Newspaper Page Text
Til Mill ODHP.
VOLUME 11.
(Ijf /iiniii nf Cljf /ninth},
A Weekly Southern Newspaper,
PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY, BY
EDWARD J. PURSE.
terms:
-tfo Dollars a year, in advance, or Two
Fifty if not paid within three months.
, gsCRIPTIOA’S RECEIVED FOR SIX MONTHS
AT ONE DOLLAR, IN ADVANCE.
Three copies for one year, or one copy
three years, - -- -- -- $5 00
Copies, - -- -- -- 10 0)
[\vclve copies, 15 00
q* Advertisements to a limited extent,
! fill be inserted at the rate of 50 cents fop n
, ua rc of twelve lines or less, for the first ill
ation, and GO cents for each subsequent
nsntion. Business cards inserted for nyear
t Five Dollars.
liberal discount will be made to Pos
Asters who will do us the favor to act as
merits.
postmasters arc authorized to remit tno-
P vto Publishers and all money mailed in
r jence of the Postmaster, and duly for
ced b him, is at our risk.
communications to be addressed
ost-paid) to E. J. PURSE,
Savannah, Gn.
JOHN F. SHEEN,
A SHI ONABLE TAILOR ,
Ihcr.U M Havwontl’s Ihiir Dressing Saloon,
OPPOSITE THE PULASKI HOUSE.
Ding, Mending and Cleaning done with neatness
,| despatch. \\ ork made up as cheap as at any
t -r establishment in the city. sept 21
Thasbrouck & CO.,
Wholesale and Retail Dealers in
MIX A, GLASS AND EARTHENWARE,
>pt2l BROUGHTON STREET. SAVANNAH.
McARTHOR & MORSE,
Manufacturers and Dealers in
WIN, JAPANNED &, BLOCK TIN WARE,
HOLLOW &u ENAMELLED WARE,
STOVES AX'D COOKING RANGES,
.no Pipe, Sheet Lead. Cupper and Zinc,
STORE, Hi BARNARD STREET.
All kinds of Copper, Tin and Sheet Iron \Vork>
in the best manner, at the shortest notice.
*pt 21 lyr.
JOHN V. TARVER,
CTOR S’ COMMISSION MERCHANT
EXCHANGE WHARF, SAVANNAH, GA.
RABUN & FULTON,
COMMISSION MERCHANTS,
No. 207 Ray Street, Savannah, Ga.
\V. RABUN, n. L. FULTON, I. P. WHITEHEAD.
LANIER HOUSE,
13 Y LANIER Sc SON,
jmic 22 Macon, Georgia.
S. Y. LEVY,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Office, No. ISS Bay-Street.
E. T. SHEFTALL,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
may 25 niT.Ltx, Georgia.
MEDICAL NOTICE.
DOCTOR MOREL. OlT.ee No. 157 Brough
hn Street. ts mar 23
FRANCIS WAVER,
PORTING &, COMMISSION MERCHANT,
No 107 Bay Street, Savannah, Geo.
ALLEN & BALL,
Mors & commission merchants,
No. 112 BAY STREET,
SAVANNAH, GA.
J. M. BALL & CO.,
on tv chants,
MACON, GPIORGIA.
Robert a. allen, james m. hall,
tept 20 ly
J. DE MARTIN,
DEALER IX
hnits, Wines, Liquors, Segars.
PICKLES, PRESERVES and GARDEN SEEDS.
—: also :
APPLES, ONIONS S’ POTATOES,
Den in season, received fresh by every vessel.
—: also: —
■ ! rrs put up to order in from 1 to 10 gallon kegs.
Corner of Bay and W hitaker Streets,
savannah, ga.
JOHN OLIVER,
HOUSE AND SIGN PAINTER,
GILDER, GLAZIER, See.,
1-1 Broughton Street, a fete doors cast oj
Whitaker Street, Savannah, Ga.
, - ‘ All kinds of Paints—faint Oil, Turpentine,
_ v iyh. Glass. Putty, & c., for sale. jnly SO
EDWARD G. WILSON,
JUSTICE OF THE PEACE,
/>
tc yanccr, Colleclor, Accountant S’ Copyist,
Office under J. AI. Haywood’s.
Day, Wednesday, September 25th.
SAMUEL S. MILLER,
manufacturer of
Carriages and wagons,
in hubs, stokes, felloes, &c.
No. 140 Broughton St., Savannah.
J. T. JONES.
M AXUFACTU RF.R AND DEALER IN
double & Single Guns, Rifles, &c.,
West Side of Monument Square.
SAVANNAH, GEORGIA.
G. W HEDRICK,
ftOUSE AND SIGN PAINTER
Glazier, Grainer & Paper Hanger.
Barnard Street, Soutii of the Market
always ready to execute all orders in bis lint
i ll “ dispatch, and at the lowest prices. Al
/ n^8 of mixed Paints, Glass and Putty kepi
lor sale. ]yr Dec 22
Ilnuiti'ii fn H'ifrnifurc, irintrt Quit Slrt, fjjc Inns of Ctnifftnunt, tDiili /rllnutsljib jHnsnnnj nub (gwrrnl Duffllijirurr.
JONES &. PAPOT,
Shipwrights, Spar Makers,
AND CAULKERS.
Yard opposite R.&c J. Lachlison’s Foundry.
.iAVAPtNAII, GEORGIA.
R. H. DARBY,
rwr’ jEL lOFtk. -,
Corner Broughton and Whitaker Streets,
SAVAffNllf, GEORGIA.
R. H. D. is prepared to execute all orders for
Making or Cutting on reasonable terms,
mar 9 iy
PHILIP KEAN,
DRAPE It AN D TAILOR,
AND DEALER IX
READY MADE CLOTHING.
Penfield’s Range, No. 98 Bryan Street,
Store formerly occupied by J Southwell &, Cos.,
SAVANNAH, GEORGIA.
J. S. STURTEVANT,
master builder,
Corner Montgomery and Liberty Sts.
All orders in his line will be promptly attended
to, and faithfully executed
june 1 jy
A SHORT,
MASTER BUILDER,
Will Like contracts for Building and Work in
Masonry of every description. Corner of South
Broad and Whitaker streets. may 20
CONTRACTOR AND BUILDER.
The subscriber is prepared to execute with
neatness and despatch all work in the above line.
142 Broughton St. Two Doors West of L W.
MORRELL’S Furniture Store.
1. SOLOMONS, Agent.
June 1 lyr
CLOTHING,
PIERSON & lIEIDT offer for sale CLOTHING,
W holesale and Retail, at New York price*, No.
10 Whitaker Street. apl 26
G M. GRIFFEN.
Jfe&s HAVING purchased the stock in trade of
(\A jtliolnte M. Eastman, would solicit the con-
GsmeGb inued patronage of all the friends of the
establishment. All customers shall be pleased
with goods and satisfied with prices.
GEO. M. GRIFFEN.
the personal attention of Mr. G., as usual.
Sept 21
DR. J. DENjMTS,
BOTANIC DRUGGIST,
Next door above L. C. Warren &. Cos,
Augusta, Ga,
Keeps constantly on hand a choice assortment*
selected from the best establishments in the United
States, consisting of Emetics, Cathartics, Diapho
retics, Diuretics, Expectorants, Emmcnngogues,
Stimulants, Tonics, Astringents, Nervines, Alka
lies, Alteratives, Rubefacients, and Compounds
for family use. Composition PoVrder, No. Six,
L >belia in its various preparations, See., also
Medical Books, may 4
ALFRED HAYWOOD.
CORNER BRYAN AND BARNARD STREETS,
Market Square, Savannah,
Dealer in Choice FRUITS, CANDIES. NUTS,
ORANGES, LEMONS, APPLES, AND PO
TATOES. Wholesale and Retail.
First quality Thunderbolt Oysters, Fish, <fcc.
Newark refined Champaigne Cider, and Albany
Cream Al*, by the bll.
Orders from the Country, accompanied
by the cash or City reference, punctually attended
to adg 9
A CARD.
The Undersigned having re-opened with an entire
Now Stuck nf DRUGS, CHEMICALS, AND
FANCY ARTICLES, at No. 139 (South Side)
Broughton street, (formerly Walkers Marble
Yard) is now ready to furnish anything in his line
at the shortest notice. SODA WAJER, made
in his own peculiar way, sent to any part of the
city, and always to be had at the stoi'e in the
lushest state of perfection.
Prescriptions put up with care and despatch.
The Subscriber having served the public long
and faithfully, respectfully solicits a share o( their
patronage.
may 11 TIIOS. RYERSQN.
SASHES, DOORS, AND BLINDS.
10,000 Light of Sash, of all sizes from 8 X 18 to
12X20.
150 pairs Blinds for Windows of all sizes.
50 I’annel Doors doors different sizes and
thickness.
For sale by CHARLES VAN HORN.
No. 153 Bay Street, near the City Hotel.
N. B. All orders for Carpenter’s Work executed
at the shortest notice. ts nov 29
SASHES, DOORS AND BLINDS.
15,000 Lights of Sash from 7 X 10 to 12
200 pair Blinds for Windows from BXIO to 12
X 20. 100 Funnel Doors, various sizes.
Odd Sizes furnished at the same terms.
For sale by JOHN G. FALLIGANT.
nov 29
A. CARD.
A lady educated in London and Paris, a good
Musician, Singer, Draughts-womnn, and Painter,
who speaks the French language in all its purity,
desires a situation either in a School or private
family. Terms moderate—references most re
spectable.
A line addressed to this office, care of E. J.
Purse, for D’Este Smyth, will be attended to im
mediately. june 29
GAS PIPES AND FIXTURES.
STRATTON & DOBSON,
Having received an assortment of Chandeliers,
Pendants, Brackets and Portable Gag Burners,
respectfully invite the citizens of Savannah to
call at their store, No. 72 St. Julian street, and
examine the same 4t i unp
JOHN MALLERY,
DRAPER AND TAILOR,
Ao. 55 Euy-st. joining the City Hotel.
Invites the attention to his Stock ot New and
Seasonable Goods, now opening, consisting of
choice READY M ADE CLOTHING and FUR
NISHING GOODS, comprising every aiticlc
of Gentlemen’s apparel.
Also, a full supply es CLOTHS, CASbIMERES
and VESTINGS, of various shades and qualities
—which will he made to order in the most ap
proved style, by competent and experienced
Workmen, warranted to give entire satisfaction,
and at prices to suit the lime? oct 18
SAVANNAH, GA., SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 28. 1850,
Irlcrfrii } v urtnj,
HERDSMAN’S SONG,
Known as the Echo Eowg.
sing nr mad’lle jenny lind.
Come hither, come hither, my pretty herd;
Huati, huah, huah, huah, hunh.
Conte; ox and cow and weanling brood,
And hasten to taste of the evening food,
tor night With her shade creeps darkening on,
Ring shrill horn on the molimain rntind;
And follow my cattle the welcome sound
Muah; huah, huah, to grateful abundance my flock
Ppcfcd ve;
Long beside where heart-fires burn;
My love has awaited my return.
Soon I clasp the treasure,
In an ecstacy of pleasUre;
I’aradis’d upon her arm.
No care can grieve, no ill can harm.
[From the Literary World.]
LINES
SUCGESTEtJ ON COMING OUT OF MOUNT HOPE BAY.
Mount Hope! another name belongs to thee}
J houshouldLiecalled, metliinks, Mount Memory,
t or, sailing by T ANARUS, this Indian-summcr day,
Where thou reclinest on thine own blue bay,
Before my eyes King Philip’s lamed retreat,
The crag-roof shelving o’er his royal seat,
And, crowning all, the canopy of blue,
Spanning the same wide-spread, enchanting view
Os shore and slope, that, winding far away
Before the Sachem’s eyes in beauty lay.
Gazing upon thee thus, with tranquil f'yo,
Culm hill! untouched, as years and change sweep
by !
In fancy-dreams thy rocky shore I climb,
And pierce the dusky veil of long-gone time.
I lie white men’s homes, still few and far between,
Melt in blue haze and vanish from the scene.
Slow curls the wigwam-smoke above the trees,
And floats a mimic cloud upon the breeze.
How beautiful is all around —how still !
Save when the echoes, .slumbering on the hill,
Stir to the paddle’s plash, where cuts the l>lue,
Tushing from shore, the red man’s swift canoe,
Or start to hear the sudden shout and screech
Os red men’s children playing on the beach.
Or fling hack the light littigh of dusky girls
Laving in some green nook their jot-black curls,
Or multiply some friendly tribes “ What cheer ! ”
Or foeman’s war-whoop frightful to the car.
Pair Mound ! how slight a change, and all, again,
The self-same aspect wears, to-day, as then,
When, in these scenes, sole lord of hill and plain,
The son of Nature held his fair domain,
Gone are the eyes that drank with raptured gaze
The light of this fair scene in other days,
The wigniam fire Is out on shore and hill —
Tile councihtalk* —the whoop of War —are still.
The paddles frequent plash is heard no more,
All now is hushed, save when the booming oar
Flings the bright spray, or sounds afar the scream
Os wheeling sea-gull or imprisoned steam,-
Yet When, in such mild days as these, 1 stand
And look far ont o’er all the lovely land,
Through the soft haze, like Memory’s veil, that lies,
By Autumn sunlight filing on earth and skies,
Fair Indian maidens, gentle and serene,
Look forth with Spirit-eyes upon the scene;
And from the far horizon of the west,
Where lie the sunny islands of the blest,
Hunter and fighter, sage and sachem come,
To look once more upon their earthly home.
The grave old men —the brave old warriors stand,
In stately talk, apart, a deep-eyed band,
White to the music of the running riil
Low voices murmcr music sweeter still.
But soft! the scene is fading from my view,
And with it fades my fancy’s vision; too.
In the dim distance, now; thy lovely slope,•
Transfigured, seems a skyey land, Mount Hope!
Rudely disturbed, my short dav-dream is o’er,
And the fair shapes I saw just now, once more
Have all withdrawn to upper air with thee,
To dwell for ever, Mount of Memory.
C. T. B.
Irlnlrit Cnle.
THE MEMOIRS OF A LADY.
FROM THE GERMAN.
I am now sixty years of age, and
having all my life been forced to
disguise my feelings and act a part,
will at last fling tbe mask aside and
speak the truth. But to whom
shall I address myself? for unless
it be to laugh at her, an old lady
will hardly find a friend willing to
listen to the history of her life.
Well, I shall address this confession
to ‘myself, and speak freely and
frankly. It will be some relief to
me. I shall be writing a kind of a
moral testament; and when the
pen has once done its duty, the
past will no longer be my own.
The past! Good Heaven ! how far
does it now lie behind me, and \et
how near does it still appear !
I shall sleep to-night in ♦yon
chamber, which I have not entered
for forty years. Every thing heie
seems so unchanged, so much like
what it was when I last occupied
these apartments; I saw so true a
representation of former times in
their appearance, that I actually re
coiled with affright on beholding
the reflection of my own wrinkled
face in a mirror : 1 had almost lan
ded that 1 was still to find myself
young.and unchanged Alas! from
to-day every remnant of youthful
feeling has vanished from my
breast.
1 lost my mother in infancy, and
was only ten years of age when my
father died. An elder sister became
my guardian bat as she had just
made a brilliant marraige, and was
entering the gay world at the most
promising period of her career, in
flower of youth and beauty’s pride,
she was glad lo be relieved from
taking charge of me. 1 was, there
fore, placed for my education in a
convent which was then in consid
erable vogue, and in which were
many young ladies of rank and for
tune. It was usual for the pupils
to remain in this establishment till
they had attained their sixteenth or
seven teeth }’ear, then to marry or
to join their friends in the great
world. Th is was also my sister’s
intention with regard to myself, as
she very frankly told me when she
bade me adieu, and left me at the
convent under the charge of a gov
erness.
Among the pupils was a Lady
Emily O , to whom I soon be
came greatly attached. She was
several years older than myself,
full of talents, spirit, and romance.
She lived in the clouds, so to ex
press it, and Platonic love was her
ideal of all that was great and beau
tiful. As I also possessed an easily
excited fancy, Lady Emilie’s con
versation fell upon a fruitful soil;
though she was candid enough to
tell rne that the real world offered
little foundation on which to raise
such brilliant structures of ideal
beauty and perfection as she was
fond of building.
“Men are not what I take plea
sure in representing them, ” she
often said ; “it is only my fanc\
that loves lo paint them in such
bright colors. But you will know
them in time, and } T ou will be easily
understood.”
As 1 grew up I gradually adopt
ed the notions of my friend, and
lived with her in an ideal sphere, of
which w’e w’ere, in truth, the only
inhabitants. I forsook the play
mates of my age, and passed whole
days in hearing this modern Heloise
read Wcrthcr , and tales of the same
class, which she bad herself com
posed in a still more exaggerated
strain. Beyond bearing me repeat
my lessons, my governess look little
trouble about me ; and as the lady
superior was satisfied with her
reports, no one paid the least atten
tion to my general way of going on.
When 1 w’as fifteen years of age,
Lady Emily died and left me all
her papers and manuscripts. These
I took with me when soon after
wards I quitted tbe convent, and
made them rny constant, almost
my only study. How impatient I
was to see the world, I had pictur
ed to myself so beautiful ; but which,
when beheld, I hardly recognized.
Instead of allowing me to form a ro
mantic attachment, to select (as the
patron of my life) the objecl of my
affection, my family presented Ba
ron Nierking to me, and told me to
look upon him as my future hus
band ; that lie was a man of wealth,
rank, and station—altogether un
exceptionable, in fact; and that our
marriage w'as a settled affair
When I attempted to remonstrate I
was laughed al, called a little fool,
and was greatly surprised to find
myself married before I had time to
object, and almost before I knew
how it has happened.
My husband w’as about fifty, had
once been handsome —knew 7 it* and
still thought himself so. He was a
man oflimited and little cultivated
understanding, and of cold dispo
sition. He had never loved me ;
but the world called me happy, for
I had wealth at command, and was
allow’ed perfect and uncontrolled
freedom. What could I desire
more ?
‘Happy,’ indeed ! and what is this
happiness of which all are speak
ing ? 1 picture it to myself as a
spirit, or essence, inhabiting a gold
en temple with numerous gales,
each surmounted by emblematical
figures —toys of all sorts; here
flower, and there laurels ; and eve
ry individual on approaching hur
ries tow’ards the gate which seems
the most attractive. But how to
open it when attained ? One as
pirant sometimes spends a whole
| life in knocking nt ‘nil ; another, in
constantly tarrying at the same.
Here a gate yields to our efforts,
we tlffuk the goal is gained ; when,
lo! a laughing demon points to the
divinity we wish to approach, then
thrusts us out, and we find our
selves as far from the mark as ever.
Phis was my fate. Love constitu
ted jny ideal of happiness ; I could
comprehend no other, anti this one
source of happiness was to be de
nied me<
Notwithstanding my foolish and
extravagant fancies I yet retained,
during the earlier period of my
m arned life, the strictest sentiments
of duty. I suffered in my solitary
position, and pride made me reject
all the attention paid me ; but 1 con
fess that even this feeling of duty
ultimately gave way, and consign
ed me to grief and sorrow. I sigh
ed and sought for a heart to love
me. At last I pictured to myselfan
ideal,and of course, incomparable
lover, having all the features and
perfections of the favored heroes of
ray romances. I looked round the
brilliant circles of society, and
smiled when I compared the most
distinguished cavaliers with his
fancied perfections. By degrees
all my thoughts were fixed on this
ideal lover, to whom 1 became at
last fondly and affectionately attach
ed. 1 spoke to him, wrote to him,
sometimes represented him as ill,
sometimes as jealous ; he joined the
army, got into danger, and I sacri
ficed myself to ensure his safety.
Atlust we met again,and then fol
lowed a period of undisturbed happi
ness. He understood me perfectly,
accompanied me through life, join
ed me in society, and became a per
fect guardian angel ; for I watched
carefully every step of my conduct,
in order to give him no cause of
complaint. On his account I rejoiced
in the attention paid me, and in
the admiration mv general behavi
•s O
our excited; nor was there any
pleasure or gratification which 1
was not ready to relinquish merely
to oblige him : I was playing a real
Comedy of Love in secret. This
comedy lasted for three years, and
the consequences impressed them
selves strongly on my characrter;
many of my friends hardly knew
me again; some were alarmed by
the change ; but I took no notice of
their conjectures, and allowed them
lo think whatever they pleased.
What was the world’s opinion lo
me ?
I was twenty-three years of age
when I passed four weeks on a visit
at the castle of one of my cousins—
even here, where I now write these
lines. My ideal lover was not with
me; hi* absence caused me, of
course, much grief, and I was sigh
ing for the hour of our next meeting.
The period of my visit was at an
end, and my departure fixed for
the next morning, when my coach
man reported that my carriage had
received an injury which could not
be repaired in less than a day. The
delay vexed me a good deal, hut
my cousin consoled me, as she ex
pected a very pleasant addition to
her party in tr.e morning.
‘My uncle,’ she said, ‘is coming ;
and who do you think, Bertha, ac*
companies him? Why your favo
rite poet, the poetical hero, the
adored of all the women, whom
you have so long been anxious lo
meet,— Count Arthur G *•’
These tidings easily reconciled
me to the accident which had be
fallen my carriage ; though I re
proached myself in some measure,
for this feeling. Did not all rny
thoughts belong to him whom Iliad
left at a distance ? But rny curiosi
ty was excited, and the day pas
sed in speculating on the appear
ance of this lauded irresistible.
We were four young ladies at the
castle, and every one of us had form
ed a different opinion on the sub
ject. When assembled for break
fast next morning, it was immedi
ately observed that the toilets were
more carefully selected than usual;
the spirit ot coquetry seemed to per
vade the whole party, and it might
have been thought that we were ail
in love with Count Arthur, so fre
quently and impatiently did our
eyes glance from the clock lo the
castle gate. Atlast'a carriage drove
up, and the whole party instantly
hurried to the window ; I did not
follow the example, but hastened to
tny own room, hardly able to ex
plain to myself ihc nature of my
j motions. It actually required time
and some effort before I could re
cover sufficient composure to return
to the drawing-room. With down
cast eyes, and strangely agitated,
I opened the door, but heard only
one voice, that of my uncle, who
j accosted mo in his usual friendly
i manner ; I could hardly answer, till,
; looking about, I found that we were
| alone.
‘Where are the ladies?’ 1 then
! inquired.
‘ln the garden, with Count Ar
thur, my fair Lady Baroness.’
Without further remark the old
; gentleman immediately went up to
| a glass-case that contained some
I valuable antiquities, when as a keen
i antiquarian, he always contemplat
ed with renewed pleasure. I fol
lowed mechanically, and was lis
tening, without atttention, to a
learned treatise on an ancient tiara,
| when steps approached, and a
young man of grave and calm as
pect joined us. It was the Count
himself
‘Count Arthur, my niece, Baron
ess Nierking,’ said tny uncle*
A few commonplaces followed on
this introduction ; and though he
must, of course, have seen me, 1
waited till he had addressed me
before I ventured to raise my
in order to look at him. He joined
in the [conversation and, though
very celebrated at the time, was
totally unassuming. His observa
tions all showed the man of taste
and information, and 1 found them
so striking, that I could almost have
ancied them my own.
The party now assembled and
proceeded to visit the castle and es
pecially a turret of some historical
note, which my uncle never failed
to inspect. To reach it we had
to pass through a room which had
been assigned as a study to ihe
count, and where we found that
some of his papers had been thrown
carelessly on the table, as ifprepara
tively to their being put in order.
This led to a request that he would
favor us by reading some of his
compositions; he consented at last,
and I took my seat on a sofa exact
ly opposite to him. His reading
was impressive, and he seemed to
address every striking line of poetry
so especially to me, that the other
ladies actually appeared jealous, so
that I was forced to rise merely to
escape their inquisitorial glances*
The count followed my example
and joined me; my heart beat as if
my very breast were about to burst
asunder. I found myself drawn
towards him by an irrestible power,
which he probably observed.
“And your ladyship lias actual
ly resolved to leave us to-morrow?”
lie said.
“Yes, my lord,” I replied, looking
round the room rather than at the
speaker.
“But wherefore so soon ?” he con
tinued.
“I leave with regret, but I am ex
pected at home and these words
having gradually restored my com
posure, I left him, and the party re
turned to the drawing-room. A
lady look her place at the piano
and sang, another followed her
ample, and my uncle pressed me
to do the same. My heart was full
and I consented ; and feel convinced
that the tones ofmv vo&e had nev
er been so [touching* The count
stood by my side ; he did not speak,
but seemed fully to share my emo
tions. 1 dwell so long on the his
tory of this day, because it was the
first, the eventsof which impressed
themselves on my heart for life ;
the [first day till to-day—which is
the last.
After dinner followed a walk in
the garden. Count Arthur gave
me his arm ; at first we spoke in the
commonplace manner oi the com
monplace things, that so often lead
to the most interesting conversa
tions. At last we came to the theme
ofendless novelty and variety—the
theme which has some time or oth
er spoken home to the hearts of all
who can feel, and of which all have
either heard or thought—l mean,
love.
Count Arthur inquired what was
my idea of love ? 1 had none.
“Do you not think with me, my
1 lady,” be continued,, “that men in
general too readily give way to this
NUMBER 30.