IL. M. JONES, 'Publisher. ? "at the public good w e aim." M. M. LEVY, Eorro*. A
m m -J?J?~asBBB3aeBssammmmma**JS
TOL. X# tlillDEIV, SOUTH CAROLINA, SATURDAY JANUARY 13, 1838. , AO. *? :1
. . 'v < '. -y .v._\ , '-* '
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. TMKJtgS
orthe ,
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A Tale of the Affections.
BY MBS P. W. BALL.
The fire blazed cheerily in the grate.
Hie candle set oil the little stand in its
burnished cottage candlestick beside the
clean-swept hearth, the simple furniture
was arrayed with neatness and care around
the pretty little parlor, and an air of comfort
seemed to pervade the apartment.-Ah
! th?t5ccniing, would there were more
reality in it! And who were the occupants
of that cottage pat lor? Alas! one soli
tary woma passed the meridian of life in
appearance, sat before that blazing hearth,
and as she jrcntly rocked herself in the
cushioned arm-chair, with her arm's mournfully
folded across her breast, an occasional
tear rolled down her pale and sunken
cheak and fell on her bosom. With all
the means and appliances of comfort, she
sat the picture of uncomplaining despair.
No word escaped her lip, no frown contracted
her brow, but silent sufTerence
marked her pale features.
Subsequently, I beard her history from
her own lips, and though mine will be
but a faint transcript of her glowing
language, yet I will endenvor to give her
own expressions as nearly as possi- I
ble.
I was an only child and early left an i
"orphan to the care of n maternal aunt, a '
very ili-tempcred woman. My infancy
and childhood were unblcsl by those ca- i
rcsscs that give confidence to the timidity 1
natural to children, and as I was refnarkably
homely in my features, strangers 1
never bestowed on mo those little alien- 1
lions that the beauty of my aunt's chil- i
drcn drew- forth. There was but. one i
being in the world who showed the least '
.affection for me, and oh ! with what de- I
votion of soul I returned it ! George
Mann lived only a few miles from my 1
ctonl's and we daily met at the country '
.school to which the children of the neigh- '
horhood were sent. Our teacher was a '
drunken Irishman, and oftea he visited 5
upon the heads of the innocent children ?
of poor parents the misdemeanors com- <
mittcd by those of more opulent families. s
It was upon an occasion of this kind that 1
George's kind feelings towards me were <
first called forth. Something had been I
done wrong that called for expiation, and '
i was the selected victim. I never knew *
or cared to invesiignte the justice of the 1
matter. I always suleri'tcd in sullen si 8
lence, for there were none to champion I
my cause, and of what avail were my re- 1
monstrances against the cruelty and in- *
justice of the pedagogue ? I stood forth, 8
but the first lash had scarcely fallen on 1
my shoulders, before the whip was
wrenched from ilm i??r?4 1
... w ?VUUUVA V? I I (I I i ?i f (1IIU '
George stood close bcsitlo me. glowing 1
with passion.' He was a stout boy and 1
many loved him, and all were willing to 1
sustain him; some for the love of frolic, I
and others because they abhorred the r
cruelty of the Irishman, and had perhaps, ?
been his victims at other times. "Dare 1
not touch that poor little orphan girl, she F
is the best one in school ; if you must *
beat some one, beat mo!" he exclaimed t
as fire flashed from his dark eyes, and the *
crimson current rushed to his very tern- *
pies. I forgot the smart of the lash, and <
the presence of the whole school; for the c
first time in my. life words of approbation r
had met my car, and I became a new ?
'creature. s
I grew to womanhood, and one strong <
and fervent passion ruled every impulse '
of my being. I loved George Mann; 1
and though he had never told me so in so 1
many words, yet I believed he loved me. t
I was scarcely less homely, as a young ?
woman, than I had been a child; .and my *
relations 1 id not give-mc those advantages I
Of tires* ttout make so great an improve- 1
mcnt in th" appearance of ihc plain. I f
had studied to remedy this defect by cultivating
my mind and understanding by t
every means offered, and though the sys- ?
terns of education now in use, were then ?
unknown, yet I read many good authors *
and reflected much on what I read. I ?
observed that George, though he trifled r
and flirtd with my pretty cousin, yet in- *
variably sought my side for a few minutes I
when he became serious, consulted me t
as a friend, talked to me of his plans for f
the future, brought to me every new work t
he could procure, and always managed
that I should make one in every little t
party that occurrod, and in every rural I
excuraion. Thns my life glided away In 1
a dream, from which I scarcely wished to'I
' -
awake, when one morning, my. aunt called
me into her chamber, and after saying in
a more affectionate way than she hail ever
xpokeh to mc, that she was about to consult
my judgment, 44f?r ?"? believed I
possessed more than any girl she knew;*1
told rhe that Qeorge Mann had proposed
for my beautiful cousin Mary. Had a
dagger pierced my heart, the pain could
not have been more acute than this disclosure
produced. 'Fortunately my aunt
never suspscted my secret, and therefore
attributed to surprise the start that I
involuntarily made before I called pride
to aid ia suppressing any further exhibition
of emotion. The arrangements were
gone through, the time appointed, the
dress made, and none guessed the fatal !
secret that was quivering at my heart's
core.
My aunt, delighted at the eligible match 1
her favorite daughter was about to make,
was profuse in her generosity, and for I
the first time made no distinction in the 1
materials of which my dress was com- '
posed, from that of her daughters. The ;
dreaded time came, and all my phyloso- <
phy?all my woman's pride was called '
up to meet it with calmness and apparent '
indifference"; but the trinl ????? <
w. . ?. ?*uo IIJUl'M | (
for my strength, a burning fever seized on j
my overwrought nerves, and George was,
married while I lay in burning anguish j'
on a sickbed. Fortunately (he unusual:'
bustle engaged every body too much to | >
permit them to pay much attention .to 11
me, and 1 rejoiced in the soliibde that''
their neglect created. j'
I arose from that sick bed, stern, and j'
cold, and proud. None lived to love me, i '
and I loved none. The dreem of ycuth,)*
that robes life in the golden hues of :
poetry and romance, had passed, and 11]
awoke, believing that I could live on <
without feeling any warmer emotion than j
mere passing esteem creates in the bosom. 1
Fool that I was, thus to he self-deceivprl! <
I had yet to learn that our deep succpti- (
bilitics arc given us as strong evidences, (
that earth is not our abiding place, and '
Ihc strong cravings of our heart for rcci- '
procated affections, the best pledge that a '
higher ar.d happier state of existence s
awaits us, after which we are forever un- <
consciously sighing. I
A year elapsed and George was a drunk- 1
ard and his wife unhappy. The surpas- (
sing beauty that had captivated his fancy t
had already faded, and her weak and nckle 1
mind, and spoiled "temper, rendered her '
the very worst companion for a man of 1
bis ardent and impetuous temperament. <
About this period I met with n young '
man nearly my own age, and extremely ('
handsome. Thad always been a great 6
tdmirer of beauty, for the very reason that s
[ was totally dclicint in personal charms, >
ind looking on him as a mere child, I |
>penly expressed the strong admiration I|s
entertained for him. flow was 1 sufpri- h
;ed to find that in this handsome youth I '1
md met a lover ! Warm and imnnssirm. a
?d in his manners, and ardent in all his *
pursuits, he never ceased soliciting my v
md until 1 had promised to become his '
vifc. He was the master of an unencum- F
le'red fortune, and could act as he pleased, v
ind in six months after I first met him, I c
tecamc the wife of one of the handsomest a
nen I had ever seen. The comparisons I
hat sometimes met my car were unpleas- n
int and inviduous, but Henry loved me <]
ind 1 was for a time happy. I
I became a mother, ami my long pent ^
ip nifections found full exercise in the t
lew and delightful emotions that materni- a
y called forth. My infant confined at t
iome,-and Henry soon began to tire of 1
ilaying the nurse. It is 4 fa til error that d
nany young mothers commit, that of be- n
stowing their undivided attention on their e
irst infant, and too suddenly ceasing to n
)ay these little flattering attentions to their tl
lusbanils, that form the strongest tie on f<
heir affections. Henry still loved?still
vas proud of what he was pleased to call g
ny superior intellect?but he wearied of I
:onfinement, and sought abroad for that n
iniuseroent he had hitherto shared with b
ne. 1 thus cut myself ofT from society,
tnd neglecting all personal embellishment, a
iank into a perfect slattern. My child p
'mployed my whole time, and. as 1 had f<
lever loved Hortry with that devotion I li
i. # /t * ?? * ... -- ?
en ior ueorge Mann, l troubled myself <
>ut little with his amusements. Judge t<
hen my horror when I learned by acci- n
lent, that Henry had formed an armour h
vith a beautiful, but silly girl, in fashiona- p
dc life, and that the consequences were p
ikely to be fatal to her reputation and e
>eaee of mind. n
My eyes were opened tomy error;I did n
iot reproach him, but I went again in U
ociety?again gathered the young and g
he gay beneath his own roof; for obser- e
ationhad taught trie that show and parade n
ire the best modes of'stopping the tor- I
cnt of slander. My parties were throng- a
d, and wc were invited every where; r<
iut alns, confidence no longer existed be- a*
ween my husbnnd and myself. I had ?
lever liked to go abroad, and now that b
he demon of joalousy was awakened in nr
ny heart, I looked on Henry*s atiei^pn ii
o handsome women with an IntolefKle d
lenrt-bi.rning which I could not conceal., a
[ was again about to become a mother, a
>ut very different were my feelings now a
e . #
,?J|
from those I had formerly entertained.?
I looked with abroad to my long confinement
and consequent seclusion from the
society of |?c fashionable world. Alas,
my fears wero more ?han realized. Henry,
unrestrained by.my presence, rushed
into every fashionable exre9*. The cup
of pleasure that had touched his lip was
top seductive to one of his ardent imagination;
and he fell the victim of his own
ill regulated passions. He had seduced a
beautiful girl, and her brother sent him to
the awful bar of justice without allowin ?
him lime for repentance or atone*- pnt.?
i v ...m:? - -n? *
? ?.?o u wiuuvv?a wiuow unecr circumstances
to wring and break a proud heart
like mine. Henry's fortune was greatly
impaired, and I and his two sons were
barely left a competency.
You will say that curel*- never again
did I embark in so uncrrtain n lottery;
but Woman's heart is made to love, and
though the conviction strongly pressed itself
on my mind that I was deficient in
those charms that lltach the other sex,
yet in two years after Henry's untimely I
Jcath I was again a wife. I can scarcely!
tell you how this happened, for 1 married,
\ man whose personal qualities were!
greatly superior to his mental powers.?
He was exceedingly vain, and I believe'
was ashamed of my want of that which |
he so highly prized in hir.-sclf?personal
beauty. He confined me us much as possible
at home; nnd-i have often wonderEd
why he married me, for I scarcely
think he ever felt any affection for any
thing but himself. 1 was soon released I
From the temporary delusion of believing!
f Invnil htm n?#l .... -2 ' ?. -? ? - 1
. ... . . ,, uuu >? fiii lauuir lliuceil WtIS
he bondage I endure! with that wuk,
si I ly, handsome man. His constitution
was delicate, and he died leaxidg me
juite poor. But the mother was all
lwukc Within n?y breast, and I thought
it no hardship to labor for those beloved
mes. My son^ were fin;1; promising boys,
ind 1 felt a pride in their "possession?a
juiet happiness in knowing that none divided
their warm yonng hearts with me.
[ exclaimed a thousand times. All, tin v ;
ovc mc not the less that I am rot hand- I
lomc; and those who possess even an or- i
linary share of beauty, cannot imagine ;i
?ow consoling to m) wounded heart was'i
his reflection. I had 110 means of educating
these bo)*s, unless I devoted my
ime to them entirely; and that I could
lot afford, as their subsistence depended
ipon my diily labor. This ind ired me
o ofTer myself as a teacher, and I succeeded.
For several years I taught alone:
>tit as my school increased, and my chiI- <
Ircn grew larger, I could not bear to be I
cparuted from them; and I entered into a <
chool as subordinate teacher in which a <
'nung gentleman named B<-llman was i
irincipal. He was an exceedingly hand 1
omc man, and as talented as he was I
**!- ?
lawitawiiic-. his mum, near and strong, j'
Irew an unerring line between the tmtlis <
nd sophisms of science, an?' his manners
eere as bland and graceful as his heart <
?as benevolent and kind. 1
I do not know how it happened, but '
>erhaps I had contracted a prejudice against i
cry handseme men, and had somehow (
:onnectcd an idea of mental imbecility <
nd masculine beauty ? thul 1 looked on 1
Icllman with a sort of tislike; and it was <
tot until I discovered how many good t
[utilities he possessed, that I awarded 1
dm even a common share of e-teem.-!? .<
Lbout this time the measles hr< ke out in '
he school, and my sons?they whom I 1
11 but idolized?they whom alone in|<
he wide ivorlri l?v?wl mn???? ? ? li
^ongue cannot express llic anguish I cn- t
ured as their glazing eyes were fix* <1 on a
line, and I fell the current of life ?st V
hbing away beneath the pressure of my *
ngers. They died?one grave received v
Item both?and I'had nothing to live P
:>r* . a
Months rolled round, and'the apathy of c
rief still shrouded me in its sullen folds, t
could not be resigned to God; 1 felt that r
line was too severe a destiny, and I re- <1
ellcd against him. ' f
One cold evening I sat in my solitary t
parttnent, alone and suffering. [ had f
arlod, one by one, with the little com
arts that surrounded me, to proiract that v
fe that was burtlioiisome, and yet that I I
pared to lay do.vn. A knock came a
o my door, and B?llman entered. 11 is ti
lanners had always been kind and friend- c
/. and now they wcro particularly resectful
and soothing. He came to pro- f
ose to me to resume my situation as tea- ii
her in his academy; and he urged 60 niay
reasons, in so gentle and kind a man- t'
er, that I acceded. A whole year I il
night in the same apartment .with this n
rachful and amiable man without be- t<
oming sensible of the danger to which I <!
an' u*|iu3iiig my mo Keen stisceptiDimies. h
felt the strongest friendship for him, tl
n<l admired his personal graces while 1 (
esprcted his moral worth. One day I s
ccidei>ia>!y cvcrhe*rd a conversation to v
rhich 1 could not avoid being a listener, 11
etween himself and a thoughtless young (
lan. "Heavens, Bellman! what a shock- n
lg ugly woman that teacher is! why o
oiv't yoo have somebody prettier to look tl
if"?"Oh, she ia ugly. I allow," was the I
sply, "but she is very clever, and I hare v
great friendship for her?"?''Friendship! n
V * ?
11 could not feel any thirty but disgust for
j so ugly a woraau."?t4Of course one could
not love her/* said Bellman, *M>ut her
plainness need not create disgust; #on the
contrary, I. should suppose that it would
xcite sympathy."--I coughed, and they
walked awav from before the frindows.
I know not what strange perversity
took possession of my mind, but for months
1 strove to please and fuscinate Bellman,
lie was much younger than myself, and
therefore I had undertaken that which I
could not rationally hope to accomplish;
and eveo had 1 succeeded tin my object,
success would have yielded mo nothing
hut the gratification of a very wicked and |
perverse spiril; f r I was too cruelly!
aware of the slight tenure by which a:
hornplv ivuman -?! '
-J ? lllllll 9 dlll'U^IKII.*)
to be ugain a victim to any similar delusion.
Bi.t she who strivs to win is almost
invariably lost; and ere I was aware|i
of the strength of deling that yet remain- i
ed'in my crushed heart, I loved?loved I
again with all the deep devotion of my I
earlier years* I was wise enough to I
withdraw from a game where I could only I
he a ioser, ami i had a good excuse for) J
doing so. My auntdicd, and at her death , I
did nte that justice which she had so long I
withheld. Sho restored to me the inhcri- '
tanre left me by my parents, and now I <
am comparatively rich. But they are I
g ?ne?my beautiful hoys! I am alofic?
and of what avail is wealth to the broken <
in spirit?" ' I
So spoke the solitary woman, as she '
erased her hands upon her hosorn, and j
refused to hr comforted.?Zancsoillt (O.) 1
17V,...,.. ~ I?
uvtitiiig r inner. !'
11
From the London Metropolitan for OctoberA
Trujreclj of the American Wood<t.
Just as (lie shades 01 evening were beginning
i. enshroud the deep valley that '
repof.es at the foot of the wild and lofty 1
Porhono mountaii s. I aporoached a lone 1
eolruge, which was marked out on n?y 1
travelling chart as the place for me to 1
pass the night in. Although I had never 1
i?een in that oart of the country, yet the 1
building of squared logs, or "blocks" 1
that now presented iiself, was in some (
m asure an old acquaintance since poor. (
and lonely, and cheerless as it seemed it
had acquired a name in the history of mat 1
part of the country with which it was
connected. Its wooden walls was blackened
with the tempests ol half a century,
and the'traditionary tales connttced with
it were familiar to ev. ry child, in the distant
settlement. A person of the naine
of Larner had been induced to settle here!1
before any of the valleys in the sonthern (
lislrict of country (now Toll of people) 1
jontained one white inhabitant. What 1
nduccd this hardy o>ati to hury himself %
indayoung family in tbe wilderness, so 9
Far from all the pale-fac s, as the Indians e
railed the ite people in those days, is, ^
Jiflicult to conceit e. ' ?
On his way to this secluded dell, he j *
inUSt have Passed thrmii/li manw a .. !!?? it
. - - - "' J ?
which pi esentod a fertile soil and a more 8
ri
serene climate; but induced by some feel-1 1
rig *vhirli must naw forever remain a se- :1
ret, Larner, with a wife ami four or five 1
hihlrrn, accompanied by a younger bro- ^
her, took possession of the extreme head;'1
?f a mountain valley, and there built the!*
sombre looking building no\v before nn-. 1
It has been surmised by many, that thej'
Contiguity to the adjoining mountain was P
lis chief inducement to settle here, for s
te was a remarkably keen hunter. There r
o rtainly were more wolves and panthers '
n that vicinity than in any other part of P
he State, besides an abundance of elk 8
ind deer, vith a great variety of other 1
;amc of smaller not . They did not de- 1
'ote their tiii.e exclusiv< ly to hunting; for
vhen they had resided here some half t
core years, they had managed to clear a
iway some forest trees from a few acres v
"f land, sufficient to grow more grain than o
he family would consume. About this f
>eriod thev were awaited on by two In- 1
lian warriors o<* the six nations, who in- 1
drilled the Lnrners, that if they valued s
heir own safety, they must immediately ?
ly from the abode thev hod so lonu in-:v
* - - - ?? ** J
inhited. Tins piece of intelligence which | tl
vas delivered with much apparent sinceri-; n
y, was at the time but little heeded, for i ft
Ithough they had never before been ac-.i'
tin iiy rcatened by the Indians who had a
iccasi inally visited them they had some-jir
lines used a little caution when they sus-1 rt
lected a party of Indians were any where, s'
ti the vicinity. J In
One day, shortly after the visit of the!'"
ivo warriors, the younger of the brohers
returned from an excursion on the '
muntftiii. will) the somewhat startling in- h
rdligence that he had crossed, in his wa> h
own, the trail of an Indian party, and p
e shotdd judge from its appearance that |*
he number was something considerable. ,r
le further stated, that he had from the l'
umniil of the adjoining bill, carefully stir- 01
eyed the forests all around; but no curl- ?
rig smoke rose above the green foilage,
f>?r it was summer,) to denote their hunt- ?
ag fires, neither had he heard the report r
>f fire-arms* during the whole day. To 11
hose acquainted with the suhtility of the
ndian character, this report was some
i*hat alarming. and the loan family di't
oiiied ' be circumspect in ill their cu^vc- (
monts. Their arms consisted off three >\
rifles, one used by each of the brothers. j
and the remaining one by the eldest Ml* '
a stout youth of nineteen. It wasagptfcd '
hat they should keep watch during the
night?the brothers end the sons lakltyr
it by turns?and the (ire was extinguished
before it became quite ilark.
Some hours after midnight, and
the father ol. the family was heaping* *,
watch, he thought he perceived a bright
spark of tire advancing slowly acrosa the
small piece of meadow in the direction of
the house, and as it came nearer he dialinclly
saw part of the body of a naked
Indian., There was no mistaking the intention
cf the incendiary, and as all fu
parphed and dry with the scorchsng mum
of J ill v*. Ji firi? nnco iimllA/l L?
J , ? ... ? - ...? >IIIMIVM U^UIIIOI HIV
lime-seasoned log walls oi their dwelliqgy i
the whole dwelling would be in a blase in
a few minutes. Larncr was in the upper
story in an opening in one end of (he
building; but us the Indian came nearer
be changed his course a lit tie as if he in*
[ended to make his (ire in the rear of the
bouse. It was a moment of extreme
inxieiy with Larner. If he permitted
the villain to pass the rear of the building
lliey were all in a short time to be burnt,
md most probably massacred by the raerrile.-s
beings, no doubt in ambush close
by. i 11 he tired and shot him retribution
would certainly await them all, and in
It 4 k.
iMinLi ia?i- uc consuiereu mem a doomed
family. But he did tire; and long befqlre
the reverberations were silent in the ad*
joining mountains, the Indian bad given
one lofty bound and shrieked the shriek
of death. The report of the rifle brought
the whole family to his side, and he related
to them all that had taken place; ami
it seemed a matter of doubt whether the
Indians would uttaek them under cover of
the yet remaining darkness, or postpone
their onset until the return of day. ft
seems they did wait for daylight, and
wiion it re'u ncd they commenced firing
it the different windows or openings*'
vherever they imagined they might reach
he inmates. This plan, however, had
lot much effect. One of the children re*eiv?'d
its death wound, but the rest escaped
unharmed for tne present. ,
As I before stated,.in the bacfc part of
heir building there was no opening. The
Indians finding the plan of firing at the
windows not likely to prndnce much effect,
determined upon making a circuit
through the neighboring woods.and th*?r?
by gam th*1 defenceless rear of the dwelling.
This plan, however! was anticipated
by the bosieged; for when the firing
w. ised, the Larners suspected they would ?
nake this movement. The two brother*,
here lore, without much difficulty contrived
to make two small Openings in the
liingled. roof; and when the assailant*
merged from the woods behind the builling,
the two leaders were instantly shot
lown The rest, unappalled, rushed forh
curd, a I'd before the brothers could reload
heir pieces, there were a score of the
avages under the shelter of the building*
rite sou. too, bad not been idle; for by
1 - * 1 1 " ^ ' 4
nrusiiug one-hall ol his person through
In t-iid window he had been enabled to
ire upon ihcm as they rushed for the
icuse, and he made one of them bile the
lust. Yet, alter all what availed it? The
ndians would instantly set tire to the
louse, and they would all be burnt alive.
Phe brothers, therefore, immediately reolved
upon the family quitting the prenines,
and making for the woods. But
his plan was nearly fatal to the whole
inrtj; for before they had crossed the
light hollow in Irout of tfie woods the
wo brothers and three of the children fell
o rise no more.
The eldest son was singled out by a
ill powerful Indian, who pursued bird
cross the field of growing rye. They
rcre each armed with a rifle, but neither
?f them Stopped to fire. Young Larner,
lereeiving that the Irdian gained rapidy
upon hiin, for his knee had been sfighty
idjtired by a ball, bethought himself a
tratsirnm it> liioh ?!#% mn to I ca?ro/1
itfUBVfM fTlllVM ?U?IM>U^IJ oa? V.\? mill.?1
i?me of the part> near the house were
et occasionally firing at the fugitives
lint made for the woods, so young Larer,
as if he had received a death wound,
>11 amongst the tall grain. The Indian
istantly squatted in the grain also, being
pparently suspicious of gome trick In4|is
itended victim; but in a short limb ne
lined himself upon his knees, in order to
"rutinisb the placd where young garner
iy, when the young fellow, who had
pen arranging his piece for such an ocIviim
nl llio Irwlioii ?nJ ?t>??
, ...... .... .......... .iif- iiiiii >
the hrain. lie did not wait to reload,
<t in spite of the soreness of his? knee,
e pushed for the woods, which were but
short distance. Once behind a shelterig
tree, he re-loaded his rifle, and harijf
done so, had? the sntisfacti(<n to 5nd
tat none of the surviving Indians pufsn(1
him; there were many of them engaed
to scalping Ma fother and iiucle, and
younger brother and two sisters?-while
t'.crs were in pursuit of his motherland
idlest sister, who had sureeedld in reach*
the woods.
For two nights he continued to wander
' ?e forest, hut during the day he rfr
ned b dden in sou'e nollow free? At
atl, huogr.rcd and wtu*y, he jvVcht.dhi
' "