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" r , " We will cling to the Pillars of the Temple of oS~r Liberties, and if it must fall,weilPeihadsteRun. SIMKINS, DURISOE & CO., Proprietors. ED E IL. C., MA C .8, VL 1ImO~ "THE LANDLADY'S DAUGHTER," From the German of Uhland, is one of those strange and startling conceits which no other lan guage ittempts : There came three students over the Rhine Dame Werter's house they entered in ; " Dame Werter, hast thou good beer and wine And where's that lovely daughter of thine ?" " My beer and my wine are fresh and clear My daughter is lying cold on her bier." They stepped within the chamber of rest, Where shrined lay the maiden, in black robes dressed. The first be drew from her face the vail; " Ah ! wert thou alive, thou maiden so pale," He said, as he gazed with saddened brow, " How dearly would I love thee now!" The second, he covered the face anew, And, weeping, he turned aside from the view *Alh me! that thou liest on the cold bier, The one I have loved for so many a year !" The third once more uplifted the vail, He kissed the lips so deadly pale; " The loved I ercr. still love I thee, And thee will I love through eternity." And that kiss-that kiss- with Promethean flame Thrilled with new life the quivering frame ; And the maid uprose and stood by his side, That student's own loved and loving bride ! WHAT MAKES A MAi. Not numerous years, nor lengthened life, Not pretty children and a wit; Not pins and canes and fancy rings, Nor Any such like trumpery things; Not pipe, cigar nor bottled wine, Nor liberty with kings to dine; Not coats nor boots, nor yet a hat. A dandy vest or trim cravat ; Not houses. land nor golden ore, Nor all the worlds's wealth laid in store Not Mr. Rkev. Sir nor Squire. With titles that the memory tire; No'. anestry, traced back to Wil, Who went from Normandy to kill: Not Latin, Greek nor Ilehrew lore; Nor thousand voinmes rumbled o'er; Not judae's robe, nor mayor's n::ce: Nor crowns that deck the royal tae: These all united never can Avail to make a single man. A. Lruthful soul, a loving mind, Full of aflectionof its kind; A spirit firm, erect and free, That never basely beads the knee; That will not bear a feather's welht Of slavery's chain, for small or grcat That truly speaks from God within, And never makes a league with sin; That snaps the fetters de.pots make And loves the truth for its own sake : That worships God, and him ulonie, And bows no where but at h s throne: That trembles at no tyrant's nod: A soul that fears no one but God; And thus can smile at curse or h:mi That is the soul that mak.s a man. From Balku's Dollar Monthly Ma azine. -o nt TEMPTATION AND FORGIVENESS, flY Siit5. FANNY E. ntAniorC: Ar an open windoaw of a fine old mnansion on -the banks of the Ihudson, a young girl sat lo'ok - ing out upon the glory of the sunset. Stmiers bright ministers were weaving a beautiful robe for the rejoicing earth, and the genial air was laden with freshness and perfume. Yet anmd all this brightness and surpassing beauty, young Annie Earle was very sad, and her dark eyes seemed looking beyond the scenes of outward nature, striving to pierce the thick veil which shrouded the future. Not faultless in form and feature was Annie, but she wvas very lovely, with her putre white brow, above which the brown hair lay in wavy masses, and her soul-full eyes of darkest hazel. Many would have passed by a picture of such quiet, unpretending grace, to gaze upon imore .. brilliant gems; btit those who knew her, andl appreciated the excellence and purity of her charactet. lovedl her very dearly. 'To them she was bean! f'l, aind her loving smite ad gentle wordsi had erer a more potent charm than~ muere .syiuonetrei of1 pe. can bestow. '1welve nmonthas had been tunuberedl with those alreadoy recorded w'th thse pa,. sinw.e .\n nile met and loved Henry Browning, and the datN5 had gljded by so full or blessedne..s that the Nweet j.,:s of this life senmed to her yonuz heart abmnu.t a' fitting foreta-te of the bliss to comec. But now three weeks had1 puassed since her loverm left her, ont pressing bu.siness, as he said, which coub'l not be delayed, andl she hadu received but one burief memssage from him. The morrow was to have witniessed then- bridal. Need we wonder thaut dleep sadniess stole into the young guIs soul, as she unsed up~on these things? Sihe has not a thought of doubt of her lover's truth and huonor, to darken her peace, but a weight seemed pres-inig upon her heart, which she tried in v.ain to reasonu away. The sun went downm, and the soft twilight lent a mystic beauity to the quiet scene ; andi vet Aie sat at the wvindow, r-otionmless aind still. Jiut nowv the hot tears were falling fast upon the slender hanmds which were claspeed hi.theasly before her, ad thme bright head was bowedl upon * her breast. Jtist then there camne a low top at the dloor, and an elderly lady entered, and advancing to the window, threw a letter into Annie's lap. - "Cheer up, darling !-joy comnethi in the morning," said the lady, and stooping, slhe drew her towvards her, and pressed a fond kiss upon the maiden's brow. "0O, mother dear, you always bring ine joy~ !" cried Annie, raipturously, as she gazed upon tine supcrseription of the letters, .in the dear hand writing which she knew so well. The note ran thus: " D.AnraST ANNiE,-I will be with von iii the iorning, and will then explain every thing. 'Till then, when I can call you my own, an'd evr I anm your devoted I~a. The morning dawned in brighiness, and An. ni with all her forebodings forgotten,' moved~ lightly about, with her own bands prfectin every arrangement for the reception of be lover, and the momentous event which was tc follow. A few hours, and a happy wife, she gazed into her young husband's face with a look of confiding tenderness and perfect love which told how truly she had given to his carc the keeping of her happiness for life. And a he folded her to his bosom, and called her his own, Henry Browning felt that few men were so blest as he, and that earth held not a richer treasure than his darling Annie. * The young couple were blessed with an abundance of this world's goods, and as they commenced their new life in the beautiful ion which had been theit bridal gift from Mr. Earle, the future smiled before them with a cloudless sky. One long summer-day of happiness and love seemed to have dawned upon them, and they thought not that clouds might gather ir the sunny sky, and wintry storms succeed the joyous summer. 0, blessed trust that lives im the present, confiding in love for the future ! Blessed indeed is it, when of its fuhiess strength! is born within the soul, to go forward unshrink ingly should the storms comie, waiting in patient hope till the sunlight shines again. Weeks and months passed, and still the love-light in Annie Browning's house was undimmed, and nightly, on bended knees. she thanked the Giver for her fill cip of joy, :nd prayed that she might wor tibily fulfil a wife's sweet dutie'- Aid to Ilen rv Browning, " the dearest spot of earth" was home, and his gentle wife, the presiding genius there, was to him the embodiment of something purer and holier than he had known in life before. " Annie, darling, I am almoat provoked," said the young husband, as he entered Annie's room one bright day in the early spring.' She fooked'up wonderingly into~his face, as s! inquired what had happened to distre:s him. " Nothing, only t..at our Paradise is to lie in truded upon. Read that." And he handed her a letter, and stood watching the varying expres aion of her countenance, as she read. It was a delicately folded and perfumed elis tIe, written in a fine, lady-like hand, and an nounced the intention of the writer to do her self the pleasure of visiting cousin Henry and hi.4 witie. It was signed " Irene Cadell." " And who is this l'ady ?" asked Annie, as she folded and returned the letter. " I never knew that von had relatives of that name." " Nor I, either, for that matter, Annie; lut Irene alvars insisted that there was a distant relationship between the fiunilies that entitled her to call inc cousin. Sonic venerable great micle of hers was fourth cousin :o my great aunit, I supllle. or something ot that sort. 31r. Cadell owns one of the finest estates in Virginia, and I have often been at his hounc." "But why should his daughter. uninvitel, pay us a visit ?" inquired Antie. I I a-n sure I cannot tell, unless it may be that she is to accompany her father on one of is business tours to the North, and thinks it may be more agreeable to pass the time with its than n the city. You will join me in writ ing t. weleome her,-will--you ot, -Annie ? - It ;rill itt I for long, and t hen we shall so much the more enit'jy being left to or-,elves agut. "Certainly. lienry : any friend!l of yours wil be welcoin' to mY hote." replied his wife. The letter of invitation and welcome was written an.1 devsaintted, and in due time 3Ai-s t'ade!l arrived at "Br'wnin l tg l aI," as Ande had playfully christened their home. It wt- a lvely ev:iing in 'tay, and the roung in' ii looked down in ij'uiet leauty, while mte stars were takiin;g their allotted stations ii the heavens, and the bahny air .eenekl lk with Imeittisanes of ret ail i1:ac( to soul a:nl Im- v. It was just stich an eve-lng a- we have all experieneeh. when the extreme beauty of outward u1: i a:r' I brills to the intost ' -e of a::r Ii-?. and we lee.l it a joV to live, tihat .\nii1e -tool at hert- winlow ani watched the gractenh! tvemlent of ' i-s t'atell. a- she v:aned! 1:1 he broad avenue whihi le.1 to the house. Iren ,. had met their guest at the station. an-i the ucomni loveliness of the night hia-' teitphte.l henm to walk hotme. rTe lady had remou~ved' her hat as they at~proachied the hotuse, antd the weet mioonli-At rested like a glory upon her bead. and lent adlditional lustre to eyes of the eepest nmidniight hute. Annie thought she had ever looked upona so beautiful a creature. and when a light, silvery laugh tang otut uponm the ler air, and a sweet voice exclaimed, " Where is cousin .\nnie ?-1 am itmpatient to meet her," she fore-ot lier nat ural timidity, and bouindintg own ti-e step.4, she olasped her- in her arms, nd kissed her 'ripe lip< with as much enthiusi is as even a lover of the stetrner sex could have done. - Well done !little wvife," laughingly ex :laimed her hausbamnd ; " you have entirely su persded the necessity of a formual introduction. oevr, it must h~e'done. 31iss Irene Cadell. allow mec to present to you myI dearly- beloved wife, Anniie Browning, and may the star of your frienship never- watne." Antd so, gaily- latugh mg and chaatting. they- entered thme honse. " Ienry, whyi d1(d you not tell me that i-ce svasesove be:tmtiful ?" askedl Anunie, na she nd her hu'sband awaited the appearance of Miss Cadell, in the breakfast parlor, the~ next moratn "Because, little wife," answered lie, as lie placed his arim ab uit her waist, and drew he-r to hint; " becatu-e I ne-ver- thought of it. Antd then sihe is niot so very bteautifual, after all." 0O. 1 heury!" exclaimetd the yo-mg wife, with at looak of astoinimtent ; not beautiful ! I hinak shte i-; real ly splendlid. What mnagniii eet haiir atmil eye; she lias !-and her complex io is so rich a;t eie-:r; amidl het teetht so, white. la shortt I think hier Itie most, re;;ally beautiful woan I ever- saw ." I ' Whyv, lit tie wife. how enthutsiastic you are. I believe you have actually fillent in love wvith. la-ene, at first sight. But' to mie, Annie darling, one glatnce of love from your pureC eyes is nmore plrechius, one .smuile frota youi more beaumtiful and lovely, than all het' chat-ns. 1 suppose she i a line-looking wotatan, btut hers is not the style dloveliness to wint my admiration.I old nevera love .sneh a womant as Miss Catdetl. Gie e my i' datrling Annie!I" And lie pressed a ftid kis tupon t be pure wvhiite for-eheatd of hii wii, wh~oe t.jentle lo-.eliness atppteared so muech more aitt ractive front contrast with their bri Iene. Catdell stoodl just without the oren door mid litened to this conversation. Not a word of thle w'if's en-otmiunis or- the hubn' ctriti isms hadl lbeen lost, antd in the brief mormeni whih patv-ed ere she presentd herself befort em, her 1thans wver-e laidl. Bttt not a trtace o anotv'~ance'otr tuusual emotion wsas visihble upor her features, as she gave and received the mnor in..r greetttgs, antd the brmeakfast timtsed lle a'tly, Antire each miomuent discovering somec thing new to love and admire ini her beautifui gtest. Tn truthI, Irene Catdell wvas a glorious creature in outwat-d seeming, b~ut the inner life was as: waste desert, or rathter an untended. garden were grew, not sweet, fresh flowers, but nox ios weeds ad phmts, wvhose pois-onous ar-oin might diffuse pain and deathi. Self-willed an vain, shte hadl long looked upon herself -as bein; prftt in beauty and attractiveness, and in he onh eher word was law. 'Her .mothe w. a. aughty and imperious as herself' bn they never came in collision, for Irene was Mrs. Cadell's idol, and she even felt a kind of pride in gratifying her every wish, whatever it might be. Mr. Cadell was at heart a just and true man, but long before Irene arrived at womanhood, he had learned that to'submit to the requirements of his greedy wife was his only safe course, if he would not have his honel scene of constant broils. "1 brought you your fortune, Mr. Cadell; I made you what you are," had been rung in his ears too often for him to doubt that in his own home he was looked upon as a ne cessary encumbrance, rather than loved and respected as a husband. So the years passed, and his locks whitened, while the one sorrow was eating ever at his heart. But Irene's love should be his solace, and in some measure repay him (or her mother's harshness, so he reasoned. But the lovely child expanded into the brilliant woman, and still the old nan's heart thirsted in vain for appreciation from those of his own household. - All too little of his gentle spirit had been given to his child, and in the evening of his days, he was forced to acknowledge to himself that his hopeis were but as dust. Against her father's wishes, .rene had deter mined to visit the home of Henry Browning; but he could not prevent it, and so had accoin panied her to the city, where he had business to transact, ail seen her safely on board the train which in i fetw hours would take her to oer de.tilnation. We have seen her safe arrival there, and the impression which her brilliant beauty made upon young Annie Browning. And now to resume our story. imnediatel after breakfist was over, Irene excused herself and retired to her room. Anger and pain were struggling in her heart, and dis appointed vanity and self-love urged on the con test, until unwoninly rage was the victor, and she vowed to be revenged upon him who had wounded her. Two years before, she had first met Ilenry Brownin. and with all the fierce passion of her ungoverned nature, she love him. le was pleased with the lovely Virginian, an peihaips a little flattered by the preference which the proud belle showed for him ; but his heart was untouched. Yet with the blind wilfulness of her great self-love, Irene would not believe that his attention: to her were only prompted liv the inherent politeness and gallantry of 't gen ieman ; but lie mu.t love her-he should love her. So, through her wily sehemings, her bother contracted busine-s relations with Brown in-. who in C:)i't1iiCepee becamne a fre1uent visi tor at her iote. Ilere. he only saw: her gentler moods, when love for him, and a desire to please, iatle her seem the per sonification of womanly goodness as well as beauty. Bit his heart was away with gentle Annie. and Irene was to him no nmore than any ocher lively and brilliant wom-ui of his ae quaintance. But even when the tiding of his marriage reached her, Irene would still believe that his heart was hers, and acting upon this absorbing thoubghtthe-forgot her-maldenty i1eli6acf. a111 invited herself to his house, that she might Iwell once tuore in the li-Jht of his presence. No tho'ight. was there in her he-rt of the dark shadow she might bring up.n that home, no pity ihr the wife who hived but in her fund bu.tand's siles. "lie shall be tmine! I swear it by all the ininiters of sweet revetgce " she hissed between her closed teeth. a< with h:ands tightly clacped, she parel the 1l ,or of her ap:artment. "lie shall he mine! Ile shall love me yet, in spite of t nt imilk-hoed lbabyi, w hom lie calls his wile! Ile .shall feel the lh-eie strivings of a passion as deep as miine ! I!e shall acknoiwledge the ioner of the beina tit whI:i nar he Scora:, an:sue at my feet fhr the love he has rjert. Courage. Irene C.I.iell ! ))u never yet were failed, and 'lnr Browlng 'hall be your !' ,' wo:man ! 4., lowly l allen and deba-ed ! FIr thee t:. jo( I '.raise were lost; f'r thee the deptt's of' ii nfoy are dared, antd reach el. (. wi oma ! 1, lo..i ,;. sutffeing, t rue we mn-my,'in mthe's lheIvtinaine..-f ar' thee the gaites od 'heavent are opetied, and manit asjpires to ''ain them! The Ii ry siam of passiton s;'ent its for'ce. and I renie stoodl before ,brh'1 mirr'or. iiiarragmi her maliltieen'it hair, e'ahn and lovely, as if no whiid of' rage had swept over aiit dli-tortedl heri beauiifuil feat ure<. T1all anid erect she stootd. a very quet ui in her regal bteauty, a' she comn pleted her toilet. anul dtrveyed herself' with a proud smile of sath-faction. I dar'e the 'ontsequ~enctes,' she said, as she turnted away. " lie cannot resist mie, and I wiill yet dinik a lonig, sweet drautghet of love, such 'is Annui-ei lrownuing never' even dreamed Decscending to the par'lor', she entei'ed noise lesly, and stealin~g til behind Annie, putt heri arm riiound hei' and kissed her, laughing the wihile at Alnnie' .start of surp'hrise ; then draw ing' her to the mir-ror, she exclaimed:I "See heie, couisin, I have a fauncy that you and I look very' muchel alike. D~on't you think o?" 'lThen tumring to i[enry, still keeping Annie close at her side, she siid, exultingly, as she met hits look oh' adiriation: " low is it, C ousini IIeni'y, wrill you flatter my vanity hyl agrieeine- with tie ? IThe airttid girl knew well that .\ninie's gniet, racefil lovel-niess could hear nto 'omfpaioni vith her own splentdid beautty, anti she wi.-hed to draw Mr'. Birowniing's at tention to the fatct im scth a tmanner that he couldh not be indliffei'ent to it ; bitt lie only drew his wife to his side, andh ga::ed lov'ingly into htem' bhmshinig face, as he replied: SAnnie is my delicatte lily, my sweet forget-. ment not, moy wiite r'ose, winc'h I love and cr ish the dearest of' all towers. You, i'enie, aret the lofty and splendid dahlia, the r'e:al tlowecr which overlooks the loiwlieri' nes, andl challen e.s the admirationi of' ever'y pahsser-by3."' " 'Thanks, my gaillanit cavalici' ! You 'have iiade mine not atn einviable~ fat e, for none love the toweringz dahlia, thoug:h all adinir'e its bril iant hues. Far rather' wouild I be like the prair'ie rose, which cling~s to the object which supportLs its idelicate branche~s antd spr'eads aroadl its fragrant blos-somn', till the whole air' is reldlent of pei'h'mne, atnd we lore the beauty which blesses u." S[ir eyes wei'e fil!ed with a soft, humid light, like uii'edl tear's, as she spoke, and to lleury Brown'inmg, a new beauty ini Irene was that nmo ment r'evealed. " I will observe her," lie thouight; "sbe will be ani interesting study." Sighinig audibly'. [ren'ie turned away and seat edi herself at the piane'. Lightly running her white liigers over the keys, she touched a few uiinor ch~ords, the he r ri ich voice blended with the toties, aind she sung a wild amid plaintive mielody. But even as thbe. despairing wvailing of a f'or.dken, broken heart died otn the air, her matchless voice rang out a thrilling, joyous striin, and the pealing notes of gladness and - "ntph' swelled upward till 'the room seemed with clarion voices. e" froie, dear'," she said, abruptly, as she turn dfrmthte insti'mnenit, "I feel in a strange, wild mood to-tday. A Ileet canter across the pai'k-would do me good. Have you a fancy for riding ?" " Yedarremxe rif you WOldlke it, we will go immediately t will be delightful this bright morning." "Indeed, ladies, thiseis a very 'fine arrange ment," said Henry, l ahing, "to leave me out entirely. Am I not t' be permitted to accom pany you ?" " O, yes, Henry," saW Annie, eagerly. " You, know I am but a n'ovictas yet in horsemanship, and I must not ride wifhout my teacher." "No, little wife, I cannot quite trust you yet," he returned, gazing fondly into the sweet lace of his young wife.} " But away with you, ladies, and prepare for he ride, while I order the horses." ' The ladies were soog ready, and the horses awaited them at the door. "Irene," said Browriing, as he joined them, "which will you rid?--my wild, dashing Omar, or Whitefoot thegentle? Both are full of spirit, but Omar han spice of the tiger in him, which makes hin netimes difficult fur a lady to manage." ' O, let inc have Omi, if you please," crie s Irene. " Perhaps I can subdue the'tiger. At all events, I should like try." " My noble Selim for , e," said Annie,-as her husband assisted her in o the saddle. " I can trust. him, and I have nie of Irene's ambition to train a tiger." i" " Or to ..onquer a world," said Irene, laugh ing as she sprang lightly~to her seat. One touch of her whip and Omar's fore feet were reared high in the air. " Loosen the reins, fot heaven's sake ! or he will fall on you," cried henry, excitedly. "Ila! ha!" laughed Irene. "I have seen horses before, sir knight,' and I prefer that this one shall play the biped for a moment longer, at least." Curbing him with a strong and practised hand, she kept the proud animal rearing aloft, while she retained her graceful seat, with per feet coolness and self-possession. Annie, in an agony of rear, begged her to de sist before he killed her,but Henry locked on in undisguised admiration. - He saw that the bold girl held the horse p perfect subjection, anid he was struck with the magnificent beauty of the picture which tliey presented. Omnar's glossy black coat was flecked with loam from hi: galled mouth, and his large eyes leamed with a savage brightness; while Irene sat motionless as a statuetupon his back, an ex altant smile upon her lips, with a steady hand keeping the fretted animal in his unnatural po sition. Her hair, black as' the darkest night, lay in soft, wavy masses [above her foreheads beneath which her beautful eyes shot forth beams of starry light. The rich blood mantled her cheek with a warm glowing hue, and be tween the full red lip.;, slightly parted, gleam ed the white, even teeth.. Henry Browning sat 'notionless .pon his horse, lascinated by her brilliant beauty, which hal never before inpressed him as now. Irene's uick percept ion. noted th4 ellect of her artful enanagemient, and sLe was satisfied. "Twice this morning I have moved him," thought she. 'Bravo! Irene Cadell -l. succeed." '. Giving her-hbrte'! , dtofthiffin1 ightly with the whip, the chafed and excited mnim:al bounded away like the wild steed of he desert. "Catch inc if you can," Irene shouted, while t silvery Laugh rang out upon the gomning air. Come, Annie, that wild girl will get her uick broken," said Henry. " We must over ake her." But Annie was not a practisel horsewoman, md Selimms rapid motion was exceedingly irk oe to her. She turned pale, and cheeked her torse. --I lei v. I cannot ride so fist." she said but it' it is necessary, you can leave ne and inid Irene." " I do not like to leave vou, Ainnie." replied eir imsband, but his immpatiemce wa illy comn ealed, and Annie urged him not to mind her, i she coul do very well until he came back. Well, good-bya, then." And waving his han:l .o her, lie dashed away and was soon out of ight. Annie Browning was too pure-minded her e, to suspect that all was not quite as it hould be, but a pan~g thdi shoot throttgh her eart when .she saw hier husbaind fir th;e first ime willing~ly leave her to joini anotiher. Biut ill other feelIng~s were. forgotten in her love for i andl her rejicin pidie, when, in afew nomeits, she saw lihe runm~aways returning, ili di withm the exercise of t heir riapid ride. IHim -. seeimed so happy and buioyant in spirits, and nnie thoughtL aieha-l imever .eein hiim look so jandsomne. Leisurely the party proceeded on their ride bont the grounds, laughing and chatting in the ravest spirits, until at lenigth Irene challenged Anie to a trial of speed, saying that it froze Ler blood to ride at that enail's pace. "Nay., irene, I am but in the rudiments of orsemanship as yet ; I canniot ,*ompete sue :sflly with so accoimiplished ain-equestrian as y ourselft," replied Anie. " Well, then, I will not be strenuous ; but ae 'you no gallant knight who will takec up the glove in your behalf ?" " i'our umst obied ienit, lady," said Henry. bowing low. " If fatir Annie wi1ll allow me, I will enter the lists in her behalf." "syou please, Henry," said his wife, aimi the next moment she wvas alone. - The fleet horses seemed ahgost to fly, as they spurned the earth bene~ath their feet, and the white lmnies of Irene's hat floated out like bniners onl the air. Yet a moment Annie gaz ed, and thien only the soft green sward, the over-arching trees and thme silent sky, niet her view. A strange sensation of sadness camne over her spirit, aLs she rode slowvly along amid the stiliiess, but she drove it resolutely awvay, ad followed on ini the path the riders had ta kei, thdiking she should soon meet them re turning for her. But whlen lhe camne to the gate which opened into the -public road, and saw. fresh tracks of horses' feet, ando thme gate sw~iniig open, she turned her boree's head, tn retraced her steps towards home. Two hours passed before Irenme and Henry returied. Irene, having the fleeter horse, had led him a long distance into the country before she sulhieredl him to overtake her, and then, fas cinated by her witty and brilliant conversation, ie forgot the wife who was waiting his cmn at home, and kept on until Irene, herself, pro posed returning. "For," said she, with a scarce ly perceptible sneer, and a curl of the resy lip, " you pattern husband as you are, nmust not be caught displeasing your wife, as you will be sure to do if you are not soon at home." There was a triumphant gleam in Irene's eyes, that made Henry color as he met her glance, when Annie met them at the door, and anx iously inquired the cause of their detention. " Ha! ha! don't let him slip away from you again, Cousin Annie," she laughed; "he may get lost if he ventures so far without you." And lightly kissing her hand to them, she pass ed on to hier room. Secure from observation, she threw herself into a: chiair,and gave free vent to her feelings. " So, so--the leaven works," she said. "My task will be an easier one thans I supposed. Twice to-day I have taken him from her side, and soon he shall come at my lightest bidding. le thinks he loves her, but I will teach him what it Is to love. I will cause tL. fierce lava stream of pas.ion to flow -over his sonlannor it scorches mine. Tie eagle mates not with the dove, and only Irene Cadell is fitted to be the mate of Henry Browning. Away remorse! -I will not feel it. He shall be mine." Day after day passed, and stil silently and surely, the temptress was weaving her toils about the heart of the man whom she had sworn to bring to her feet. At first, Annie accompa nied them in their daily rides, as Henry desir ed it, but they always left her to return alone, and soon any slight pretext was a sufficient ex cuse to them for her remaining at home. Irene was very affectionate in her deportment to wads her, but now the young wife shrank with a secret dread from her caresses, and felt as if one hour of uninterrupted communication with her husband-such as she used to enjoy would base the weary pain at her heart more than all things else. But even that was denied her; for when Irene was not present, Henry seemed moody and sad, so utterly unlike his former self, that the little time Annie passed alone with him only increased her suffering. She bogged of him to tell her what troubled him; if she had in any way offended -him ;-but he turned from her with impatient words that deeply wounded her gentle spirit, and she dared not again ap proach him. The summer was wearing away, and stil Irene Cadell remained at Browning Hall. But the fullillment of her schemes and hopes was rapidly approaching; she knew that Henry Browning loved her, though in words he had never told her so. But even this last barrier of silence must be broken, and she resolved to basten the crisis. Day by day young Annie Browning was faling before her eyes ; day by day her step grew slower, and her sweet eyes heavier with tears; but the proud woman's purpose faltered not. It was an evening lovely as those we some tims dream of when good angels watch about as-the anniversary of the night when Henry Browning had first said to sweet Annie Earle, I love you," and gathered her bright head for the fir:.t time to his bosom. Annie had retired, mffering from a violent headache, the conse lence of many a sleepless night and anxious, mffering day. Alone in the spacious parlor, by the open vindow, sat the master of that beautiful home, ooking out uipon the sparkling, glancing waters )f the 1ludson. as they hurried on beneath the noonlit sky. lie was trying to think; .but amid ill his reveries, only one impression wasdistinct . radiant form seemed thronod within his in nost heart, and flashing, glorious eves from rub and tree, and singing wave, looked deep uto his own. " Henry!" He turned atfie a name, and Irene tool before him' Neve d she looked so ra liantly beautiful as now, when her deep eyes net his own, with passion-kindled glances, and he splendid head ed crowned with a dia lem of light, as le moon kissed the shin ng braids of r. 'I Irene'!?: said, eagerly,. extending jis an' "I have not seen you before to-day. Vliy have you kept yourself so secluded ?" "I stayed in my room, that I might complete ny preparations for departure. To morrow, vith the dawn, I leave Browning Hall." "a Irene, why such haste ? Surely, you are ALnt jetmtig.' " Why such haste, Henry ?" And her voice ,vas low and thrilling, as she spoke. "Surely t is a useless question. Better for my own eace would it have been had I never set foot vithin these walls; better for me had 1 never eenm your face!" She covered her face with her hands, and caged against the window for support, her whole frame aquivering vith suppressed emotion. t was the last movenwnut in the de.,perate game, umd if- she failed !-the thought sent an icy hier through her frame. " Irene! Irene !" .le laid his hand upon her houlder as lie spoke, and his face grew white a the moonlight. Honor and duty were strug ing with the unh.oly passion whichm he had ad nitted into hais- bosom, amnd the lie:ce conlict -ged like a consuming fire. SI go from you," 'siue .aid, at leng th, in bro tni tonmes. ' ecause 1 can no lonmger stay ; youar hrellinag innut hemnceorth be a forb~idden pilace o me. hlenry Irowninag, I came to say " Lare vell,"-we par". forever !', " I rene- ! I rear it muttst not b~e ; we nerer >art. again ! Anal thuis I seal time pledge !" Tgrou-ing his armas about her yieldling form. ae drew her to haium, and covered cheeks, lips uil brow with burntiing kisses. "it is done, 1Irene ; the long struggle is over; Flove you dleeply---pssionmately ; I camnnot live vithout you." loumr- pasd and still shme lay in his arms, 'ith but thue silenit might about them, and the vatchimng stars abtove. Se haad triunmphmed ! All else was forgotten ni tis omnelbrief, guilty ream of bliss, till the vaning nours warned thaem that action was ne ~essry, and then Irene's strong will prevailead, ind lie p~romied, fori lier sake, to leave hmomne ad country, and seek in other lands for that tnelotded hap piness which they could not hope 1 enjoy ini this. A week later- anal Henry Browning's arrange ments were nerfected, amnd whemn night's veil vas shroumding nture, he and his gumity p)artne-r left Browning IHall. And did no thought of the tender flowver lie had blighted bring remorse to his spirit ? It may be ; but he wis like one in a wild delirium, conscius only of his engrossing passion for [rene, who-e imperious nature overcame every ojection, and left hinm but one course to purdue, if he would hope to p)ossess her. Wh1en Annie arose the following morning, she found a note addressed to her bpon the dressing-table. Such were its conttents: "When you read this, Annie, I shall be far away. I amn going with Irene wvhere we shall be at liberty to enjoy our mutual love undxstumrb ed. I am sorry to cause you pain, butt you do not, you cannot love me as deeply as Irene does, and I cannot live without her. Y ou hmave been a good wife to me, Annie, and perhmapssometimae yu will pray for hinm who -was your husband. I leave a large part of my property subject to your disposal, and you will never want. . Thbere will be no obstacle in the way of your obtain in a divorce fromn HEla BaowNNG." Not a sigh nor a groani escaped the young creature's lips as she comprehended this evidence of her cruel desertiomn, but white and statue-like she sat, as if frozen, or turned to marble. At length, when hours had passed, she rose and wet mechianically about her duties; but she often pressed her hand to her head, and there was a strange expression in her, eyes, which in dicated that reason was tottering upon hem throne. So the long day passed. At evening a nmessenager came in haste to eon vey to Mrs. Browninig tidings that her husband had been thrown from his carriage and danger ously injured. Then came the hot, gushmna tears, and her reason was saved. But no pre cious time was wasted ini vaim lamentations Sending up from, her crushed heart a prayer that God would sustain her imn her hour of bitter ag ony. she went quietly about the house, makimg thfew needfuil preparmations for departure, anm in an hour's time -he was ready to accompana the messenger who had been sent for her. X.. ihe mornineg dawned she stood beside thi bed of him upon whose face she had thought she might never look again. But he was total ly unconscious of her presence, and raved con tinually of his darling wife, who, in his wild imaginings, seemed threatened with some great danger, which even his love could not avert. Then he would beg of Irene to forgive him the great wrong he had meditated against her, and part from him in peace. The guilty sufferer knew not that in the next room lay the mutila ted remains of the once peerless Irene, whose soul had been so suddenly released from its clay ey tenement. On the night of-their flight, when about thirty miles from Browning Hall, their horses had taken flight, -nd becoming unmanageable, had overturned ,the carriage, and thrown its occupants to the ground with such terrible force that Irene never spoke again. Both were taken up as dead, by some countrymen passing, and Henry only recovered from his stupor, some hours later, to rave in the wildest delirium. It was by the merest accident that the persons about him learned the name of the wounded man, and thus Annie was apprised of his situa tion. Not a trace of the brilliant beauty-for the possession of which Browning had so fearfully sinned-remained when the form of Irene was prepared fr burial. Her face was so terribly cut and bruised that even her own mother could discover no resemblance to her idolized child, in the swollen and discolored lineaments which met her agonized-gaze, and she exclaim ed, in grief, "Bury my dead away from my sight!" For many weary days Henry Browning's life seemed suspended by a single thread, which every moment threatened to snap asunder. But the crisis of that fearful brain fever passed, and the physician donfidently predicted that he would recover. Then for the first time did that devo ted wife take an hour's time for rest. She had been constantly at his side, with her own hands administering and applying every remedf, till exhausted nature almost gave way. But love, strong and imperishable, sustained her through the hours of that dread vigil, and love was her reward. " Annie-my wife !" They were the first words he had spoken since consciousness return ed, and she bent her head closo to his face to listen, for he was feeble as an infant. "T have had a fearful dream, my darling. I shudder even to think of it !" "Sleep now, dear Henry, and do not let it trouble you. You will be stranger when you wake." ' And kissing his eyelids as they closed wearily, she held his hand in hers until he slept a peaceful,' healthy sleep. After some hours he awoke, stronger in body, and with clearer perceptions. "It was no dream, Annie," he groaned, as she stooped to press a kiss upon his brow. " May God forgive me ! I dare not ask your forgive ness, my cruelly injured wife. 0 that I had died ere I awoke to consciousness of my sin and shame !" And the miserable man wept and groaned iihis.soreagny... . - - - Low and soothing were the words sweet An nie Browning uttered, as she bent above her suffering, repentant husband, and pressed soft kisses on his brow. " You have indeed sinned against God, my Henry ; but he is merciful, and ready to forgive. 0 let us pray to him to blot out the transgres sions of the past, and grant us renewed strength that we fill not in the future. Look up, my husband!-look deep into my eyes, and read there my truth, when I say that 1 do forgive you, freely and entirely, and I will help you to forget the past. Fearfully have you suffered, and God will accept the sacrifice of a contrite heart." "My wife !-my angel !" burst from Henry Browning's full heart, as he clasped his recover ed treasure to his bosom, while the tears rained over his face. "I thought you would spurn me from you-for I deserve even that-but you take me to your heart again, and forgive the bit ter wrong I have done you. My God, I thank thee! Help me to be worthy of such love." Gently, in reply to his remorseful inquiries, Anunie told her husband of Irene's fearful fate. The fevered dream of his passion for her had paeced away in the light of his wife's pure, self-forgetting love, and lie sorrowed for her only as he would havo done for any erring child of humanity, to whose wrong-doing he had . een accessory. T'he secret of his connection with her was known only to himself and his faithful wife, and so he had nothing to fyar from public opinion, when, after weeks of suffering, he re tured to his home. Years have passed since the occurrence of the events which I have recorded, but Henry Browning is still the lover-husband, still is his sweet Annie the pride and joy of liis heart. And is she happy ? As happy as mortal wo mani may be, when loving and respecting him with her whole heart and judgment, she feels that she is tho star of her husband's life. From the Southern Lighit. REVISION OF KCING JAMES' TRANSLA TION. This is a matter which at the present tin~e is exciting more or less interest throughout chris tendlom, and is engaging special attention in our own country. We have several times thonght of brnging the subject to the notice of our readers, and the receipt of certain documents from the Bible Revision Association, together with a lee ture to which we recently listened from Bro. En Mesns, Cor. See. of the Association, have re minded us of the duty. We suppose the subject cannot be better introduced than by giving a short sketch of the origin, progress and present condition of the Bible Union and Bible Revision Associations. It is doubtless in the memory of some who will road this article. L at for some time previous to the year 1836, a number of different denomi nations in the United States, including the Bap tist, were united in a society for the circulation of the Holy Scriptucs at home and in foreign lands. This was known as the " American Bi ble Society." One of the rules of this organization was, that the Bible in the current translation, without note or comment, should be the one published and circulated. Bibles in different languages were to he supplied at the expense of the society to the different Missionaries wherever stationed on the condition that "only such foreign versions should be used as conformed in the principle of their translation to KINo JAMEs' . revision ; at least so far as all denominations represented in the American Bible Society, could consistently use them." The duty of furnishing the Society with trans lations to be printed and sent on, devolved of course on the Missionaries. Whenever they had prepared a translation of the scriptures for the people among whom they were laboring, it was forwarded to the society at home, to be printed or was printed in the-country at the Society's ex penise. Well, amongst other Missionaries occu pying foreign stations, was Adoniram Judson of the Baptist Church, than whom few men have lived and died more devoted to his work or more esteemed throughout the christian world. LBeing the pioneer Misssionary to the Burmas EprJdson was under the necessity of pre paring'a trmalation of the Scriptures for the manaadat ir one wrd in ihn New Tinst. ment, the friendly relations subsisting betare the Baptists and the A. B. S., would perhap to this day have remained undisturbed. Now however many may be the peculiarities of the Baptist Church-in however many resaeefs they may differ from other christian professions, and however much in some things they may re semble them, there is one very prominent feature , indelibly stamped upon it, uneffaceable by any change of circumstances-liable to noaalteration - by any earthly contingency. This leading char acteristic is indicated by its invariable rule in ref erence to the action and subjects- of Baptism. Different Churches. "of the same faith and order," may differ widely from each. other in some, points of doctrine, and in regard to meas ures of expediency, but in the thing mentioned, there is universal concurrence, so far at least as we are informed. When then Mr. Judson came to-the work of giving the Burmese a translation of the Holy Scriptures, there arose in his mind a question of conscience-nay, a question of Fealty to his Maker. Should he give to the people to-whose present and eternal welfare he had devoted his life, a simple transcript id'their own language of the translation in use among us, or should he, from the original Greeg, translate the New Testament, so as to make it reflect the true word of God ? Upon a question of such moment, involving ob ligations both to God and man, he could not long hesitate, and he determined, let the consequen ces be what they might, to be faithful. The so ciety might cut off all assistance from him-his own brethern might disown the act, but relying upon Him who is stronger than man, Judson re solved to translate the scriptures; not to trans fer the English translation. We do not know to what extent his alterations in many other cases would have affected his standing with the society, but when he came to translate the Greek word Baptize, by' a word which, according to Philology, classic usage and the concurrent tesimony of scholars of every age and every sect, Romish, Greek and Protes tant, means to put under water, the anticipated result was realized. The society objected, refu-. sed its aid and countenance, and the Baptists drew off and formed a separate society, called the "American and Foreign Bible Society,". thus sustaining their faithful missionary in ' discharge of conscientious duty. Now in reference to this matter we are not disposed to charge either party with do ing, considering their acts as proceeding , . conscientious motives. If Judson believed that Baptizo and its cognates, as applied to. chris tian ordinance referred to the immersion of the body in water, it was his duty so to render them. If the society thought otherwise, who shall chag~e 'it with crime ? "Let every man be uaded is his own mind," said' an Apostle and no one has a right to lord it over another's conscience. To his own master, every one must stand or fall. But, by this act of Judson and his friends, there was a ball started which was not to stop with the accomplishment of the desi whi k set it in motion. Here wa.apa r ple which must operate until it ad worked out t legitimate results. Hence the question arose,., shall the Burmese be the only people to have's faithful translation of God's word ? Shall, we deny ourselves-that which we give to strangers ? . Why should not our own people have in their vernacular tongue, the word of the Living God? Thus it was at Penticost when every man 'heard in 'is own tongue the wonderful works of God." The gift of tongues in the beginning of the dis pensation is Divine assurance that God intends all to know what His word says. Thus reasoning, a few individuals went to work to get up an improved translation and is sued it with a number of words altered from the present version. But the great work now in pro gress, of giving to the English reader a faithful translation of the Bible, took form and substance by the organization of the Bible Union Society in New York in 1850, and of the Bible Revision Association in Louisville, Ky., in 1851; and these two institutions, separate in their formation and continued existence. are, nevertheless, uni ted in the furtherance of the same good object. In the prosecution of the work there have been emploe twenty-four scholars, the best that could be obtained in Europe and America, and belong ing to nine different denominations. The rule governing the translators is as fol. lows:' - " Every sentence shall be so translated as most clearly to express to the common reader the sense of the original, and no word shall be left untranslated that is susceptible of a literal trans lation."-" The whole question of translation to be referred to learned men of various denomina.' tions under this rule." But in reference to the entire process through which the work of translating goes before it is completed, all the necessary information can be procured by addressing James Edmunds, Cor responding Secretary, at Louisville, Ky. Also, * by subscribing for the Bible Union Reporter, N. York, and the Bible Revisian Reporter, Louis ville. Each of these will be sent at $1 a year. From information supplied us by the Secretaries, our own Journal will also keep our own readers posted in the premises. md nteetr As regards the progress md nteetr prise, the book of Job has been finished, and is p renounced an admirable translation. The whole New Testament is so far completed as to be now in process of publication for general criticism and will probably be. presented in its finishe state some time during the coming year:. We defer to another number any discussion of the lawfulness or expeiency of this enterprise, and will be happy to hve from others an expres lion of opinion pro or con. " Prove all thangs, hold fast that which is good." E. L. W. WHERE Ts TruE WzsT?-The editor ofthe flr.> byterian Herald (of Louisville, Ky.,). says,:that. . visiting Fort Le'avenworth, he said to the come. mander, "I su'ppose you begn to feel, away out here, that you have at last-discovered that indefi-. nable region called 'the West ?'" "'No sir,". said he, "we are living in the East yet.. Four' hundred miles west of us, near Fort Laramie, is the gcographical centre of the United States." An Irishman who was engaged to cut the ice, when' handed. a cross-ent saw with which to commence operations, pulled out a copiper, and turned to his comrade exclaimed: "Now,iPat fair playl head or tail, teho goes below." Among the items of the bill of fare -provided for, the crowd who tookpart in theterpschowean finale of the Inauguration ceremonies, were the following: $3,000 worth of wine, 400 gallkns of' .oysters, 500 quarts of chicken salad, 1200-quarts of ice cream, 500 quarts of jellies, 69 saddles of mutton, 4 of. venison,8:rounds of beef, 75 hams, 126 tongues, besides plates of various "kinds. At the head of the table was apyramid of cake four feet high, with a flag of each State 'and Territory, with the coat of arms of each printed on it. HUMOn ux Raas-We observed yetra .-. little thin old man, with a rag-bag nlshnu picking up a large number. of smli l u whalebone, which lay In -the stree. T- de-'' posit was of such a singularnatnre,that . sumed to ask tli.quaint-ildnj gatyr odr v10ice, abut I''spesome ~ uI was wmeena hgqmakeam