The independent press. (Abbeville C.H., S.C.) 1853-1860, April 08, 1859, Image 1
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BY W. A. LEE AND HUGH WILSON. ABBEVILLE C. II., SOUTH CAROLINA, FRIDAY MORNING, APRIL 8, 1859. VOLUME YI.-NO. 49.
The Winds of March are Humming.
n? FITZ ORKKNB IIAU.ECK.
The 'winds of March are humming
Their parting song, their parting song,
And summer skies are comign.
And days grow long, and days grow long.
I Watch, but not in gladness,
Ourearden tree, our garden tree ;
It huds, in sober sadness.
Too soon for me, too soon for me.
My second winter's over,
Alas! snd I alnsl nnd I
*t ? - ? - -
ajldtc iiu nwepteu lover ;
Don't ask me wh}-, don't ask me why.
'Tia nut asleep or idle
That love has been, that love has been ;
For many a happy bridal
The year baa seen, the year has seen ;
I've done & bridemaid's duty.
At three or four, at three or four;
My best bouquet had beauty.
Its donor more, its donor more.
My second winter's over,
Alas! and I, alns! and I
Have no accepted lover:
Don't ask me why, don't nik me why.
His flowers my bosom shaded
One sunn* day, one sunny day ;
The next, they fled and faded,
Beau and bouquette, beau and bouquette.
In vain, at ball and parties,
I've thrown my net, I've thrown my net;
This waltzini?. watching heart is
Uncho3en yet, unchosen yet.
My second winter's over,
Ales 1 and I alusl and I
Have no accepted lover:
Don't ask me why, don't ask me why.
They tell me there's no hurry
For Hymen's ring, for Hymen's ring ;
And I'm too young to marry :
'Tis no such thing, 'tis no such thing.
The next, spring tides will dash on
My eighteenth year, my eighteenth year:
It puts ine in a passion.
Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, oh dear I
My second winter's over,
Alas I and I alas 1 and I
Have no accepted lover:
Don't ask me why. don't ask me why.
JU V JUU 1 1U u.
In the summer evenings.
When the wind blew low,
And the skies were raditnt
With the sunset glow?
Thou and I were happy.
Long, long years ago 1
Love, the young and hopeful,
Hovered o'er us twain.
Filled us with *ad pleasure
And delicious pain?
In the summer evenings,
Wauderiug in the lane.
In the winter evenings.
When the wild winds roar
Blustering at the chimney,
Piping at the door?
Thou and T are happy,
As in days of yore.
Lore atill hovers o'er us,
Robed in white attire,
L/rawiny neaveniv music
From an earlhly lyre?
In the winter evening*,
Sitting by the fire.
rFOR THE INDEPENDENT PRESS J
INCIDENTS OF THE
MEXICAN CAMPAIGN,
BY A MEMBER OF THE PALMETTO REGIMENT
March to Puebla Continued.
As far a* the vision could scan the plain no
object appeared in view to mark the locality of
water or tliatof a settlement. All the green
herb we have seen in the past two days march,
is a species of cactus of the size of one's fist, and
VMAmhlinfP m fnnn/1 rnnlr TKn A
printed with their delicate blooms, and from
their midst a lone bird flew up. which ^as probably
the only inhabitant of the parched plain.
At 2 o'clock p.m., we noted some strange
objects looming in the distance, that excited
good deal of speculation. Our teams were
the first to divine their meaning nnd from
their constant neighing and accelerated movements,
I was led to coincide with their animal
instincts. A nearer approach revealed a cluster
of dirt hovels, that were occupied by as
rascally lookiog and vagabond a aet as ever
graced a prison walls. They did not appear to
be beggars, and how they lived otherwise, is a
mvstorv ma Th?n ... ?:?u - I?
^ ?tj-, a iivj |^? uroui/uu UD WHU I* WHO"
ket of fine fruit for which we paid them liber,
ally; we could not possibly drink the water
contained in the shallow wells, it being so
strongly impregnated with lime.
The column halted here about two minutes
which was all the relaxation we enjoyed today.
The sun is melting hot and the plaie is
now covered in many places with pure lime,
that rendered walking still more disagreeable
nd tiresome. To our left we observed many
hills that wera evidently coated with the same
material. This denouepent was a knockdown
argucicutto a certain one of our men,
who while at Jalapa had amused us with the
theory,'tbat it was chalk or lime that bleached
th* summit of Orizava. The volcano of Popo
eatapetel rivaling in majestic splendor the
heights of that mountain now arose to view,
towering above the summit* of the Western
mountains. 'Sole Monarch of the boundless
plain, its summit is mantled with eternal
snow, and presents a grand feature in the forngtftion
of the country, and having such a marked
influence upon the productions of this climate.*
Its elevation is 17,860 feet above the
level of the sea, and 6,000 feet above the plains
of Ptkbb.
Oar ropti now made a gradual curve to tbo
1MB. hu we ware giaa even or Una change,
end the mHh ofhilla, skirting the plafa oo
either ejde, aeentydto approximate io front of
us, And only leaving a narrow pass between
tbe?v When we had reaohed this point, the
piree of Gotbio eharoh <pyw?e<l io Hx 4bP
tance towering above a grove of gigantic treec*
both of which promised streams or pools of water.
As we drew near the place, an extended
liiwo carpeted with luxuriant green appeared
on our left, and then tricking itself away to the
South as far as the eye could resell* Numerous
herds were quietly grazing upon the rich
pastures bordering on the water course, and in
every direction was heard the lowing of the
cattle nnd we saw the visible indications of a
settled community ; and we rejoiced to find
ourselves once more within the precincts of
well civilization. A pedestrian can trav?-l with
much greater ease and facility over an undulating
country than across a perfect level ; because
the friction upon the muscles of the body
is lessened in a great measure, by the unevennees
of a rolling couutry.
Our camp surrounded a collection of mineral
springs, which formed at no great distance by
their united waters, a considerable stream.
They are calleJ Ojo de Agua or the E3-e of
Waters. We were put to it to night to get a
Rutlicient supply of wood to cook our scanty
rations. In some instances we made line of certain
excrements gathered from the plains,
which we found an excellent substitute for
fuel, and one iu common use among the natives.
Our camp presented a grotesque appearance
this evening, us all wore a similar
uniform of dust, which rendered the members
of the various companies undistinguisliablc.
Morning of the 13th.?We were ordered forward
at au earlier hour than usual, and the
oommand to full into line, came so unexpectedly,
that many of us fell into rnnks armed with
a musket in one hand and a cup of hot coffee
in the other. Last night Gen. Quitman re
ceivcd a despatch from Gen. Worth, notifying
inn milk a targe lorceoi hie enemy were hang
ing upon our flanka, and doubtless were premeditating
a demonstration of some kind ; consequently
the column was in.irched in battle
order and the advance and rear guard* were
strengthened from yesterday.
It once more becomes my painful task to record
the fate of two more of my unfortuuate
comrades ; the two lligdells who were brothers
in Capt. Walker's Co. K. Jacob Kigdell
was reported by the Surgeon, to be in a dying
condition, and was left to the care and burial
of the natives. His brother who was a noncommissioned
officer remained with him, and
at the imminent peril of his own life. He fel'
into the hands of the enemy, and after six J
months of captivity, lie made his escape and |
succeeded in reaching his home in safely. The
country passed over to day, still wore pretty
much the same barren aspect. Wo have not
crossed a stream of water in the pant fit) miles
of our travel. The plains are void of tponlancous
vegetation, from the total absence of
moisture. Wherever there is water we invariably
find a settlomjnt, which is pointed out at
a great distance either by the spires of a church
or some lofty trees. In the afternoon we reached
El Pinol. an artificial Lake of great size and
depth. And here we once more encamped,
having heard nothing farther from Gen. Worth
j or the enemy. Gen. Worth's division rested
here last uiglit, and he is not far from us at
this time. We were again bard pressed to get
fuel to cook our scanty rations. The army
Quarter masters liave brought along a small
supply from Tepryayaalco, but when divided is
hardly a small stick to a man. We made use
of the withered leaves of the Maguey, which
answered the purpose quite well. This night
we were visited with a stampede nnd the loss
ot many fine animals wag the consequence.
Gen. Quitmau received another express from
from Gen. Worth being of the same purport of
the former.
Morning of the 14th.?The air came fresh and
pnre from the mountains, and redolent of the
perfume of the ripening harvest fields of corn
and wheat with which tit a volleys are decked.
The ineo and animals all appeared in hetter
spirits, a* did the Colonel who now took his
I station at the head of the line, remounted on
another gelding. The cainp was scarcely cleared,
before it was visited by a number of half
starved wretches, some of whom were mother?
with infants, tied to their backs. The beef
bones and bits of crackers scattered about
promised them a rich harvest. One fellow
stood wrapped in a greasy blanket, and holding
up a bottle of 3fe?cal or whiskey, which he
ofTered to gull by the drink, but finally offered
the whole for fifty cents, and he met with a
ready purchaser. Only once I tasted some of
this liquor : it is distilled from the juice of the
Agave or Mexican Maguey, and is about as
strong as pure alchohol and will kill a man
equally as quick. Two miles from camp we
met the Diligencia or Mexican stage concli en
route for Jalapa. It was constructed similarly to
our own stage coaches, and wan'drawn by nine
mules and stood a pretty good chaoce of being
robbed as many times ere it reachcd its destination.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
? m
In relation to the recent death of William
T. Uashkell, the Louisville Journal
says: "A most brsillianl genius and a truly
elegant gentleman, a tbrillng orator and
a statesman of unusual culture?the whole
countrv was deeply impressed with the sad
announcement that his reason had been dethroned
some two years ago. Hopes were
sub&equntly entertained of his recovery and
restoration to useful new. But with melancholy
glimpse* of lucidity, he has worn out
bis existence as a meie blank, and his dearest
friend cannot regret that the balmy hand
of death has at length relieved him from
suffering. The grave never closed over a
more gallant spirit; affection can never weep
over a more lovable, high-toned and chivalric
man. Poor Hasbkell 1 Waknew him
well, and, knowing bim so well, our heart
Ul I ? - ~
ulceus hs we pen me luetiecluul tribute to
bis ?oemory.w
t hare drank at many a fountain, but
thirst came again , I bare fed at many a
bounteous table,' bat hunger returned ; I
bave seen many bright and lovely things,
but while I gazed, their lustre faded.?
Tbere is nothing here tbat can give me
rest; but when.I Ubqlfl. U>t* O God, I
shall be sitiafied !?Bteeher.
. Sharp-pointed jests out keener than a
knife.
-- - * -?
[for tije independent press.]
ENERGY.
"See the issue of your sloth :
Of sloth comes pleasure, of pleasure comes
riot.
Of riotcornes disease, of disease comes spending.
Of spending comes want, of want comes theft.
And of theft come? hunting."
Young man ! There lies hidden in many
h noble heart, as dorman^and inflexible
as the serpent in mid winter, this one thing,
enfir(*V. Rnprnrc iq nnl*? <> ??
OJ- &/ ? ""-J "?D >"au
success, ? it wields the muster pen
?it shows its bright luminaries in the college
Hall?it chases the Comet in the heavens,
amidst the dazzling stars, and watches
the terrific thunder-bolt as it drives
asunder the sturdy oak?it converses with
nations and sways tho sceptre over empires
?it portrays man more beautiful than Nature
and paint# a heaven on earth, and last
not least, overcomes any obstacle that may
chance to obstruct your way. *
Why, then, young man, linger behind,
and let the monsters, idleness, luxury and
dissipation??nd then ruin supersede energy.
Every man of ordinary talents, has a
mind susceptible of achievements ; nature
vuutjY?s uiiu wim mcse iscuiues nnn <iki not
intend for them to lay dormant. His innate
nature intended that he bhould cultivate
them and expand them as long as life
would permit him. There is no man living
but that his nature has in time, suggested
to him a particular occupation or science,
for which his talent is peculiarly adapted, and
| which prompted him to take hold of it.
Hut how many in these days of idleness lay
hold of it, with indefatigable energy and
accomplish a desired end.
'Tis true we can boast of living in an age
of progress, but to whom does it belong?
to a mighty few ! Luxuries steal away
our energy in its bud, and only a short j
while can man enjoy them?for he only
can enjoy a luxury who is not used to it.
Luxury introduces idleness, idleness dissipation
and dissipation ruin. Then you arc
at the wall ; nothing grand and sublime
i looms up before vour vision in the distant
| arena of hope to cheer your torpid nature.
I No ! the elasticity of soul, mind and body
have fled like smoke from a burning crater,
j Longevity belongs to a man who em|
ploys his innate functions, and holds himself
aloof from the now so-common viola- j
tions of his nature. And to such a man is
blessed with long life that he may arrive to
some perfection in his pursuits. Wealth
do<*s not pave the way to fame?it only
affords opportunities?but how often does it
prove a blessing ? The most useful men,
both practical and scientific, that the world
lias ever produced, were men of poor pur- j
entage. Thoy were first reared Io labor \
and learned to love it !?it built up for
tliem a constitution, that would bear up !
under a powerful mind. Tliey would perceive
the world as it moved along ?bright
visions would present themselves, and look
beyond their reach?their energy would
burst out in full vigor and their love of labor
would soou waft them on the wings of
energy to fame. The poor plough-boy,
whose copperas pants afforded his Sunday
habiliments, to go to cburch in?and who
has been scoffed at by his little juvenile
companions?i9 soon forgotten when he
stands at the helm of science or moves a
whole nation at his voice.
Men of genius are rare and few ; they
come singly, and are like a large stalk of
corn in a rich soil?only one to a family?
the rest are all suckers?the large stalk,
only, arrives to perfection. Then do not
conceivc that you are a genius, if you do,
you may, in the end, blot out your existence
with a large bag of smut.
Wieri.
^
Experiments.?Dr. Smith, an eminent
London physician, has lately been making
some experiments with a view to test the
correctness of the common opinion that the
great rate at wkibhan "express-train" runs
produces an injurious effect upan the mind.
The plan be adopted was to determine the
effect of railway travelling upon the respiration
and pulsation, on the principle that
f It A ItrilO l? aT lltA * " ? ? *
w. mo avsiciij win u? in proportion
to tlie activity of those functions. Dr.
Smith, therefore, travelle.l repeatedly in
each of the three classuts of English railway
carriages, and upon the engine, and at va
rious races of speed, and the influence on the
quantity of air breathed na< ascertained -by
the use of a spirometer.
The greater part ot the expsrimenU were
made upon the broad gauge. The result of
seventy-three series of experiments went to
how that thegreatest wear on the system
occurred whilst sitting upon the engine.
The precise average increase of air inspired
was about two hundred and fifty cubic
inches ner minute on rh? ?n'orin? inn linn.
I # 9 ? *"**"
dred cubic inches in the second class, and
one hundred and 6fty cubic inches in tbe
flr*t class.
, Tobacco.?A southern exchange paper
says: *It is stated tiiat the Rev. George
Trask, of Fitchburg, lectured so powerfully
in Web?ter, a few days ago, againtt the use
of tobacco, that several of hia aftdiance went
home and bqrned their ciffars?-holdini?
, f< . ?r Hp?
one end of them to their raoutbt.'
A abort man became ait Ached to a tall
woman, ami somebody said that bo had
falUn in love witb her. "Do yon o*U it
falling ialaval" *?id the suitor: "it'* more
like climbiogwf'tO'itF A *> . * >
T HE BALLET O I RL. ,
"Thank goodness tins is tbo last week of!
the pantomime!"
"You don't Ray bo ? Well that is a comfort,
at any rate. We shall get rid of those
odious stranger girls who are always hanging
about the wings and thrusting their
noses where they are not wanted."
"That is something to rejoicc at, indeed.
I don't object to our own ballet ladies; but
to have these "extras" intruding into the
crrckHTk rr\r\rr>
^.vvu ivuiiif pjrjMig nuuub ttllU liniCIIIll^ IU
every word that is said, I declare it is quite
insufferable! positively quite!"
The scene where this colloquy was going
on wr8 the green room of one of the leading
metropolitan theatres. The interlocutois
were principalis, as the term goes, and, by
virtue of drawing from the treasury?the
one, fifteen pounds per week fur enacting
walking ladies ; and the other six, for delivering
messages?they conceivcd themselves
entitled to be as insolent as they
pleased to the unhappy girls, many of whom
possessed far superior talent but were
obliged to be content to gain weekly as
many shillings as those clever ladies took
pounds.
It is true both bad somewhat suddenly
risen from the state they so much despised.
per favor of a friend, to the proud position
! they nt present occupied, and though dramatic
critics might demur to their claims,
they certainly obtained the "reward o.
merit." Time bad somewhat defaeed their
charms and the remembrance of their early
I struggles, yet it had left tliem the knowledge
of the vulnerable points of which their
young associates might be most easily
wounded ; and never had the axiom that
"knowledge is power" been more aptly illustrated,
than in the dealing out of their
envenomeJ darts.
One of those pariahs of the dramatic
tribe?a ballet girl?was at the same moment
leaning her head upon her clasped
hands, which rested on tlie mantlepiece.
She had sought the apartment to be alone
with her thoughts, and as sho forgot the
scene around her, and saw, in her mental
vision, the sad and desolate home, Where
| she knew that the announcement of the
withdrawal of the piece would bring tears
and consternation, she knew that upon her
rested a vast amount of responsibility, for
I she liad at home parents sick and almost
j destitute. She was a fragile girl, and she
1 hated the profession to which poverty, but
| not lier will, consented. There was a look
of deep anxiety in her eyes?and her face,
but for tlio rouge she wore would have been
pale as marble; even though that there
was an expression of deep anxiety that suited
ill with her girlish years. She started
as the voices of the ladies aroused her from
her reverie ; and she became aware of the
nature of the conversation that was going
on near her, a bright flush suffused her
neck; and mouted even to her brow.
"Do you hear yourself called to go on
the stage, Miss Odell?" rudely inquired the
prompter, shuffling past, his spectacles in
one. li?nil- arifl Ilia linnL- in Ilin
"I an. here, sir."'
Here ! yea, I see you are here, and I shall
fine you for talking at the wings. Here,
indeed! How dare you answer me? I've
taken caro you shan't be here much longer!
Wc shall get rid of the whoie pack of you.
Friday night will be your last night; and
you'll find your treasury prettv small on
Saturday. I have you all down for fine?
your whole weeks salary?every one a set
of ." What elegant appellation he
was about to apply was suspended by the
approach of an exquisite of rank, who fancied
himself desperately in love with the
nbifP.t of tlllH linnrnvnlroil
J r.V.V?WU ..VMtVa.
The peer eyed him a moment, contemptuously
through his glass. "What's that
you are saying about a fine, sir?"
The prompter muttered,and bowed.
"Bah! Bah! What's the dAmnge?" Then
without waiting for a reply, daintly drawings
sovereign from his vest, "Will that
pay it! If it will take yourself off, and
don't annoy a lady with your impertinence."
"Let me beg your lordship will put up
your purse. I am not in the habit of receiving
favors from strangers."
"Strangers ??naw! naw ? naw, don't bo
cwuel, my deawest c*$ature f?'Pon my
life, it's enough to bweak a fellow's heart,
when you know that I am waiting to throw
my whole fbwtune at youw feet. I am
weally suwpwised that you pwefer to wemain
in this detestable position, when
ewewy happiness that wealth and love can
command wait youw accept a nee."
"My lord," said the girl proudly, "there
can be no happiness for me, except associaed
with virtue!"
"Now, my deaw cweataw," began the
peer; but by thi* time Miss Odell was preparing
to take her place in the ballet. The
young roan still .kept hovering near her.
"One word, Mis* Odefr."
"Have the goodness to make way, rpy
lord," Mid she. <<' . . r,
"Tben bonaw roe by paying the fine out
of this, tny deawest cweaiaaw t You don't
too* bow h?ppy jrou will ank? o?4If
ir#
rsi > ... . .niti'ifi.o'miiiiHiMi n?ii I
will pewmil to contwibute in tbe smallest
way to youw eomfowt. Do?pray do!"
and as ho spoke lie pressed into her hand a
heavy purse. Why was it that for a moment
she tightly clasped it, and a sparkle
into hor eyes? The next, ihe light went
out?hor lips turned white ; and, as a cold
shudder passed through her frame, she
pn!rlIv nnf it Ko/.lr ???a .1 1 1
vw.-i.j j?*-w ?v wuviv iiiiv* tuc uuuur ? uniiu,
"Let mc pass, my lord, or?or I shr.ll
think that you, too, combine with others to
insult me?"
Tlie young nobleman stepped promptly
back. The path opened, and in a moment
the ballet sprang upon the stage, and the
young girl, with her companions, enwreathed
in smiles, were dancing gayly before an
applauding audience.
******* *
On?on, through the wind and rain?on,
through tlie sleet and mud tramped the
fair and delicate girl. Alone?alone in
the midnight walk through the dreary suburb,
past the dangerous haunts of drunkenness
and vice, shivering with cold, with
terror, and with weakness, as every sound
scared her, as every footstep approached
her?now trembling at the loneliness of
tlio long, dismal street, that seemed 60 interminable?now
springing like a startled
fawn from some intoxicated wretch reeling
home?and more, ten thonsHnd times more
aflfr by the approach of those bonnetones
who roam shamelessly through
jets, rendering night hideous by their
profane and bacchanalian orgies. On, on
?now stealing softly, breathlessly?now,
with a quick and hasty step, that gradually
increases to a flight, the New Road is gain
ed. Her home is still far distant. Now, in
a solemn square, she returns the gruff "good
night"of the policeman?now agilely eludes
the rude grasp of a man, who unperceivedhad
been for soma time ilndmna on bpr
,, -j,
footsteps. At last in the dim distance, she
describes a shadowy figure tottering towards
her. It is her mother, worn with watching,
coming to meet her; and, with a sigh
of relief, the girl arouses all her remaining
strength, and springs alertly forward; but^
as she gains her mother's side, fcll her newfound
courage melts away, and she sinks,
sobbing into the maternal arms.
"MychilJ? my child?" exclaimed the
affrighted parent; "what new trouble is
there in store for us?"
"This is the last week of the pantomime/'
said Clara, "ano I fear it will be almost im
possible for me, at present, to obtain another
situation."
********
Morning broke, and found Clara kneeling
by a dead father's side! The vow she
registered there was heaid in Ileaven, and
chronicled by angels iu the Book of Life.
"Nothing can teinpt roe now," she exclaimed
; for the sacrifice that might have
been an act of piety, would henceforth be a
sin."
"Think ever thus, my child," said the
Wppnincr mnlllpr aa alia fnnfllo
1 q w..v iviiuij tuiumv/cu
her, "and I shall bare no fear for the
future."
"Uave none mother ? We can work,
can we not ?"
"Hand in band, my child, to the death."
"And win, mother?or die, and be like
him, at peace."
********
There was a great attraction at Drury
Lane; for a new tragedy had been announc
ed?author's name unknown; but in the
interest that had been evinced in high
quarters, it was conjectured that it came
from a noble source. There was to be a
first appearance, also, in the lady who was
to both her name and the piece, that neithcritics
nor actors could solve. She came
plainly dressed in deep mourning, closely
veiled. She was ever accompanied by a
widow lady, supposed to be her mother ;
but as neither seemed to have any acquaint
... ?
auto 111 iiik esiaunsn meni, ana never arrived
until the last moment at tbe rehearsal*, departing
the instant the business of tbe stage
was over, it was not possible to glean any
intelligence concerning them. All that
was known of them was that they arrived
in a plain brougham, that drove off the moment
they alighted, and returned<ttxactly at
tbe time the rehearsul concluded. The
servant who attended them appeared to be
jfiftaciturn as themselves, for by no icajolery
could he be induced to answer any questions,
probably because there was nothing
to tell beyond tbe simplo fact of their resi
dence in Harley street, and that his young
mistress' name appeared in the bills as Miss
Lovelaeo. The managers, of course, could
have solved the whole problem if there was
one, but tha*e gentlemen commonly understand
the art of keeping their own private
counsel.
At last the eventful eveoing arrived.
Tfie house was crammed in every part, for
rumor bad spoken wall of the pottio beauty
of the piece; and it was known that many
fanhionahlflji h*H umiwl nri??u Katm
Tlie re was a great excitement at the opening
of tba first noeno, which soon subsided
ipto silence. In the ?eoon<^ ' the lf|roipe
was to make her uppearsnoa. Her character
was simple^
>
ms
%
.???i, ,1 , ?1 1 . ...< ?.<
well the style of her face and flgute She
appeared in the pure classic drapery, bearing
n basket of freshly gathered flowers;
these, it was easily seen, were choice and
costly, and as she moved through her part,
her action was graceful and dignified, and
her voice soft and pleasing. By the end
of I he third act she had secured the attention
of the audience', as she went on, her i
powers became gradually developed, and at I
the end of the fifth ant. nnt. nnlv wn? tl?o I
success of tho tragedy complete, but the
new actress, being loudly called for, a shower
of bouquets fell at her feet, which she
| did not leave fur a servant to collect, but
herself bore off, amid smiles and courtesies,
while the tragedy was announced for repetition,
until further notice, and a storm of
applause.
As she left the stage, she heard a voice
close beside her exclaim, "Why, good gwacious?
Is it possible? Do my eyes deceive
me? ow do I weally see again my
adowable heart enslaved?the chawming
Miss ?
''Lovelace is my name, Lord Rivers. And
I trust you will have the goodness to rei
member it?"
"A webiike, by all that is unccoqwewabel!
I'm in despaiw!"
At that moment a distinguished looking
and very handsome man who had sat in
the stage-box, an attentive spectator, arrived
with a lady in deep mourning, lenning upon
his arm, and, after a few whispered words,
carefully arranging the folds of an ample
cloak around Miss Lovelace, lie held her
respectfully from the crowds who everywhere
greeted her.
The ballet-room, the next evening, was in a
state of great excitement.
'"Who, exclaimed a dozen voices, "is this
Miss Lovelace?"
I"
VJI utoo i
"I am sure her face is familiar to me!"
said one.
"And to me?and to me! but it's no use
guessing?tell us!"
"Do you remember tliat proud, silent
girl, who used to look so melancholy when
bhe was with us, hut whom all the young
men were wild about 1"
"Mis Odell, to be sure."
"Yes. And she has a brother?he was
in the army?went out to India, and was
thought to be dead. He's come home rich,
and she's,going to be married."
"But what brings her on the stage?"
"Oh ! that's another part of the story.?It
seems that her father fell into poverty through
some bank breaking, or something ; and
(linn Itio fuinilt? Koliownri ua*"** ill
?and then ho changed his name?and then
lie died?no, he wrote a play, and couldn't
get it acted, and then he died !"
Well?and so the tragedy i9 her father's
I suppose?1'
"Yes, it is?you've hit it! And bo it
appears that this Miss Lovelace is her real
name,it seems; the other was an assumed
one?took it into her head that it wa6 a
respect to her dead father to produce the
play that he, poor mun, had so much set
his heart on?for it seems he wrote the
character for her when she was quite a little
child?and so she determinted to act
the part before ever she got married, be
cause, t suppose, Bhe dul not imagine her
husband would let her do so afterward ; for
a grandmother, or an aunt, or an uncle, or
some one, has died, and left them some
money; and so, you see, she sports hei
brougham."
******
The morning was clear and bright, nn<l
the trees were putting forth their first buds
when a marriage party issued from the portals
of St. Pancras. Several carriages at
tended, still there was an air of quietude
about the nflfmr. Soon the bride appeared,
led hy her husband, whoso noble countenance
bore the impress of service done in sunny
India; ho looked proud of his choico ; and
she?as, in her bimple white dress, she
leaned confidently on his arm?wore on
her face the honest glow of an approving
conscience, and as Sir Arthur and Lady
Leslie stepped into their carriage, few would
nave guessed that she bad once figured on
the stage, or shivered at midnight through
(be lonely streets a poor, unprotected balletgirl.?Yes,
there waa one circumstance
which might have M observers to suspect
something of tha kind, 'for as the carriages
drove away a group of young girls appeared
at the door of the sacred edifice, and though
some tittered?as girls will, whenever a
wedding takes plaoe?more were in tear*.
And very proud were those who had succeeded
in gaining a passing notice from
Lady Leslie; and many a one, in after years,
was bv her means, rescued from a Ufa ?f
starvation, and placed in circumstances,
where by their "industry and virtue, Shey
were enabled to earn a competent income;
wh<!s she, moving in the sphere to wfciob
by birth the bad a olaim, and in wbioh her
education and talents qualified her to shine,
became ? Messing to those around her,*nd
the light of her husband'J hotrfe. and the
joy and pHtje qf bis^ heart.'
' 8pnr l fkb dud *ra a dish . ^ At
+ '
\ II lllMMIfrllll llimrl KftrlUIHMiMh, . I . III.
Voting Men in the Old World and iu the
New.
Prominent aniong the many striking contrasts
between the old World and the NeW}
may bo named the marked difference there
is in the) opportunities each presents foi*
young men to attain office and distinction.
In tho United State.*, from the commence*
ment of the revolutionary struggle to our
own times, young men have generally taken
the lead. Washington, Warren, Jeffcrsonj
Hamilton, Jay, Story and a host of other
eminent persons, were young men, when
they took prominent positions in thej)ublio
service. One of the signers of tlicT DeclarI
ation of Independence was but 24 years of
age at the time; one was 30 years old ; four
others were but 31, and three others, including
Jefferson, were but 33. Massachusetts
has had several Governors less than forty
years old, and most of the leading public
men of the State at the present time are un*
der forty-five. The Speaker of the popular
branch of the Lcgislatuare is only 28.
In England there are very few men undef
forty years of age in the public sevice in any
department. Of 658 members of the British
Parliament less than fifty are under thirty
years of age, and it has recently been
stated that so far as an opinion can be formed
on the subject there are not ten young
men in the House of Commons who givo
promise of great ability. Gladstone and
Disraeli are regared as rising men, men of
promise. The first named is forty-nine,
and the last fifty three. They have been
in public life for twenty year's and both have
rare talents for politic. Amongst all the
privy Councillors of the British Queen there
is not one man under thirty, and only seven
under forty, leaving 223 right honora
ble gentlemen upwards of forty. Of tbe
whole number (231) 131 are upwards of
sixty years of age. Nearly one-half of ther
100 Councillors under sixty are noblemen
who attained tbe rank as the natural consequence
of tbeir birtb, so that there are
only about fifty men who have obtained by
particular service the rank of Privy Councillors
before they are sixty years old.
In tbe English Church, or the British Navy,
Army, Law or Civil seivice, young men
rarely attain eminence. At the present
time the present Archbishop is a man of
soventy, the youngest Bishop is a man of.
forty-two, and of the thirty-five other
' Bishops, there arc but five under fifty. In
the army there are but three general officers
who have obtained that rank under thirty
years' service ; the youngest has been in the
service 23 years. Of the military men of
Great Britain, there are ahout four with the
title of "Knight Companion of the Bath"
under 50 years old. The majority of offi!
cers of the British Navv ?lo nnt aftnin fh?
Admiral rank until forty years' service ;
tlie most rapid promotion known is the case
1 of Admiral George Elliot, who attained that
rank nfter 30 years' service.
The youngest Judge of the United Kingdom
was appointed to the Queen's Bench,
Ireland, at the age ^ 28. Chief Justice
Cockburn was chosen at 52, and the other
Judges werefiive, ten or fifteen years older
i before they reached the Bench. It appears,
i from the above statement, that nearly alt
the persons in important public stations in
Great Britain are gentleme far advanced in
life. No wonder, therefore, that we occa1
sionally see a complaint made in the B*it~
ish journals' that old men, and persons paab
the meridian of life, are so geuearlly selected
for the public service.
Box ton Transcriat.
A ShoktOTiaybr.?We havo heard of
, an old-deacon, who, being asked by his
pastor to close a meeting with a short prayer,
replied,"I am very willing to pray, but
1 I dou't like to be stinted " The minister
mentioned below must have belonged to
the same family, we judge, for he had a
similar aversion to being straitened "<in hi*
communion with God. Tbe^story has a goodmoral.
The Rev. Mr. Derwell, a pious and curi
ous old Methodist minister, went from Ten~
, nessee to Kentucky, in 1812, to visit his relative,
the lion. William Bolton. The man.
was not a religious man, but wan a gentle
i .1 > "
mi, nuu iiiviieu nit) inimser 10 nave laraily
worship everv evening. While he was
I visiting there, Judge Cono and his wifo
from Nashville, and Mr. Bolton, being a
' little embarrassed, said to the old minister,
as he brought out the bible, that he harl
better be short, as the Judge was not nccus
) thmed to such things,
"Very well, very well," said ho, nn<l reaift
inga single verse, he knelt down and prayed.
"O Lord, we are very poor nnd needy
creatures- rnul Wf? linnw fliuf ?lir>n or?
to supply all our wauls, but Cousin William
says that Judge Cone and bis wife
from Nashville are here', and aro not used
to family worship, and however needy wo
are, there is no time to sparo iR telling thee
our wants. Amen."
The Judge was taken all aback, and bo
was cousin Willam. Tbev both pressed
the old gentleman to conduct the service*
in his own way, which he did, to their great
edification.
Flace a glass of liquor on the table, pal
a hat over it, and say, 'I will engage to.
drink every drop of that lin?nr unit vat T'll
. 1?? J ?
not touch tha hat.' You then get ander
the table, and after giving three knock*,
you make a noise with your mouth, as if
you wore swallowing the liquor. Then
getting from under the table, you say, 'Now,
gentlemen, be pleased to look* Some ooe
eager to see if you bare dwjnk the liquor,
will raise the bat, when you itttaolly take
the claM and awallnw ih? w\n?a?i?? ???"?
Gentlemen, -1 have fulfUIed^mj p*omi*e.
You are all vita?aw*ib?t 1 dil hoi teach
tl)? hat.* 1 " ]
x> ' ' ><ti
When Peter the -Orei* WW
^ the BlarqiiU de NAU
i every day m n oew ^repiyj *?ari%* i#id 1
the Caart?bi^:^?w.lftUMin}u4^jMftre
* b*d ooe,ihe%b?eynieNi
i
1111 inn |