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novel air of authority which bed characterized
hie former address, “ the forest is very lovely at
this season of the year; and as I chanced to
encounter you, on my walk, we may as well
keep each other company."
Isabel inclined her head, but replied:
“ I cannot go far, sir, as too much exercise
fatigues me."
"That is because what'l told you the other
day is true—you are not well, my daughter.”
Isabel made no reply, but walked on slowly
in silence.
She was. not looking at her companion, or she
Kild have been startled by the expressions
ch chased each other across bis face,
irst came a sudden flush, sb of anger min
l with wretchedness, which was suoceeded
by a deadly pedlor. Then as be continued to
gaze at the delicate profile of the girl, her snowy
neck, and the beautifu. hair falling in soft curls
upon her shoulders, this expression disappeared,
and was sncceeded by one of the most passion
ate admiration.
There was something piteous, terrible, in this
look, cast on a girl of eighteen by a man of
fifty—and that man a priest of the Catholic
Church, for there was no possibility of mistaking
its signification. It was the ardent and passion
ate gaze of a lover —not the paternal glaze of an
affectionate friend or father. It conveyed all
the passion, ardour and fire of a mar’s h ve for
a woman whom he wishes to make his , i'e.
- Then with a quick guilty tremoor.udoep - ?b,
and a sudden compression of the lip. Father Ig
natius turned away his eyes from the danger
ous temptation—and exe: ing all his self-control, j
became calm again.
It was well that ho did so Isubtd, who had ,
patiently awaited the promis' d communication, ’
raised her head and fixed her eyes upon her
companion with a glance of enquiry.
Had she seen either the wrath and wretched
ness, or the passionate admiration, she would I
have shrunk from Ins side as from a venomous
reptile. She saw a calm, collected taco which
smiled with an air of authority.
“ I see that you expect me to spear. iny
daughter,” said Father Ignatius, “ but your man
ner to me is very cold, and it has occurred to
me that your protestant training has not habit
uated you to my style of address." *
“ Your style of address, sir?"
“ Yes' my dear young lady—to my addressing
you as 1 my daughter.’ ”
“It is a matter of no Importance, sir. I scarce
ly noticed it"
The words were as cold as before, for Isabel
did not like Father Ignatius, and she was too
sincere to pretend to do so.
“You know it is the habit of priests."
“Yes, sir.”
“And even if I were a young man no older
than yourself—nay, if I were younger, I should
address you in a similar manner as my daugh
ter.”
“It is not at all disagreeable, sir: and I have
been so spoken to by youngor priests than your
self, as you say—in the great wilderness."
"Ah 1 by younger priests ?"
"Yes, sir; missionaries."
“It was rather dangerous, I fancy."
“Dangerous, sir?"
“ I mean to them."
“ How, possibly ?”
A gathering smile, so to speak, touched upon
the face of the priest as he said:
“ Men are always men.”
“ 1 do not understand, sir," said Isabel, laugh
ing at her companion with unaffected surprise.
did not
XKK BOTOKWr &XB&9 JOT IIEXSIIH.
“ Yery well, my dear young lady,” said Fa
ther Ignatius, warned in time by the expression
of the girl’s face—“you will pardon this appa
rently singular conversation. You must know
that I am an eccentric personage, mnch given to
philosophy. My propensity to penetrate the
secrete of human nature is irresistible; and thus
you will not be offended lit my annoyiqg cross
examination, as it were.”
“Oh, not at all,sir!” said Isabel, completely
deceived by these wily words, which were ut
tered in a tone of the greatest candour and sim
plicity—“where no bad motive can eiiat I
should be very unreasonable to take offence?"
“ Then I may ask you one or two other ques
tions, of a purely speculative character ? ”
“Certainly, sir,” replied Isabel, wondering
anew why her companion did not make the
communication he had referred to.
“ Again you will not be offended ? ”
“ I will not, sir.”
11 Then tell me—what would you do if a priest,
to use the colloquial phrase, fell in love with
you ? ”
“Whatwould I do, sir?”
“ Exactly, my daughter.”
“ I suppose I should avoid him, sir, and pray
that he might not continue to cherish a feeling
which his vows rendered sinful."
“ And if he could not help it ?"
“ He surely could 1”
“If you think so you have not read human
nature deeply I Imagine," continued the priest,
to whose livid face a blush slowly mounted, and
whose eyes began to glow ns he proceeded,
“ suppose that the religious strength of the
voung prießt I refer to was too feeble. Suppose
| that, in spite of all his struggles, lie could not
! pri - ant himself from loving a young lady, as a
young gentleman would love her I Suppose
that lie fought his passion, and tossed on his
sleepless couch, and prayed, and wept, and
moaned t! rough the weary hours of the raiser
! able night! Suppose that, in spite of a wasted
1 frame, a pa!. cheek, and blood-shet eyes, from
sleepless w rest ling with his awful sin, he should
atil! cling to it -find himself unebb to resist
it give his soul for a woman, and be ready to
plunge into eternal damnation for a kiss—a ca
ress 1 i?uppoßO that you were loved in such a
manner?—that the devil of passion had seized
on a priest, and you wore ’ ’ object?—wbat
would you <li\ Isabel Suv" what would
yot say of that' man
A. spoke, it;- md .u, who had •>-. ty
too tri ly I'iouteu Vais "'ii, bee use
totlieguL with chip ,r . T yv ‘ • JJPJ
that write. d in ar >row /hich
streamed wtiii icy t"“r
She looked up, ; * milled at tin terri
ble mask rati- «tnsn I’aee i
glance which gr -of own rentaim bsu tier
memory for ye' rs. \
A host of r >nsi »*>(*’- bosom —a
vague wonde , i-ar, p|ty- horror. be scurjely
knew what t think] wh'“ " to If jk, or with
what word- to rep' I- Hud Father Ignatius
1)0011 seize* will' i yAjfi*l**ii luillueitjirtl®©*"'® fit
of madne- or ha / 1 he on ' “ f mmitted this
terrible in which / I,L P Blll1 *' 1 »“ Bueh *ivid
colours?’ / ~ r
She I-old not /aeide, ana r m seeking for
some*reply wliicV* would t*** ' iloste the insor
view when, for, innately, the- <ay voices of the
you’ Uni revi -tiers were hn.ird on the opposite
bar's, ud ty*} were soon .pproaching rapidly
ir t!ii If.r-yfe boat used for p antation purposes.
r M ,/aunot reply to rue how,” said Path. ■
' iiruiit.mktn n low hollow voice and wiping tty
=Z==Zs==r- : =====
(For Uia Son them Kit K sad Fireside.)
A &YTKO SPIRITS HTXH.
“HfAkl they «b , ■■ r-taffda t»T
Bi.M» spirit, oror w*y.' "
'4ot wrroe inf,
V .Jn/)igHj exultant I would go!
Wtter tears should flow
For one Aam angel aonga are welcoming
£*th»t bright home,
Where Sewer Pain, or Sin, or Sorrow come.
Kb doubt, no fear, 4
Dima th| bright mirror of my Spirit’s Faith;
I are the upward path
With hcarenly glory stream, while soft and clear,
iibn from afar.
My “suf|and certain Hope" ahlnea like a star.
As in a dream,
Pass th* aweet summers of my earthly life,
With Innocent gladness rife;
Their mom’ry wakes no sigh—far dearer seem
The Joys shore,
All crown'd and radiant with Redeeming Lore!
"face the Hills,
The F.roriasriug Hills in glory rise!
ifnd ireiu these weary eyes
The ctou<V are rent away—my Spirit thrills
With ecstary;
Fain woMd I break my fetters and be free!
farewell,
I who awhile must linger here;
re not, but think how dear
Are those ln Heaven, with whom Igo to dwell:
We'll meet again
In purealtfoy eternally to reign.
vhon wilt not fail,
O my Jttlttmer and my glorious King !
Th mighty power to bring
Tby child triumphantly through Death’s dark vtje ;
■ Shy feet have trod W
The aj&n path before me, O my God !
winging to Thee 1
Secnrirw Thy dear love I eloae mine eyes,
in perfect trust to rise,
Ran aortal by Thee to Immortality!
yjbetour l I come,
0 best -fcy Spirit to Thy bleased home!
Mat.
Charlestons *C.
irh the Southern Field and Fireside.]
LIBERTY IN THE OVERPLUS.
(Not a Foui U-of-Juljr Oration.)
BY M 'EY £. DRY AN.
To* tut Jortf.i v.nerican Rooster—Eagle, par
coonsey* -limprovt - every opportunity of mount
ing tin* oeigbtn >C ; self-complacency and pro
•loumne, with a, .ich Sapping of wings and
exorcise o' lungs, i Be beatitude of the American
people ’ ‘ 'b'lepWKWt -w
lion.” a i **»• as, onlighiened, happy, pref I
rep italic ■ , w tie trhjmpnaut cocK a*d»o<ile- j
doo. ' V lindly thundered (rom the j
stump 1 ohtical/' ilec and lorn tb -of.
July .tew, v*dted by patriotism •
: and tori (1.-. . (nithueiaatwiratnr forgets :
Con* in d squaoble# io dis
Springing usually from that hot-bed of socia 1
corrupt**—the city of New York, their winged
geeda[ full of inaidiouß poison, though ingenious
ly enwrapped in the silken down of sophistry,
are/borne by the breath of the Press to every
part of"the land.
These isms are in most instances founded up
on the assumption that each individual has a
right to be a “law unto himself;” and upon a
contempt of all existing fixed social regulations
whether human or divine, though often the
mantle of a plausible sophistry conceals their
darker features. Their apostles are usually en
dowed with the gift of “ much speaking.”—
“Reform.'’ “social emancipation,” “perfectlib
erty of thought and action,” are the watchwords
constantly upon the lips of these, and they seek,
by the braying of their brazen trumpets of de
nunciation, to level the barriers of society and
fortifications of ancieDt and hallowed institutions,
as the Israelites of old overthrew, by the blast
of their horns, the walls oC Jericho. Over the
ruins of these old faiths and ayst ems they would
build a new society, a new religion, founded up
on more liberal principles. A liberty which
means license! a society deprived of all the sure
and sacred ties that now bind K together! a re
ligion, cut and trimmed to suit their own selfish
purposes, to accord with their own perverted
views. " .
A single glass of wine clears the brain, an
additional dozen confuses it; many excellent
medicines become poisons when taken in exces
sive quantities. And the moral world bears a
close analogy to the physical. Things, admira
ble in moderation, become injurious when in
dulged in to extreme. It is possible that the
spirit which shook off the yoke’of British bond
age, may carry its idea of independents too far;
that the famous Eagle which soared above the
shafts of tyranny, may soar beyond the regions
of common sense, unless its wings be clipped by
Reason. This is exemplified by that interesting
colony established at Salt I<ake City, in open
defiance to the laws of God and of the country.
In fact, a alight tendency to monomania on the
subject of liberty, is observable throughout the
family of Brother Jonathan, from the urchin of
a dozen years, defiant of parental authority and
insisting upon his right to cigars and brandy
cocktails, to the female of strong mind and Ro
man nose, advocating the independence of her
sex from the height of a New York platform,
and loudly clamouring for equal privileges and
pantaloons.
Apropos of women, it is no less true than pit
iable, that many'of the ultra liberal systems of
which America is so prolific, have females for
tbeir originators and defenders. Debarred from
the privilege of glorifying the national divinity
of liberty on the legitimate stump and rostrum,
women, not to be outdone, erect a platform of
their own, and insist upon independence of
opinion in relation to their pet creeds and socie
ties—such as Spiritualism, Woman’s Rights,
Free Love, etc., etc.
This last named ’iam is moat insidious and
dangerous of all. It is too revolting for discus
sion in its mdre SB pen manifestations at the
North, where it has culminated into a society,
and where women of intelligence opeuly assert
theiv contempt of tha marriage bond and their
right to ctn re husbands, as they do dresses,
according v heir inclinations.
! Chari tub) Jb rowing the! mantle of lunacy
: over -.n'i meless licontipusnesa, a straighl
,t-ket n.igh: >e Suggested aa the moat proper
a ,*J cifcei Argument to be used against it;
out it mi ■ 9 startling tojßnd tbatjrae. incur
all naughty urchins—and children of a larged
growth,—when detected in the perpetration lot
mischief—namely, laying the blame upon
body else. France is the ancient scape-goet,
upon whose back the burden at our social sips
and follies has been laid ever since we possess
ed a nationality. The Press, in its periodical
fits of virtuous indignation, contents itself with
denouncing the land of Frog Eaters, and all
French importations from farthingales to free
morals.
“French romances and Madame Sand!” is
the stereotyped cry, though I have yet to see
the French novel that equals in coarse and de
grading immorality those es Reynolds, and of .
“our own Mrs. Southworth,” as the Ledger
ites delight to call her. George Sand, with all
her bold, bad books, brimful of a powerful, but
erring genius, hah written nothing so grossly
and sickemngly sensual as some parts of that
same famous “ Doom of Deville,” whose praise
formed the staple literary conversation of bo
many ladies last year. ,
If France is. indeed, the mother our Ameri
can naughtiness, we have cerrsinlv escaped
from leading strings and are finally “out 4 as
our maternal parent,” no doubt, “ knows,"
since the Venus of Mr. Page, which was last
year hissed from the Art Galleries of Paris be
caus< of its indecency, found a welcome iu.N“W
York and was afterwards exhibited to adn ring
spectators through the length acd-breadthof our
land
in all seriousness, our immorality is not
Parr&inn. It is our own and partakes of the
national characteristics.
French immorality is gay, flippant, careless,
attempting no justification of itself, and content
with its prettily painted, but quite transparent
mask; ours is grave, earnest, seeking rather to
remodel social laws than to break them, self
deceiving, restless, and active, yet serious even
to sadness, and sometimes shrieking forth in
bitter impatience and defiance; endeavouring to
justify itself by the false, but fascinating, theory
of individual independence, and the right of man
to make his own inclinations the law by which
hia actions are governed.
It is a dariDg and dangerous spirit, even here
among us, where we see it in occasional glimp
ses, with its cloven foot encased in a slipper of
black satin and the sombre robes of a melancho
ly muse trailing around it. It is a spirit which
needs to be humiliated, to be chastened into
patience and gentleness, and to bo taught a more
humble depeudence upon God and a deeper rev
erence for the just and sufficient laws that He
has given to maukind through the Bible. Per
haps the lesson may yet be taught it, and
throagh stern instrumentalities. It may be,
that through fierce public suffering and anxiety,
our country shall learn to use rightly her gl
rious gift of liberty. Perhaps she has
plethoric, that the rich, free blood that fills hx_
veins has mounted to her brain, and blood lett •
ting may become necessary; as in France, when
the hot spirit of the nation frets itself into a
fever that nothing but loss of blood will cool.
They do their own phlebobomy on a grand scale
there; are we to copy them in this respect also?
—• ii
TARSHIBH-WHERE WAS HI <
Sir Emerson Tennent, in his recent work on
Ceylon—a work, by the way, of great value and
interest both to the scholar and the ' general
reader—advices strong grounds for the belief
that Tarsliisß was in Ceylon, and probably at oV
near Point JQaUe. Malaoc ■- it is well knOWIA
GreekV