Then give me one whose heart is free, And gen’rous as the air, Whose ready hand and greeting kind Give proof that truth is there ; Whose smiling countenance well shows Affection warm is found, And spirit pure as saints, whose notes Through heaven’s vaults resound. ORIGIN a i vAft a. For A Friend of the Family. SELF DEVOTION. BT MISS SUSA* A. STUART. Concluded, CHAT V. “ It is sad To see the light of beauty wane away, Know eyes are dimming, bosoms shrivelling, feet Losing their springs, and limbs their lily roundness; Hut it is worse to feel our heart-spring gone, To lose hope, care nor for the coming thing, And feel all things go to decay with us.” I What a mournful marriage it was, it was cele tied in that little parlor about a week later, Kne present but Mrs. xAJton and Leila's immedi m> relatives, and she in her dark robes of mourn | : for her father, stood by the man whom she Iwd “to love, honor, and obey ” more like a Bnrble statue than a thing of life, so pale, so B:<l she appeared, it seemed as if the icy hand B death had passed o’er that young heart and Billed forever its pulsations. No notice did she Bke of things around, but like a school girl un ■oer mortal fear desirous of saying her lesson well. I Mr. Lustrington after their short tour, conducted B > young bride to her new home. All outward Bnpearance of splendor and comfort was there to Brother, hut now she shrank from them, and I ‘agreeable as her husband had seemed to her, B 5” almost felt like clinging to him for protection she met the icy and stony glances of Slella BWington, and the open impertinence of her r fp-daughters, and this to the creature who for I’d; seventeen years of her brief life had been ■nurtured in a very atmosphere of love. found herself in the absence of Mr. Lus nilgton a nonentity in the house of which Stella U ‘buiereal mistress, for to her did children and for orders. In her unhappy and hame of mind she shrank from any- I f? that must call upon the energy of her na- B and with the very listlessness of despair ■ 1 ‘ered at the idea of any act calling for ac ■■'e exertion. Her husband still played the lover I 15 attentions to her, for his vanity had not been Bounded as yet. B day they were seated in their magnificent ■er"lf ro ° m ’ u ’hen he placed in her hand a let |t ,;V: known writing of her brother, di [ open dS U Forester, ” she hesitated Jftcn oc ll * that one loved name would Jveeks tM l ” ere ’ anc * * or rst l^me f° r m anv Bvifh o J e . 101 colored the once warm cheek ••Win - ul and ra,liant hhisK ■Loil'i ~.i ‘° U not et me see vonr brother’s letter Kinjr lon CU - ° u k'dve finished it? ” said Mr. Lus ■fftthal) f °he see the letter in which ■W rccei -T u ° IJ kl be a message, such as she laud wi[J W t ° n . ce before. Never, she thought, fc°ug| lt Jo , ut aware she was uttering her I l Wow iT Ud ’ ltlere sounded through the room I r * ern phatic “ never ! ” |fc^]V f nri?ton turne J red, and then much dis- K^tim 6 1 roorn . Without thinking of him l” er doo r a i lllr * e d to her room, and shutting l^ e C(j/p’;’ le , aro^e the seal, pale, trembling, as I. ’ ex Pects to hear sentence of death. | U:s ( c pl°red his father’s death with much l le ca^ e \ UI 3e §§ e 4 her to cheer up, and when ■Sector t° [ p e e try to be a father and 0 lls Osiers. A scaled slip was in the envelope; like one in a dream she opened and read : “ Gus has informed me my dear miss Leila of your sad bereavement, in which it is needless]! hope, to assure you I most deeply s} T mpathize.— But through all this darkness of bitter grief, par don me if I say there is a feeling of such deep tenderness in my sympathy for you, that I most ardently wish 1 could fly to your presence to pro tect, to shield, to love you. Oh! Leila dearest, you do not know how ardently I cherish every memory of thee, of your lightest word and tone. I did not intend you should know it until I could come and sue you to be mine, but when 1 learned that you were in trouble, I could not resist the de sire to tell you that amid all, whether of joy or sorrow, one heart beats only for you. I know that l am unworthy of you, that I have not much to offer, but a love as undying as my own soul, as tender as that of the mother for her babe. Our time is up they tell me for our mail, so I must close. But write me one word of hope that 1 may’ win y r ou at last, and there is nothing of which I will not feel myself capable. Ever Yours, Algernon.” She sat as if turned to stone, and then folding the letter, hid it in her bosom. No tears catne ; arid only the low, sobbing sigh, which ever and anon broke from her lips, spoke of her vitality.— A summons to dinner—she opened the door, but told them she wished none. No tender voice soothed her—no second sum mons called her; but it was not thought of by her, for she had not well awakened from her stu por, and thought not how cold, how unfeelingthey were. One faithful heart was there however.— Rosa, who had accompanied her young mistress after her marriage, returned with her to her new home. It was her who now sought her in her grief, and sat in the doorway regarding her as she thus sat mutelv motionless. “ Would you not like to see Mrs. Alton, my mis tress ? ” said she, at last, “You do look so strange ! ” “No one \ T et Rosa; God will keep me.” “ What have they been doing to you my dear mistress ? ” said the faithful creature, “ Has that awful woman been doing or saying anything?” By this time she was kneeling, with streaming eyes before Leila, hut she still continued silent. “They will kill you, [ see,” cried the poor nurse, now beside herself with fear “and Mr. Lustrington is no better than they. Oh, how 1 hate them all! ” “ You do, do you, Miss Impudence,” said Miss Stella, who had entered without knocking, “ I will tell tm cousin what a snake he has in the house. Your mistress, I think, ought not to al low you, a servant, to speak ot her husband and his relations as she allows you to speak without any rebuke, sitting so silent and encouraging your impudence. 1 wonder Ella Lustrington can rest in her grave with all that is passing here, in her C 1 i house, her children, and her husband abused by the negro wench who comes with the person who tries to usurp her place ! ” and she flung herself in a great rage from the room. •Leila, by this time really overcome, was per suaded by Rosa to lie down. That evening she received a cold note from her husband, telling her that he had come to the conclusion that ii would he better for all parties that she should see as little as possible of her sisters, as she seemed to separate their love and interests en tirely from him and his, and as she bore his name now, it was time she should learn to feel some in terest in her new relations. Further, that he would take it as a personal favor it she would send her maid Rosa hack to Mrs. Alton, as he had un derstood she was constantly giving impertinence to his cousin and his children, and he wished his wife to he waited on only by his own servants ! And this was the end of her pure, heart sacri fice. This, from the man who had promised to “love, cherish, and protect her.” But Mr. Lus trington was a weak-minded, jealous, thoroughly selfish man, who loved her after a fashion, hut finding it was not returned as he thought she should for his attentions for a few weeks, al lowed himself to listen to a fiend in the shape of Stelia Lustrington. CHAP. VI. Death lies on lier, like an untimely frost Upon the sweetest flower of ajl the field. Months have and on suict D A (rain we see Leila. But a striking change is here. Could you think that this frail creature had ever been the gleesome, gladsome gil l who was so fondly loved by her parents, and the sisters ol our The whole of the family are gathered in her chamber now —and why ? to watch the last hreat i as it issues from those pale lips. . Yes, Leila, our loved, unhappy one, is dying. For months has the destroyer been slowly sapping the life from her veins, touching so slowly with SAVANNAH, GA.. THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 8, 1849. his icy fingers that no one knew it but herself.— And she dies a martyr —yes,a martyr to a system of persecution from that flinty hearted monster, Stella Lustrington, aided by the weak minded husband who, thoroughly steeled by his selflsh jealousy, listened to all the suggestions of the wretch ; and, if not an active party, became a passive witness to the scenes of persecutions which that } T oung creature sustained so uncom plainingly, so angelically, like the meek and Holy One, never buffeting back again, but when smitten on one cheek, still turning the other. At last nature could hold out no longer, and here lies she on her death bed. The doctors talk of feeble constitution—of consumption, but every one knew that her young heart had been trodden down, and she had been literally killed by their unkind ness. Then came back, too late, her husband’s anx ious tenderness—then were summoned Mrs. Al ton and her sisters—hut all too late ! As well think to bring hack to life and bloom the flower that is trodden under foot by care, as the crushed blossom which now lies dying before him. One only thought and wish seems to possess her, “my brother, has he come ? ” does she whisper ever as her kind friend bends o’er her. ’ Twas a lovely summer evening. The skv was mellowing and deepening in its tints from gold to a richer and softer hue, throwing out in the Claude Lorraine colouring of the sky and earth every leaflet and spray against the twilight vault ; soft breezes too came in through the open windows and kissed her sunny brow, as she lay weak and feeble on her couch. All were gath ered there for she was sinking visibly. A smile of peace had settled on that whilome weary face, but she still said ; “my brother, to see him but once ! ” Mrs. Alton is called from the chamber. Leila’s ear, sharpened by the approach of death, has caught the whispered summons, and with more strength than was looked for, she half rises, and says clearly—distinctly : “Oh ! he has come ! My own darling Gus ! Tell him I want to see him now—this moment —while I have life—come! oh come quickly my brother! ” and her then transparent hands were held out eagerly and expectantly. How true is the prescience of those on the con fines of eternity. It was indeed Augustus Fores ter, who had arrived express from New York.— He entered, and caught Leila to his heart. Tall, and manly, he seemed the eldest now, as he held the frail, dving girl in his arms ; but his strong frame was shaking with his deep emotion. At the request of Leila, every one withdrew. .“ My brother I ha. no time to spare. I leave to you mv mother’s dying legacy to me, her chil dren, our sisters. Be father, mother, all to them dear Gus. I have done, as thou alone knowest oh Father! my best for them, but in vain ! Yes, dearest brother, I sold every hope of happiness to obtain for them a home, a protector ; hut it was of no avail. Never have l complained to mortal 1 what I have suffered, and ’tis useless now. May it he some atonement with my God for breaking his sacred commands when I stood before the min ister. Here brother, give this to Algernon Percy —this letter. Tell him I received it a month af ter my marriage, and that I give it to him on my death bed. Tell him to think it a missive from the dead, to beg him to prepare for death and meet me in a happier, brighter world. Dearest brother say nothing to those who have made me suffer, but make my last moments easy by show ing that you have your young sisters welfare most at heart. And now I will tell you to bid farewell to Percy for me. Call the others in, and then fold your arms still around me my brother, I dread not death, I welcome it now.” He did so; and Leila, folded in his tender arms with her young, sad relatives around her, slept her last sleep. Having died in the hope of a blissful immortality, her friends sorrowed not as those without hope, hut after the mortal struggle was ended, seemed glad she had escaped her state of bondage and misery. But her faithful nurse still clung to her mis tress’s corpse, and with reproaches which were unchecked, upbraided Mr. Lustrington, for allow ing Stella, his cousin, to have killed his wife.— There, over that cold body, telling him of delib-j rate cruelty both of word and deed, to the patient! sufferer now lying so cold, so still before him, and which made him shed tears of agony and self reproach, and grading him on to such a frenzy of hate that he rushed from the still chamber of death, he turned the mischief maker from his door with imprecation and hitter revilings. A tall, sad looking young officer was seen once or twice at the tomb of Mrs. Lustrington. It was Algernon Perc}'. After some years, Gus, who had married, received the news of his friend’s death, which took place off the coast of Africa. Mrs. Alton still continues living, the Forester’s arej with her. They are both, Anna and Mary, cn- gaged, so that Fanny will have a home alternately I with them, as they are both willing and able t<> afford, when God shall see fit to call her almost maternal friend, Mrs. Alton, from her sphere of usefulness. And thus ends my story of Leila Forester. llcquiescat en pace. Colonel 1 s Island, Oct., 1849. A Highland Echo. —ln the course of last sum mer, some strangers of distinction were induced to visit a wild and unfrequented retreat in a dis tant part of the Highlands, chiefly from a report, they had heard of an echo, remarkable for the clear and distinct nature of its reverberation. On reaching the spot from whence the trial of its powers is usually made, their guide put his hand to the side of his mouth, and bawled out with the lungs of a Stenton, a salutation in Gaelic, which was repeated a precision that seemed beyond the expectations of the party. One of the gentle men, by way of trying the strength of his voice, his hand to the side of his mouth, in the same manner as the guide, and called out* — “ How far are we from home V 1 These words, much to the surprise of the con- ductor, were also repeated, when poor Donald, with a simplicity that brought a smile over the features of all present, observed— -44 You may think it strange, gentlemen, hut this is the first time lever heard our echo speak Eng lish.” “I have no doubt,” said the gentlemen, “hut it can repeat other languages, if put to the test,” and instantly bawled out some French, Spanish and Italian. Donald looked more bewildered than ever. “Well, I must say that’s very queer; my own father and my own self have known that echo for more than seventy years, and we never knew it use no language but the Gaelic language before.” “Your echo is more learned than you sup posed,” said the gentleman, laughing, though at a loss whether to impute Donald’s remarks to archness or simplicity. “You may say that; but can yon tell me, sir,” said the poor fellow, with an expression of earn estness that appeared highly amusing to those, present, “as the echo has never been out of the country, where can she have got all her education?” A Lucky Find. —About a week ago, the wife of Thomas Reece, a collier, residing at North Wing field, was rummaging up some old pit clothes that had been laid aside for a number of years, in order to find a patch, and in the course of her search she met with a pair of old trowsers that had belonged to her husband’s father (David Reece, who formerly lived at swanwick, and was in the employ of W. P. Morewood Esq., for ma ny years,) when she found the watch-pocket care fully sewed up, and upon being cut open it con tained a receipt for <£-55, which had been placed in Me ssrs. Wright & Co’s Bank at Nottingham, by David Reece, in the year 18*39, and who died it) March 1342, without saying a word about it.— The wife, overjoyed, hastened to inform her hus band of their good luck, who immediately posted off to Nottingham with the golden vision before his eyes, but there, alas! he was doomed to dis appointment, for the partiesof the bank knew noth ing of him, and could not pay him on his own identity. He accordingly returned to Afreton, and communicated the circumstance to Win. Wilson, Esq., steward to W. P. Morewood Esq.,;who kindly undertook the business, and on Saturday last received the above sum for him with jCH 15s. 2d. interest. —Derby Reporter. The Roved Faces. —Happy thoughts come steal ing upon us as we look upon the faces of these we loved in other days —those we have been s( p erated from for years, and who return again with all the changes of time and thought upon their brews. The joyous feelings that arise upon meet ing with old familiar faces, cordial shaking of hands, and the hearty congratulations that fol low—who does not remember them t But when those we love and cherish, leave us forever — when their spirits pass away from earth to hea ven, who would not give all on earth for a pic ture- —even a faint resemblance—ever so anima ted and beautiful! How many bright eyes grow dim—how many cheeks grow pale —how miny lovely forms fade away into the tomb, leaving not a shadow of their loveliness behind. Rays of the Mcon. —The light of .h t mojn is 300,000 (some say a million) times more feeb’e than that of the sun. The rays of the moi n col lected to a focus produce no sensible effect on th: thermometer. Indeed it is an opinion among gardeners that the moon’s rays are cold. It has long been believed that it is inj trious to sleep with the moon shining on the face. Plu’arch asserts this: he sa\’s meat will spoil soon t in moonlight than in the sun. NUMBER M