Edgefield advertiser. (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, March 18, 1857, Image 1
" 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