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for To oopiaa for S3O Tr* dollars for sis months. •< IX7* All Lettors must he free of paatage, sxerpt where insnejr is ssclosed. The Seasons of L,OTe. BY a. T. MORRIS. The spring time of love Is both happy anil gay, For joy sprinkles blossoms And balm in our way ; The skv, earth, and ocean In beauty repose, Andalllhe bright future Is couleur de rose. The summer of love Is the bloom of the heart, When hill, grove and valley Theirmusic impart; And the pure glow of heaven Is seen in fond eyes, As lakes show the rainbow That’s Imng in the skies. The autum oflove Is the season of cheer— Life’s mild Indian-smnmif, The stnile of the year, Which comes when the golden, Itipe harvest is stored, And yields its own blessings— Repose and reward. The winter of lovo Is the beam that we win, While the storm scowls without Front the sunshine within. Lore’s reign is eternal, The heart is his throne, And he has all seasons Os life for his own. From the Mobile Herald. The Widow. ■ It .. A .,„. With soft, black, shining curls, And looketh more bewitching Than a host of romping girls. Her langh is so delicious — So knowing, clear beside, You’d never dream her l Linking Soon to become a bride. Her dress, though made of sables, Gives roundness to her torn) — A touch of of some thing thoughtful, A witching, winning charm ; And when she sits down by you, With quiet and easy grace— .. A tear may fall unbidden, Or a rmile light up her face. Her voice is soft—melodious — And lute like in its tone ; She sometimes sighs ‘ ’tis dreadful, To passthrough life alone.’ And tlieii she’ll tell you, you remind her Os the lov’d one dead and gone ; Your step, your fotm, your features ; Thus the widow w ill run on. Oh! listen, yet be careful, For well she plays her part llcr lips distil the nectar That doth enslave ujo heart, Be guarded or she’ll win you, With sighs, and smiles, and tear*; T f a ith she’ll wear the breeches too, And box your silly ears. The Dawn of Love. A maiden stood, In thoughtful mood. Beside a mountain stream ; Her heart went pit, and then wetft pat, So strangely—you would reason that She must be in a dream. And at her side, In manly ptide, A youth was whispering low ; His heart went pat, and then went pit, So strangely—you would think was it Could never flutter so. A willing ear, ‘•Truth is stranger than fiction.” j Whilo the citizens of our crowded towns may be excused for exulting in the shilling scenes up on which they “play their parts,” they have gen erally aliected an unwarrantable derision lor the pastimes of the country gentleman. Being par ties interested, and constituting themselves the judges, they appropriate the favorable features of the contrast whenever the relative resources of city or rural vivacity are made the subjects of disputation. Each side of the picture will doubt less be found to have its prominent points ; and if there lie a larger and more varied canvas on the one hand, it can only be the result of, and in proportion to, the aggregate of the elements of I human society. Destitution in any particular or ! class of grouping on one side, is to some extent j equalized by repletion, anda concomitant sense 1 of ennui on the other. The townsman often magnifies the monotony of rural occurrences from a too partial and liini ted survey ol the subject. lie is surprised on looking over the waving lields and overflowing granary of the contented planter, to notice an ap parent poverty in the means of comfort about his house, while the same circumstances of wealth in his own sphere are visible in architec tural adornments, the luxury of sumptuous living and the common incidents of the social diver! herever he discovers the ab. Hi/£ llle inferPnce that there, the planter hasnr?mind and soul so entirely en giossed with the desire of increasing his worldly goods, that it is next to impossible to unbend the one or the other by way of recreation to the oc currences ol social merriment. An isolated point will not determine the character of a paint ing in \\ hiclx truthlulncss to nature depends upon the success ol the artist in grouping. A blur may mar the effect of a prominent Headland up on the canvas on which is faithfully portraye' l beautiful buy, whitened with the. ‘•wings of com rellAeii:<r--rrom ds- firing waters, tire liaTmatilins of men that stud the con- 11 terminus landscape. The same principle may 1 be applied with the force of conviction to the scenes of country life. Frequently, at */ioW in tervals it may lie, peering above his neighbors I of the plantation region, is to be seen the beau tiful residence ol the country gentleman, who gives other evidences that he has learned to live tor a higher object than hoarding wealth. The uncle of Julia Sunderland was no mean type of this class. The beautiful stream which fertilized his fruitful fields was not permitted to pursue its j channel unimproved —but mingled its gentle rip- | ling with the hum of industry that proceeded from the monuments to the genius ol man, which studded its shady banks. No traveler would pass his plantation without lingering to notice the ar rangements which attested a cultivated mind. — The interior of the neat residence evinced no less the lovo of system and the supremacy of correct taste. Altogether his was a spot which i Shenstonc might have envied. To this man it j was a source of recreation from the toil of su- | | pcrinleuding the. broad fields, to study to in- ’ crease the means of domestic enjoyment. Years ot study and industry had collected around him from all accessible sources, the means ol gratify- j ing his taste and attesting its high cultivation. , All licit he wanted has been disclosed to the reader in the earlier chapters of this story —a 1 wile, with congenial views and sentiments. He bad a keen sense of the ludicrous, and often dissipated the effects of his wile’s morose ness by such sallies of humor, as made her j ashamed of her lollies. His own neighborhood i furnished material for the frequent exercise of 1 this ‘••'do of warfare. j However studious Julia had been in withhold ing from her best friend the reasons which in duct’d her to make the request ol him, which lie so prompt!} noticed, while ho so affectionately dissuaded her from the purpose involved, his in- I quisitive mind was not long in discovering the ’ unenviable position in which his niece stood to I h,„ „,vn ,viip anil Rmledire. While he did not measure which his own mentor’s character might suggest. Thej perse cution of his niece had made him determine up on a plan for the complete humiliation ol me pre suming coxcomb, while ho had just grrlrnd for supposing that Julia could only he persuaded to adopt measures to stave oft'the breach of con cord and unity which threatened the family circle. This doubt perplexed him no little, ks every step he took towards the his design, evinced the necessity for tho ra tion ol Julia. He determined to so much of her part to her as she with due respect to maidenly delicacy. could without difficulty persuade her to nice policy lie might indicate, as she most unbounded confidence in his notions of I he quick mind of Mr. dis covered the source ol the o'f Rut ledge in so frequently renewing • ■offensive j courtship. There was behind the |fr,ftn a nev- I er-failing fountain of hitter waterj7<'ißra ug[ft of ; which reinvigorated his hopes at f “BouLged I him to the prosecution of his any time he abandoned the intcrviq/',jMth Julia, I dispirited and persuaded that;r,. a fcSeine was ; hopeless, the truculent aunt— j. Jminni a( ] v j. j ser redoubled her words of/ without regard to the obligating M-uth, and di- j Juted upon the old aphorism, u i con- j I quers all things.” ‘ - ’ j Mr. Sunderland was at a lof explication ot his wife’s strange predil/. jßfor Rutledge. ■ Ihe one idea seemed to pos ’ entirely. It j might have been uncle, by the j concentration of his pern ’ ■faculties, could I have discovered one quart. the school- | master that made him his intelligent j j niece. With his many and glMfg foibles, there J was no redeeming trait of chaHter. Unnoticed j he had heard the desponding of the reject- 1 ed wooer, and beforfc the hca^HcongraHilations the fi-ujjj^A" 1 !* fi, ! d cheer Julia, ! of the s had umUJ 11 eveMtuleV'!’,i."To’.lf.-i' I '.J■vj^TirTpaTreines o I re- x ’ lion. ‘When he plead that he had exhausted the ; 1 blandishments of persuasion, heightened by the ‘ accents of resistless love, he was commanded to j ’ repeat them ; with the hint to take advantage of j the truth of the sarcasm of the distich, “O who can tell the power Os the tailor’s art, Upon the young and tender heart ?” Rutledge, like most men of overweening van- j ity and limited mind, was easily persuaded that j his intellect, and person bedecked, would sooner j ior later overcome all the barriers of prejudice, j I and hence the secret of his yielding implicitly to j | the direction of his female counselor. Dress i him as you would, and he was Rjitljidge. still, on- j ly exaggerated —the more# tstlythe apparel, the more boorish the churl. However true the lam- j pooti of the poet in any dlection, Julia Sunder- J | land represented the nmjolty of her sex who was I first to discover the incowruity and folly of the! I man, who attempts with/mere external adorn- j rnents, to supply the absence of mind. Some few hours after me of the meetings he- | • tween Rutledge and Mrs!Sunderland—the char- | acter of which we have indicated—Mr. S. sought ! his niece, and after gerflly rating her for with- j ■ holding from him tliei secret which we have | seen lie had discovered,[gave her the full benefit of that discovery. ‘‘l aim truly glad,” continued , ; lie, ‘‘that this strange plot has cotne within my ; knowledge. We mibt grapple with the com batants, and if the tight is fierce and tnissils bur- | tie in the air, let them fall upon the worsted j I party —1 am your principal and shall shield you from harm. I will prove to you that my capaci- ; ty for wire-pulling is as strong as your aunt’s.— i YY’ill you consent to obey, without questioning 1 the motives for my commands ? You shall not be thrust beyond the propriety of becoming deli ;( eftcy. You will not ho, required to do any thing •t which strict justice to the conventional rules, of j propriety may not warrant. I can find persons ii who will cheerfully perform those parts which >! the completeness of my project suggests. You | shall in.thejoJcceis^of-thiL, a ; £ ; <{i , B^UMUfineduoof,-.^ jtmr expectationß in H , oer u hope that Jfnil >.i. nmrnwi auv\t!t*t) , bm) < \vitoOUt a reason. “A drowning man will catch at a straw, ’ so also will a man in the confusion ol ideas which frequent rejections ofan earnest pe tition engender, liang his hopes on the frailest evidence of kind treatment. Is it at all strange that a man ot the vanity of Rutlege, should feel his hopes reviving at the courteous reception he 1 met ! His eagerness to know the reason of the j radical change in external appearances, came ; well nigli destroying tlio plot which was now j maturing for him. He requested to'he assured that there was u change in sentiment towards I hipi corresponding to appearances. Julia feel-I ing all her contempt lor the tnan rising tip to i her pallid lip, at this recent manifestation of ore- i sumption, could scarcely restrain the verbal ex pression of her indignant scorn ; hut recollecting j her promise—although ignorant to what events it j might give birth—-determined to he faithful to the j letter ol the obligation it imposed upon her. With ; calmness she asked him, “Diet you ever consult | the horoscope of the astrologer’s? As much as | people may affect to despise the influence of the, | position of the Stars at birth, as explained Ly those who in olden time studied the signs of the Zodiac, I am not hold enough to desire to disre gard the destiny marked out for me by one upon whom their mantle lias fallen. If hope deferred, ‘does not make the heart too sick,’ [ would prefer j to withhold an answer to your question until 1 ! have studied more upon the outlines of the desti. j Jiy indicated for me. 1 have seen a magnifying Inns, which, although it does not borrow from the stars, collects from as unerring a source the for tunes of those who consult it.” She continued at considerable length, with a minute description of the person with whose for tunes her own were to he united. Rutledge face seemed illumined by mneourag,'— a ••eeognition of the person thus described —for to his y many points of the picture bore a striking lance to his own eirJutnstances and P er f 1 j well satisfied with It Kmin nieij, ilCTeqitifSleil the imme m , m.- .... -i toller, that he might consult her. He thought not impossible that the fortune-teller had noticed, i Ilia attention to Miss Sunderland, and taking ad- . i vantage of that knowledge, had shaped her stoiy j i so as to fit the circumstances ; and now if she j could know him as the very man of that fortune, i she might give him a story, which according with that fact, would strengthen the conviction of Julia j that he was the man. After learning the name Rutledge visited the old “hag of the hill at his | earliest leisure. He informed the old woman ; that she had a skeptical subject, and the only in i dubitahle evidence ot her skill would he to show j a knowledge of things past of his own | To his niter astonishment sfie gave, iirabiiel. t Imt comprehensive narrative, a truthful sketch ol I his whole life ; dwelling with the emphasis of j J certainly upon several disjfe.putablo points, which : j lie had fondly hoped were secure in his own ■breast. The old woman convinced him that it j was impossible for her to have acquired this | knowledge by any proximity to himself or laini- ■ j ly—it was the proof, as well as the result of her | magical lens. Convinced as far as the intimate i ! knowledge of the past was concerned, Rutledge I manifested a restless anxiety for the develop ! ments of that lens as to liis future. Scepticism I frittered away before such irrefragable proof. ’ Mystified at the strange results of his interview, lie submitted himself like one demented to the | direction of the woman lie invested with prophetic j vision. He stretched himself on a plank which J had been so arranged over the well, that assu j ming a horizontal position, his face turned heavenward, he could see the water, reflected in : a mirror before his eyes. “Now then, com | rnciiced the hug. “do you solemnly promise to i regard the award of this test in all matters per ! tabling to the heart?” “1 do,” was the guttural *. response. “Recollect then that it this miiror re- I fleets a female whose features you can recognize, | she is the being born under a star whose lights may mingle with that of your own. Scarcely had the magical mirror been placed pa ledges inflcnce in'Souvenii\^^Mß^| ~ -I fir CHAPTER IV. “ O, wad some l’ow’r the giftie gie us, To see oursels as others see 11s, It wad frae inony a blunder free us, And foolish notion ; What airs in dress and gait wad lea’e us, And e'en devotion !” It may reasonably be inferred, that Rutledge had no disposition to report the result of the well scene to Julia Sunderland, for he really began to suspect that she had contributed her smattering at painting to the materials which had produced the illusion. It such was the case, we have no hesitation in averring that she was : ignorant of the use to be made of it. lie was very silent in respect to the affair, and left no effort unturned to silence the fortune-teller in regard to the epitome of his biography, which she had so materially narrated. Poor fellow, , he little knew that the man who so abruptly ac costed him, as recorded in the first chapter of this story, had a reason for persecuting him a reason, the legitimate offspring of the school- | master’s own conduct in early life, his j to a warm-hearted patron, who subsequently, j but vet while writhiuo- imrlm- ! I U’ ll }' e * while writhing under the unexpected I j treachery, disclosed the secret. The reader will I j infer from this hint, the source whence, the inti- I I mate acquaintance, of the old woman with the ! almost forgotten secrets of Rutledge, was ac j quirt'd. It was too great an advantage to be j lost, by one who had just cause to despise Rut. j ledge supremely, and desired his Souvenir pe. destal to be destroyed. It is not strange, there fore, that these secrets became ordinary topics, and the efiorts ol the school-master to control the tongue of Mrs. Martel, and her persevering de maud lor the fulfilment of the obligations between them, while they enhanced the derision on the one hand and the humiliation on the other, stag gered the confidence of his best friends. The ‘peT'sWHttor trembled, lest the aspect of the case j might mfiiiir farther than he either an-1 tioipated or H* wouUl have been satis-! tied with lessthan^fct unequal Anion of Rutledge J fcndxhe - 4 “ L We shall not Undertake to describe the next 1 appearance of Tkiitledge at tlVe jNt.nffic tljo j theatre of his former glory. We presume his j tripod had been misplaced, as no effort was , made to bring it forward. The pride of Mrs. Sunderland was tenacious, and she affected to despise the current of popu lar opinion which had set in upon her subser vient friend. When she saw that he was dispo sed to kick at the mandate which ordered him to return to Julia, she determined to watch scru tinizingly the course ot events, and interpose every possible barrier which might embarrass j her neice. She was by no means satisfied to give up the contest, without another trial of skill. It was soon manifest to her that senti j ments of respect and probably love—at least so ! her vitiated mind interpreted it—were being etu changed between Jack Burt and Julia. Here was anew field for operations, and she lost no time tn making attempts to prejudice Burt, as to the character of the neice. But we must pass over several months, with out any farther allusion to their events, than to note a mysterious interview between Jack Burt, Mr. Sunderland and his niece, and the unnamed persecutor of Rutledge. All that transpired of the subject of that confabulation, was to this ef fect: that Rutledge, since his humiliation at Souvenir, had besieged the heart of a relation of the unnamed man—a young girl who lived in another neighborhood, and who seemed deter mined, in the face of all advice to the contrary, to yield herself his captive. Wo may suppose, from the character of sub sequent events, that this conclave determined upon measures to rescue the weak-minded girl from the influence ol Rutledge. A few weeks after this meeting, we shall take a look into the school-room, where the peda gogue is surrounded with his subjects, the birch en rod and other emblems of his authority. The scenes through which he had passed, had left traces of disappointment legibly graven upon his ‘ll dM r of long. But an mid came to this Ie returned the watch to Miss Sunderland, ith the hope llik she would find it true. Whilo hi pupils, who livyd at various distances from he academy are pursuing their way joyfully, let us dog the sow step; 0 f Rutledge, to see what ue rnaj gather of the import of the note which had produced such a visible effect upon his feel, mgs. Full half a mile in the rear of his frolic, some subjects, the recent “monarch of all he surveyed, moves thoughtfully along ,h e main load. Now a pause ol a few moments ensues, and he reads audibly from the slip of paper, the following doggerel: 11 “O, pray, dear sir, do you intend to marry, Or lonely and none in this wide world to tarrv 1” Now he recollected that Miss Sunderland had once said to him, (hat if she ever determined to reverse her decision concerning his proposiik” she would be likely to communicate that tact to*’ him by some means ; and although he was en-, gaged to a girl in another neighborhood, hdd would make any surrender for the heart of Julifl Had she relented ? The very severity nfl persecutions he Imd endured at the i:c-li| ol Julia, as he at times persuaded hinJjfl was a pa it of his hill, that hail hu.ua.ijß moie iilo-ly t.> loci 1 1 ,.- sling of rcmorJfl lent and (die r n'jiu; at uui |nr ];tr"e ithan oMd .•n.'-ii.'Jß l'"'d-. \\ it!, till In- builds, it i ie v. a- res,,l seine ;ji, tain ineauit.e ~f | A time Ibr a vi-it (|„, pas-ni in ved. i t jfl -* ‘ ‘ t'flate I lie ,ii s i,,; y i,f ,),pHil M ‘ (ad, “1 -ill illi it Julia. A ~** He t'dn we.i dad ■ *■ naan • JS J iii-h,u i ,ll ‘I I ■ 1 a:. ana 111,1 1 ’ 1 I : , a ■ a ■ ; , a V led idiu la in wan ant, ,! Ik reference i Julia. The sill-lice of till- ladjH la:,, ill a] ;i . . 11l ‘ i I'|e WHS i: I’ • V. dl, J,.\ , V tie- inlet •. ie W V. dll li || V. Ilj.'.a ( ol,h co’ii,;ieliug P r'v. ‘Uiie.-s ue atl^M ’ a iVUlit.tge of the 1.0 I able Odl.di, ueiii^H ’ placed u;,( >ti the silence oi Julia. He wi.hed the greatest publicity in tln^J bratioii of the nuptials. Such a connection with the character ol the was to form, would go far to impair the effectoß tlir* injurious reports, which hud. so far as he was™ concerned, mysteriously pervaded the commu nity. Ho dreamed of'the influence he had once exerted, and in his visions, the regalia and well known emblems of his former position were again at his command. Who can blame him ’ tor occasional improprieties of speech, when those whom he intended to overturn at truducers of his good name, were the subjects of his strictures! Now it must be remembered that Rutledge had pretty generally published his success in winning the heart of the neighboring belle, as a kind of set-off to expose the bad taste of Julia, and it is not strange that many of his acquaint ances felt some curiosity to understand his mode j of disposing of that affair, which must have occa i sioned him some trouble. Upon this point, how [ ever, he kept his own counsels. This subject I always suggested his obligations to Mrs. Martel, ! and the old lady ion to let th