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Y
[Tor ft# Southern Field end Flreelde.]
LINES, WRITTEN AT THE NATURAL BRIDGE
VIRGINIA.
Dolightful place! romantic scenes here meet,
In every varying form, my ravished eye—
Whether the tree-top waving far beneath my feet,
Or rocks, In grandeur towering toward the sky.
The dizzy heights, where eagles flap the wing,
The quiet glen, where shadows cast by trees
Invite the little birds their songs to sing.
And roaring floods—all have their charms to please.
Far down I gaze, where boiling waters foam,
And deck the beetling rocks with silver spray;
Or upward look, and see the azure dome
Resplendent with the rosy dawn of day
Here, madd'ning waters rush through caverns deep,
Leaping and raving in their onward flight;
There, far adown the vale, in quiet sleep,
They now reflect a flood of living light.
How beautiful the morn, while the clear sun
Tinges with golden beams rocks, hills, and trees,
And glitters on the waters bright that run
O'er rocky beds, and murmurs in the breeze.
The evening too is lovely, when the moon
Clothes with silver radiance forest and glade,
And gentle zephyrs, sporting with tho flowers,
Ounce in her beams, or linger in the shade.
Here, Nature’s impress, in its loveliest form,
Is stamped on all things by the Maker’s hand;
Here, I could stay, in sunshine or in storm,
Admiring scenes so beautiful, so grand !
M. L. B.
—
[For the Southern Field and Fireside.]
SETTING CAPS.
BY ARBXA.
Fannie Bell and myself were sitting before
a cozy fire in my uncle’s drawing room, a short
time after my graduation at Female Col
lege, joking each other of the conquests we
would make now that books were thrown
aside, and we were at liberty to mingle in so
ciety. Our good aunt Martha overheard us,
just as Fannie had declared that she would “set
her cap" for no man who had not won distinc
tion in the service of his country.
My dear girls,’ aunt Mat interposed, ‘does
not all of this strike you as being supremely
ridiculous?’
‘No, aunty,’ Fannie replied. ‘Now that my
education is completed, I will have to set my
cap for some ono you know, and why not for
the bravest and best ?’
‘I am very proud of the humblest private in
our noble army ; but I would be deeply morti
fied to know that either of my nieces had ‘set.
her cap,’ (as you term it,) even for a man whose
bravery has won the admiration of the whole
world and tho gratitude of the struggling
South, aunt Martha replied in a grave, troubled
voice. . , . ~,
‘Auntie,’ (Fannie said, speaking very rapidly,
in a half frightened tone,) ‘since I can remem
ber, several gentlemen have addressed you thßt
grandfather and every one except your selfish
nieces, were anxious to have you marry. Were
you never in love? Did you never set your
cop?’ . . ,
Yes anil failed. Your conversation to-night
has recalled the most painful part of my life.
Shall I tell you of having disgusted the only
man I ever loved. It is a short story, and may
prevent either of you becoming old maids, or
what is for worse, heartless coquettes. The last
year I remained at school, I corresponded with
a young lady who kept me posted in all the
news of the village in which my father resided.
During the last two months, she wrote of no
oue except two gentlemen who had moved to
the village after I left home. One she ppre
sented as being a perfect love of a man —the
handsomest, most graceful and agreeable gen
tleman of her acquaintance. Then ho dressed
so beautifully, and repeated poetry with such
deep feeling. All the girls were trying to catch
him. Thia paragon of perfection was Mr. By
ron. The other, Mr. Smith; and Mr. Smith
was old, ugly, awkward and talked sense
through his nose. Yet, she was certain the
first thiDg my mother would tell mo after I
was in the house, would bo that Mr. Smith had
purchased Dr. Dean's and Mr. Jones’ planta
tions, worked r. hundred hands, waS an estim
able gentleman, and that I 'must render myself
very agreeable when he called; but there was
a Mr. Byron living in town, a poor foppish law
yer. that I must treat with coldness. All of
this excited my curiosity. I regarded Mr.
Smith with a kind of pitying contempt, and
determined to hate and slight him if mother
did as Lizzie Lawton said. I was very anxious
to meet Mr. Byron, and the week after I re
turned home my wish was gratified, for he and
Mr. Smith called.
Mother had never mentioned the existence
of either of these gentlemen. We were having
a cozy time in the drawing room, when the
servant hauded brother Henry two cards.—
They, are for you, Matt. Apollo and Vulcan
are in the parlor. Now do try and captivate
Mr. Byron. I would like to have a brother-in
law who sports diamonds and drives fast
horses, he said, tossing the cards in my laP-
Mother told me with a queer smile that she
V was suie that I would follow Henry’s advice,
(T) but not to forget I was in my father’s house,
ss*®"
THE SOUTHERN FIELD AND FIRESIDE.
and slight poor Mr. Smith, though all the girls
said he was an old fogy, and she really ex
pected that he was a great bore, but to try and
treat him with politeness. I will never forget
bow cruelly disappointed I was in Mr. Byron’s
appearance. Apollo, indeed! a conceited fop,
who did nothing but turn his diamond ring,
roll his eyes, and repeat poetry. Foolish
school girl, as I was, I could not help being
perfectly disgusted. Mr. Smith was old, ugly,
timid, and awkward, but a glance sufficed to
show me—even during the short call —that be
neath a rough exterior, a diamond of rare bril
liancy was concealed. I caught more than one
glimpse of a beautiful heart that would newer
grow old. I was conscious that from that even
ing he regarded me with more than ordinary
interest. I know that he watched my every
act, and I was content that he should, for I al
ways found him a just and lenient judge. I
thought the love which had almost unconsci
ously wound itself around my very heart
ntrings was returned with fervor, for his eyes
when they rested upon me were eloquent with
tenderness, and his voice low and often tremu
lous when speaking to me. Yet one year
rolled by and he had never told me in words
that the precious boon I craved was mine.
I was thinking of this one day when Lizzie
came to my father’s. ‘I ash here this evening
for the express purpose, Matt, to enquire into
the existing state of affairs between Mr. Smith
and yourself. You see I will never have a mo
ment’s peace at home until Mr. Smith and his
negroes are disposed of. lam very much in
terested, and want to know why you don't
marry him if you intend to?’ she said laugh
ingly.
‘Mr. Smith has never asked me to marry
him, Lizzio,’ I replied; my voice would tremble,
and the burning blush which spread over my
face satisfied her (so she said) that I would
marry Mr. Smith were he to offer me his band.
She was very anxious that I should. Why did
I not bring him to a propqsal, for every one
said he only wanted a little encouragement to
bring him to my feet—money bags aud planta
tion —though she did not think I cared for his
property, as my father was wealthy. She real
ly believed I was foolish enough to love the
man tor the many good qualities the old peo
ple had discovered m him. For her part, she
could see nothing attractive about him, but if I
did, she would tell me how to bring matters to
a close.
‘How would you advise loe to act ?’ I asked
half jestingly, half in earnest.
‘Why in the first place,’ slse replied, ‘you
must know that Mr. Smith is painfully aware
of his personal defects, is particularly sensitive
about his voice, the nasal twang which grates
so harshly on the ear; says that no lady could
love him or would not marry him if he were
poor. Now, the first thing for you to do is to
discourse eloquently of the superiority of men
tal beauty, and moral worth ; let him know
what little value you attach to a handsome ex
terior and graceful address.’ ‘Set your cap for
him in earnest-, give him boquets with the em
blem of all the love flowers in it; show him all
the sentimental verses in the candy wrappers;
in short, be as love sick as you please; iie will
bo delighted with every proof of interest in
him; and, if you will commence a conversation
on the interesting subject of love, he will end
it by making you a proposal of marriage.—
Then when ma finds that Mr. Smith is no
longer in the matrimonial market, she will al
low me to accept Mr. Byron, who has made
me an offer of his hand. Remember and act
upon the hints I have given you at the picnic
to-morrow. I intend getting up a sociable at
our house ill the evening. The next day, I
shall come again to congratulate you as the af
fianced of the estimable Mr. Smith.’
With shame 1 confess I did all that she de
sired. Mr. Smith listened to all I had to sty,
in a quiet, grave manner that I did not under
stand. lie was surprised when I gave him the
boquet, with the emblem of particular flowers,
and did not seem as delighted as Lizzie sup
posed he would when T selected several verses
which were very sentimental. I thought then,
I knov’ now, that he looked disgusted while
reading them. Still he was confused, very
much confused. This I thought a favorable
sign, and was mad enough to persist in my en
deavors to force him into a proposal of mar
riage. I will not tell you all the ridiculous
things I said and did during the day and at
the sociable that night. Suffice it to say that
had he been ten times as modest he could not
have avoided reading my motives. A short
time before the party broke up. we were sitting
by a table, (I manceuvereffto keep him by my
side the whole ovening), he negligently turning
over the leaves of a book. Something attracted
his attention, he read it over, wrote something
on the margin, handed me the volume, and left
the room. The lines he had underscored were :
u For lady is it very wrong ?
We hate you when you lovo top long.’’
Under it was written —you are either merce
nary or a coquette. I am disappointed and
grieved! You have aroused me lri>m a sweet,
presumptious dream. I had hoped to win your
love, and will always feel an interest in your
welfare. And as one who wishes yon well, al
low mo to say that few gentlemen prize a love
given unasked. A coquette may enable us to
. wile away a pleasant hour, but would never.
make a home happy. Forgive me, if my too
i plain speaking wounds your vanity.’
Heaven is my witness that I had not acted
from mercenary motives, that I was not a co-
quette; bmai I had given my love unasked, and I
I bad distrusted where I bad hoped to pleaae.
I read lines time and again. I could aot j
understand! their cruel meaning; the letter
swam before my eyes. My pale lace attracted
Lizzie’s a xtention, and she came to me asking
in alarm As I was ill. This restored in a de
gree my I deaired her to bring
me a glass of water. As soon as her back
waa to me, I tore the leaf from the
book, fcmrmd brother Henry, and returned home.
But before I left I whispered with my frozen
lips to Li izzie that she need not come in the
morning congratulations; that I would
never mar —ry; and her face became almost as
pale as mine. That night she ran away with
Mr. Byro*a. Her parents never forgave her,
and her hmxsband, disappointed m receiving the
fortune h«e expected, drank and treated her
unkindly. Poor girl! she is a miserable wo
man—a wife. She succeeded in
captivatin jgg her lover, I failed. Yet, I am far
happier tt& an she can ever hope to be. Rest
assured, my dears, that a man you have to set
yeurcaps for, in order to fascinate, either will
not prize your love, or else he is not worth
‘catching.^ 1
We wewre at home when aunt Matt finished
her story —. Fannie and I have read some
where th ®t, under the ashes of a dead love,
there remains hidden glowing coals,
and we winder whether auntie still loves Mr.
Smith. S. he is a model old maid—the friend
of the podxr and distressed. She says she is
contented and happy in the sphere God has
allotted. We believe she is; yet, Fannie and
I often wi ah that her old lover could meet her
now, coul«J know of the treasure he had cast
from him. —its inestimable value. We know
such a kii —loving daughter and aunt would
have made a good wife. She hag made our
home the dearest spot on earth to us, and the ■
would rendered his home a happy one.
We wish tie could knew her as well as we do,
and we oh I how we wish, that she had
never set her cap for Mr. Smith, —it would
have sparged her those long years of auffering
through she passed before ahe became—
Fannie sam.ja one of the seven, now a greater
wonder tl aan any of the seven wonders if the
world—a contented old maid.
Both F*annio and I have made a vow, which
we inten <i keeping, never to set our caps for
anyone, «ven if we were sure of being able to
c apfivate him.
[Foaar tha Southern Field and Fireside.]
MONARCHICAL LIAHIHGS
CONCLUDED.
What aauperior advantage* does a monarchi
cal posse »s over a republican form of govern
ment ? ClArant it to be more stable, this boasted
stability 1 s purchased at the expense of liberty.
Even mo a xarchieiar* by no means exempt from
the grea d. law of change, from bloody revolu
tions and ruinous wara. But granting them to
be more aw table and less exposed to change and
revolution. this permanence is only secured by
fettering the freedom of opinion and of the
press, by" tyrannical laws, and by employing
brute forcre and standing armies to restrain the
efforts of the people to throw off the yoke of
tyrannica 1 power. There is no people on the
globe theat enjoy as large a measure of indi
vidual a*=ad national liberty as the American
people ve enjoyed. When we set up a kingly
governing? nt, we must divest ourselves of a
part of o nr liberties, and school ourselves to
submit the rule and authority of a master.
Are the p»eople prepared to make this sacrifice ?
Are they ready to barter liberty for stability of
government? Do they want te be cowed,
bullied and dragooned by standing armies, com
posed of hireling soldiers? Do they want to
be trampled upon by an insolent hereditary
aristocraczrr ? Do they want to be ground to
powder fcaey taxes, which are to foed the prodi
gal taste m and lustful passions of a royal pup
pet aud Mx is cringing courtiers? Do they wish
to see Cfcnurcb and State united? Do they de
sire to wee the press muzzled by a vigorous
censorsh ip? Do they desire to see the many
oppresses!. maltreated, buflfetted and despised,
that the few may roll in undeserved wealth,
and riot A n profligacy and luxury ? If the peo
ple are so weary of liberty and so much in
love wittra despotism, let them set up a kingly
g n vernm -«nt, and they will drain to the dregs
the bitte t cup of oppression.
A kin. g without an aristocracy would be a
phenomes- non never witnessed—the play of
Hamlet, with the part of Hamlet omitted—so
that, msstead of being tormented with o»e
devil, wo should have seven to worry u*. It
is absurd! to dream of a monarchy without an
aristocra. ey. If we take a monarchy, we muat
receive it cum oneris. Do we want two or
three hundred lords to bully aud oppress ua—
to comm, and our armies and fill our offices by
virtue or birth rather than merit, and to receive
from a k=:ing the taxes wrung from the people ?
Ido not believe the people are so much in love
with mczxnarchy as to surrender their liberties
aud rigt» ts in order to secure its problematical
benefits
What is the great argument in favor of mon
archy? It is its fancied stability, and nothing
else. We have shewn that this stability, if it
really esKistg, is only obtained by th* sacrifice
•of those liberties which ought to be dearer than
life itseMf. What is a man profited if he pur
chases am stable government at the price of his
liberties. ? But i; may be said that a monarchi
cal forrwo of government is not incompatible
with the enjoyment of rational liberty, and that
we can hedge in royalty so as to prevent its
ever being oppressive? This is a dream. I
should not fancy a rattlesnake for a plaything,
even were its fangs pulled out, nor choose to
sleep with my head in the month of a lion, even
if he was tamed. Kings are not apt to respect
paper constitutions, especially when they have
a standing army at hand to repress the com
plaints, and silence the murmurs of the people
with the musket and bayonet. Kings never
have respected written constitutions, and hu
man nature is not one whit better than it was
in the olden time.
The idea of selecting rulers from the acci
dtncy of birth instead of merit is degrading to
our personal manhood. Talent and worth
should alone command our respect, our admira
tion, and our suffrages. Monarchy rests on the
assumption that talent and worth may be trans- ■
mitted, indeed that they are invariably trans
mitted from sire to son, tmd that a person, who
is unfit for the lowest -station in the govern
ment, is capable of guiding the fate and destiny
of millions of men superior to him in every
point of view. Kings “ born in the purple,”
and pampered in pride and profligacy, are either
king logs, or king storks, with no other recom
mendation than that of birth. History, if
searched, will abundantly verify this truth.
Shall it be said God established of favored A
monarchy, and that for that reason it is to be ™
held in higher estimation (han a republican
form'? Away with the pretension and the ar
rant falsehood. When the, Jews desired a
king to rule over them, and importuned Samuel
—the prophet of thd living God —to give or
appoint them a king, be endeavored to per
suade them to forego their folly, and what be
uttered was put in his mouth by the Almighty.
Never was there a more faithful and graphic
. portraiture of monarchy, nor a severer condem
nation of it. So far from sanctioning, God se
verely condemned the demand of the Jews for
a king. The arguments of Samuel to dissuade
the Jews from their purpose cannot be im
proved, and I, therefore, make no apology for
quoting them here:
‘‘This will be the manner of the king that
shall reign over you: he will take your sons,
and appoint them for himself, for his chariots,
and to be his horsemen; and some shall run
before his chariots.
“ And he will appoint him captains over
thousands, and captains over fifties; and will
set them to ear bis ground, and to reap his har
vests, and to make his instruments of war. and
instruments of his chariots.
‘‘ And be will take your daughters to be con
fectionaries, and to be cooks, and to be bakers.
“And he will take your fields, and your
vineyard*, and your olive yards, even the best of
them, and give them to his servants.
“ And he will take the tenth of your seed,
and of your vineyards, and give to his officers
and servants.
“ And he will take your men servants, and
your maid servants, and your goodliest young
men, and your asses, and put them to his vjork.
He will take the tenth of your sheep: and ye
shall be his servants.
“ And ye shall cry out iu that day because
of your king which ye shall have chosen you,
but the Lord will not hear you iu that day.”
Samuel, who was on that occasion the conduit
of God’s views, thus speaks to every man iu
the Confederate States to-day. The passages
I have quoted from the Bible were not merely
intended to serve a temporary purpose, or to
operate on tbs Jews, but to guide and enlight
en mankind in all ages. They are as truthful,
just, pertinent and authoritative to-day as wneu
Samuel uttered them. That they condemn
monarchy, is indisputable ; that Samuel chew
a faithful picture of monarchy, is proven by
every page of sacred and profane history. He
tells us to-day that, if we choose a king, that
he will take our “fields,” and our vineyards,
and olive yards, even the best of them, aud
give them to hia servants, “that we shall be
the servants” of such king. How then comes
it that men seem to believe that God is partial
to monarchy ? How does it happen that pro
fessed Christians with this unequivocal con
demnation of monarchy by the Creator staring
them plumply in the face, are so ready to
choose a king to rule over us ? It really seems
they of all men should be the most inflexibly
hostile to monarchy, lest they too “cry out,” in
that day, “because of their king, which they
have chosen, and the Lord refuse to hear them
■ in that day.”
The Southern press have received with cold
indifference, or cordial approbation, the project
of Louis Napoleon to found a monarchy in our
neighbor, Mexico. The celebrated Monroe doc
trine has suddenly become distaste'ul to tis.
and is thrust into the limbo of worn out pulni
cal trumpery. lam sorry to see our press !*o
much unconcerned at the daring scheme ol the
French Emperor to establish a monarchy on
our borders. If we are so circumstanced as
not to be able effectively to protest against
and to resist the consummation of this scheme,
we might at least give vent to our dissent and
opposition through the press. I fear the tame
ness and complacency with which the bouthern
press receives the announcement of the French
Emperor’s scheme is but a premonitory symp
ton of what is to befall us—but auother prool
of the growing partiality for monarchy among
the people of the Confederate States.
It is not a little remarkable and strange that
the strongest advocates of a monarchy are
found among those who stood forward most
stoutly as the enemies of a centralized and con- q
*