of
;_::c.oii>zzf of the escape of as Mexican from the
Inquisition prison, at Lisbon.
[coNcLUor.n.]
<1 Oh, ‘eternal ‘giver of all goot, exclaimed
Estevan, as be. bent his knees b__efore the throne
of his God, “ hear the prayer ofthy unfortunate
creature, recompense my deliverer, whom thy
mercies have enabled to achieve his daring res-
olution.” How shall I paint the transports, the
overflowing extacy, the interrupted exclamations
of the three friends. Iistevan .s.vas indebted to
one for the recovery of his liberty, and to the
other for the security of his fortune. “ How,”
he would cry out, every moment,‘ “ how have I
deserved such love ?” ‘ Are you not my father,’
replied Zamora? ‘ Are you not an honest and in-
'ured man 3’ exclaimed the Consul. Again they
embraced. and mingled their tears together.-
Thus passed the night!‘ They listened, with de-
light, to the detail of what Zamora had done, in
order to obtain the object of his hopes. V.Vhat
admirable address! what presence of mind ‘! what_
secrecy ! what perseverance ! He repeated his
tale over an hundred times, but they seemed nev-
er tired of hearing it. 6 But you, Estevan, how
much you must have endured !’ ‘ From the day
that Ibeheld Zamora,’ he replied, ‘ hope resum-
ed her station in my hcarf, and I ceased to suffer.
But why my arrest? what have I done ?_ what
was my crime ?’ Have not your judges informed
I’
- you? No; not a syllable. No matter, you are
safe; forget your woes, forget your‘ enemies, L
they have suffered for their villainy.‘ My exer-
tions, in depriving yourunworthy host of the
booty of which he had robbed you, and which he
expected to secure, by your destruction at the
auto (la fe, rendered him unable to i‘ecom_pense
his equally detestable son? this base accomplice
- avenged himself by parricide. Fliglit snatched
him from the sword of offended jtrstice;--he trav-
ersed Spain and reached France, where new_
‘ct-imes «conducted him‘ to the scaffold. 1\t.t'lie
-momentof death, he tlec’larc‘(I the crime of which
he and his father had been guiltyvtowards you.
This declaration. properly autlienticated, _.had_
reached me, andif l1eaven_.had not Si‘nil'ed"up”on_
Zamoi"a,~ I would have"l'ziid‘it before the grand’ '
Inquisitor :- but in h4is_wisd’om_, has deereecl
other-.wi‘-se. It only now remailiisthat Wit 'Sll0ll'lCl
convey! you to a couiitry‘, ‘\"?ll‘eI’¢' You‘ h_,‘1a'Y l'J'6_,,_011t’
of the reach o~f'en”vy and of'da‘nger'. I have pre-‘
pared every thing ;- there is'a vessel’ ready to at-
tend my orders, in which you may fly from this
unpropitiojus‘ soil-'.' 'l‘l1ri‘scasltet, and these notes,-
which Zamora entrusted to my care, will secure
' "beds that were in- it,_supplied the place o'f_._soph'as.-‘
Zticil over your prbiierty, and in preserve, at
a considerable part of it; , Let us, however:
at‘ the first commotion, which your flight will
sion, to subside. For know that,-by the- max-
of the Inquisition, your death alone could
ate the guilt of an escape. You are here in
Ice of security, and I cxult in thcthought
g instrumental in your-preservation.‘ =‘
he sun had risen before their interesting con-
ation was ended. The alcaide, whom they
totally forgotten, now returned to their recol-
on. On entering, they had, in a few words,
‘med the Consul of hiscase, who entrusted
to the care of his valet, with ordersto watch
carefully. Zamorathen hastened to see him.
tpected you,’ said the unhappy man ; ‘ I can
iv you no further ; a burning fever consumes
l have lost every thing that bound me to
life. The faithlcss--v'v'hat shall I say ? Love,
ige, oh! revenge! if men but knew the
cl remorse by which ‘it issucceeded 1’
cm the first day, a violent delirium distract-
e miserable suiibrer. ‘Jacintha! Oa Will‘
lacintha!’ he exclaimed in his frenzy, his
gth decayed, the violence of his disorder
ased, all remedy became fruitless, and- in
zlreadful situation he expired. In order to
all dangerous explanations, he was private-*
erred in the chapel of the Consul, and it
generally believed. by the Inquisition of Lis-
that he had favored the escape of Estevan,
ed in his company. ‘i
.e Consul suffered some days to pass .:\w,gy,
g which be caused a report to be circulated_&
Estevan and Zamora had been seen in the»
it-ains of Alcnteijo, as they were endeavor-’
gain the little port oflsagos, in order‘ doubt-
0 endeavor to embarkthence. This piece
ws. passing from one person to another, at
ained the greatest credit, and all the atten-
f the familiars of the Holy Office was turn-
that direction. This was what the Consul
ttpected, and accordingly, some spies, who
een observed about his hotel, entirely dis-
rcd. I'Ie,prof1tedbyvthis murnent of calm.
nastcr of the vessel was now ready; he
liugly sailed and brought too near the Cape
lines. The Consul set out in the evening
lstevan and Ztimora-behind his coach,wh6_m
l dressed" in his livery: and reached Ctisbao.
!iip’s cutterwss waiting..for.thcm ;» he caus-
m to go on board her, and himself conduc-
.=.two fugatives tothe vessel, wherehe en-
:! them to the care of the captain‘. whom be
By ordered to answer for their safety to his’ .
tment. Then after a tender embrace, they
ted.
: Consul returned to Lisbon, while nobody
:ted the motive of lt-isshort journey. The
nmediateiy sailed, and, after aprosperous
e, landed Estevan andzamora safe at Bor-
. Being secure in this retreat, they mutu-
uwed never to separate, and to make the
f. their delivery, that of their permanent
Lion. ,
s‘ is one instance of a prisoner fortunate
h’ to escape from the dungeons of the In-
hrs’; but it is-a rare instance, and who could
5e to hope they might combine so many for-’
circnmstances, as providemially conspired
liberty to Estevan ? But how many unhap-
ims have fallen beneath their barbarous
y, for’ one whose happy destiny eluded
tvatchfulness. '-Still were their dungeons
d with the unfortunatenvhom their re<loub- :
ieo vigilance‘, and irritated temper, deprived of
mercy or indulgence.
---¢Ii-:l:-'35'--
. PICTURE OF MANNERS.
F ram Letters w-rftteuy during a "third tom‘ iii
' .7‘v‘orth-Wales——-By Miss Hu'r'roN.
Public W'eddings are the universal custom a‘-
mong the common people, throughout the prin-
cipality -of VI/ales. Here, if the father of the
bride can afford it, he provides the,-marriage feast,
and it is her portion. If he cannot, or if she
have no parents, she borrows money of some
friend, or obtains credit at some public house ;
and after the expences of the feast are defrayed, ;
the residue is her own. Every man’ who dines-
pays a shilling.‘ Every one that drinks tea pays
sixpence; every pint of ale is served up to the
person who calls for it, and many come only to
drink- and dfnce. ' '
A poor man in the hollow of the mountain,
married his daughter since we came here. He
brewed a quarter of maltfor the occasion, The
table was‘.sp'read"out of doors—fo_r his house,
consisting if one room only, could" not contain
the txfmpauy. Forty persons sat down_at once ;
and as soon as these had dined, forty others took
their places. My father, who ‘gave me this ac-
count, «was an invited guest. He remained there
nearly two h'oui's_; and during _..that time, saw a-
bout one liu‘ndt'cd and fifty’ persons. Two only
of this nuuflier could speak Erigllsli. V Not a fe-
male appeareclirir any thing but woollen ;4 norone
Without the bearer hat, except the-m'ot'he“r of-the
bride, who was the-cook. '
The'banq'uet co'nsis‘te'd of live roundsof beef, '
attended by bags of pease, and mountains of cab-
bage. These were placed on the table in succes-
sio'n, as freshxcompany den'i‘an‘ded afresh supply,
and formed luxurious‘ fare to‘ people ‘accustomed
to live upon oatmeal and buttcrmilln ‘The guests
dined off wooden tréncliers, and - sat on wooden
_planl1ts,' “supported by slates. -The dessert was
butter and cheese. g T.he bride, her father, and
mother waited-. A harper made one of the par-
‘ty ; and another was expected. . The house ser-
ved for an occasional‘-tlrawing room—-and two
At Llanbehlic‘, the parish church-.of'Caernar-
von, 1 saw a’ sailor married to, the (‘laughter of a
_slioem‘aker. The brideg-room‘ m‘arc‘h’ed first,
vvitlilris bridémen, or as they are here called,
his ‘s'e_rvants',- one on‘ each side; the -rest ofitbc
men-followetl, three abr'e"ast.- T'hen* came the in-
tended bride bctween her servaiits, and the rest of
the women in the same order,‘ closedthe proces-
sion‘. There we r'e‘ab'oiit 40‘ p"er‘sofis-in tliewliolc;
these town ladies were not clad like the mountain-
commandiug officer of the brig, and the master
-of the schooner.
large coop there.
-you try you can’t get it, so its no use.
‘vessel arrivcdin Boston with a cargo valued at
which would alleviate the pangs of dissolving
Es.-
'ee'rs, in "woolen, but in flbtvered ébttofi germs,
white petticoats, and white stockiligs. The bride
and her maids were distinguished by white satin
ribands in their caps ;: the beaver hat is ever the
Same» but these were ornamented with a smarter
bdw than those of the rustics. The morning He-
ing rather cloudy, a part of their finery was -e-
clipsed by their blue cloaks, which nothing but
the hottest sunshine, and sometimes not even that
cantempt them to lay by. -
W'licn the clergyman came too certain part
(if the service, he stopped ; the sailor stepped
forward, and laid four shillings on his book.—-
The pa.rson.very cbmposedly gave one tothe clerk
pocketed the other three himself: and thus sure
of his reward, pitoccededto make the lovers man
and wife. The ceremony ended, the two bride-
men flew at the two poor defenceless maids ; and,
after some struggling, each ravished a kiss. This
is an established custom at a wedding, and also
between godfathcrs and godmothers, of all ranks,
at a christening. Iftheilady can leave the church
without receiving a salute, she claims a- pair of
gloves; if‘ the gentleman succeed, she is suppo-
sed to be-satisfied._ ,.
Every person“-.’a“cquainted with either of the
families-, makes it a point of honor to attend the
wedding feast. .Aconsiderable sum is thus col-'
lected for the be‘gefit.of. a young couple begin-
ning the world ; 'and each, receiving it in histurn,
is only laying up a fund against his own marriage,
or paying a debt contracted at it.
. __
It is well known, as actgstom‘ in many church-
‘es, that the women are placed on one side, and
The men by themselves, opposite. A clergyman
in the micldlevof his sermon, hearing one of his
congre ation talk pretty loud, complained of it
from t we pulpit. A worn‘an« immediately rose
up, and thinking to defend her own sex, said, ‘the
noise is not on our side, reverend sir !’ ‘ So much
the better, my good woman,’ replied the clergy-
man, ‘ it will be the sooner over.’
‘FROM ‘THE BOND or UNION. --
During the late war, a small schooner laden-
with silks, wines and brandy, belonging to Ston-
ing-ton, Conn. was hailed hn her homeward pas-
sage from France, bya British armed brig, when
the following dialogue took place between the
OFFICER. Schooner ahoy !
YANKEE. Hallow ! l
O. VVho commands that schoone’r ?
Y. ‘Why brother Jonathan us’d to, but I do
now.
0.‘ Brother Jonathan !. VVho the devilis broth-
er Jonathan ? _
Y. ‘Why you must be a darn’d fool notto know
brother Jonathan; every body in townknows him.
0. Send your boat on board. V
Y. I don’t know whether I shall or not: for
the boat.,,_is all soggy, and‘ I -an’t got no new
clothes-I-Brother Jonathan’s got a new coat‘, if
he’s_amind to go he may, but I’m sure I shan’t.
'0‘. Strike!
, Y- Strike! why I an’t got nobody here to strike
but father, he’s cooking, and he's crazy ; and if
I strike him,’ he'll strikeback again--—so its no.
use. ”‘ .
‘ ‘O."§’Vliatare’yot1*loaded’ " ‘ ?
Y. Bale-goods, and_l . ud Vl1en"s‘{»@_,'$_l):-tnds,
hob goblins and long-fa , entry. *
O. V-Vhere are you bound to ?
Y. S-t-o-n-i-n-g t-o-n.* '.
O. VVhere’s your bale-goods ?
Y. There they be.1‘
0. You d-—d fool, do you call them bale-goods?
Y. ‘Why sartin '. don’t you ? '
O. VVhere’s your hens and your hen’s hus-
band's? ‘
Y. There they be in that are coop here.
0. \Vhere’s your hob-goblins ?
Y. There‘ they be in that are ’t_other great
0'. Where's your long faced gentry ?
Y. There they be in that are pig stye.
0. Have you got any thing to drink on board?
Y. We had some rum when we came" away.
but the ca‘g’s away down under the load, and if
The British officer having received but little
satisfaction, and having no doubt become disgus-
ted at the seeming ignorance of the Yankee, re-
turned on board of his brig; and, having order-
ed brother Jonathan adozen stripes, to learn him
wisdom, left the poor simple creatures to take
care of themselves! A few daysafterwards, the
one hu'ndred't/tousand dollars .’ .' -
"“B.y thistime, Broth‘cr Jonathan had boarded
the brig, where he was compelled to remain’ until
the schooner was examined by the British officer.
‘l'Pointing to some bundles of clapboards and
shingles, which he took with him" on his outwarcl
passage, as a covering for his cargo.
__...__ I
1‘ FROM THE curt-rs"rt.m" rranun.
T/ze Profligate Converted.-—-A pious and ven-
erable father had a vain and prolligatc son ; often
had he reasoned and expostulated with him,
mingling tenderness with advice, ‘and tears with
re'monstrance——but all was ineffectual. Bad com-
pany, and vicious habits, rendered the unhappy
youth (leaf to instruction.
der seized his parent, who calling his sonto him,
entreated him with his dying breath, that he
would grant him one small favor, the promise of
nature :‘ it was’ this, that his son would retire
to hischamber, ha'l-f an hour every day, for'somc
months after his idecease. lle prescribed no
particular subject to ‘employ his thoughts, but
left that matter to contingency.
A request so simple and easy, urged by parental
affection from the couch of death, was not to be
denied.' The youth pledged his honor for the
fulfilment of his promise; and when he became
_an orphan, as punctually performed it. He re-
tired daily to his room. At first his mind was‘
At last a fatal di'sor- '
but in ‘time, religion in’
world-was withdrawn‘, _,
wakened ; -it -reproved; rffor
parent who had done soiiifiiucli for’-hi _ N)
renewed the impression of his dy.in‘g»;i§‘sci:ne; it
gradually pointed him to a Supreme Cause, a fu-
ture judgment,‘ anda solemn eternity. It pleas-
ed Goa’) to ganctify these solit'ary’moments, and
to repeat and strengthen their conviction. Re-
tirement effected what advice could not; a real
and permanent change took place ; he quitted
his companions and reformed his conduct, virtue
and pietyfrlled up the rest of his days, and stam-
ped a sincerity on his repentance : to say all in a
word, he lived and died a Christian‘;
......_ V,
I anon THE msnxsnmm swan.
IV/zcrc I/zere z's.no talebcarer the strife ceaect/1;
Such are the-nature and condition of man, that
it is necessary to cluster into vicinities and neigh-
borhoods.
which tend to produce jealou‘sies,disaffection and
jangling. But among them. all, that of talebear-7
ing occupies a pre-eminent station. Perhaps‘
there is not a more common vice among man-'
kind.
the first stone. For the writer feels himself in-
ding a small billet of very soft, light wood atthis
predominant vice; lest it should rebound with
accelerated velocity against his own head. And
yet how common,'how universal-scever this vi-
cious practice, there is not one, of minor conse-
qucnce, that has such a direct tendency to destroy
the peace and happiness of society. Its natural-
consequeoee is to render men jealous, distrustful‘
and unsocial ;' afraid to speak lest their words
should be reitereated with all the malignant col-
oring which the tongue of slander can devise.-
Man is formed for society. His being’s end
and aim,is happiness. But can happiness, can-,
peace, ‘ can mutual intercourse, and‘ reciprocal
kindness exist among talebcarc'rs ? Can that
man be a christian, and training up under divine
influence, for an inhabitant of the skies, who is
continually blazoning about the foibles of his fel-
low travellers’ to eternity ? Let me ask you, in}-
dear friend, do you expect to go to beaten, :-."-—:.1.
there find employment of this sort? 'l‘l.:,o. ;.r:.2'.
mean to go there is undoubtably true. But wt‘-.;=;:.
employment do you expect to find ? You have
spent your days here on earth in recountirg,
with pleasure, the faults of others, and will zzoi
be likely to relish the holy employments of that
place where all is peace and love.
change must be wrought in you before you can
be delighted with such a place and such employ-“
ment. And if that change be not begun in you
here—if you have not that charity which casts a
mantle over the faults of others-—\vhi‘ch ‘ beareth
long, and is kind,’ what evidence have you, or
what evidence do you exhibit to the view of others
that you will ever arrive there ? Is there not ev-
ery_ reason to bclieveyon are carried along-by the
smooth currentof popular applause, down the
broad stream to endless perdition ; while you are
deriding the narrowriuws of your more consci-
entious neighbor, as unworthy to be‘ compared
with yourlmore-libe‘rtt_l‘and enlarved philanthro-
py? _‘ That religion which is from above, is first
pure, then peaceable, gentle ; ‘full of mercy and
good fruit; without partiality and without hy-
pocracy.’ And ‘ the fruit of rig-hteousrxess is’
sown in peace by them that make peace.’
How often doesit happen in neighborhoods, in
. Towns, that’ a great quarrel originate-; from a
An evil surmise, a distant inuendo
may set a whole Town in a blaze. “Behold how
great a matter a little fire kindleth.’ ‘ ‘My breth-
ren these things ought not so to be.’ It is one
of the greatest blots of human nature that most‘
men, instead of diminishing, take pleasure in
magnifying the faults of others. But what prof-
it is thisto any one? What is the reward of a‘
talebearer ?' Does he not and that justly receive
the execrations of’ every individual? For even
talebearers will not justify each other.’
mere trifle.
endeavor to mitigate the miseries of life. Let
,us consider that there is no perfection in man ;-
and not charge to the heart that which belongs-
to the head. Let us ‘ lay ‘aside all malice, and all
guile, as new born babes, let us desire the sin-
cere milk of the word, that we may grow there-
by.’ Let us ‘ study the things. that make for
- peace.’ Let us ‘ be kind, tender hearted, forgiv-
ing one another, as we hope to be forgiven.’ Let
us ‘ seek an inheritance'r"in that city whose build‘-
er and whose. maker is God.’ '1'1:iEorrr1I.Us.
———-u-1:-I-—
rnorr 'rx—1i=; NEW’-HAMPSHIRE s‘a:v'ri¥Nr.'r‘.».
‘ One mug of rod rev.-2ard.—-Lost, afew nights
since, about the middle of the night somewhere
between the grog-shop and Poverty valley, or
Poverty-valley and‘ the grog shop, my old large
neclt"tl pint bottlc“'—(a pocket Companion for a
great many years)‘ the stopple out, round the nose
of which is writt‘en,in blazing capitals, INTEM-
PERANCE, with the word Descr'2zc:ion on the
bottom ; on the body of the same may be seen,
in large italics, RUJW, which letters besides giv-
significations, viz.
1 st. R. reckoni‘n;:—-U; unpaid--'.\"l. moneyless.
2d. R.- ruined—-U. undone---M. mortal.
. 3d. R. rel'ot-rnation——U. uncommon-——M.
’mongst tiplers-—et cetera, too many to mention
when in a hurry.
Whoever has found, or may find, said bottle,-
whole, and the contents uninjured, shall receive
the aforesaid reward, it being understood that
the subscriber expects to drink a share o_f'the
same. ' BACCHU8 Gnoo-Dnrmusin.
Poverty Valley,’ /my-Iz'me, "1818. y
N. B. Having business both sides of the way",
it is uncertain which side said bottle may be.
I
It is a wise provision in nature that fall men
should love little women, and that little men
should love tall women. It is this that prevents
you fronttatiy imxriedi-ate want : I pledge myself
not disposed to improve tltc_minu'.es of sol-itudc ;
ants.
—
In these a thousand incidents occur,: ‘
competent for any greater effort than that of wiel- ’
A grefi‘
Let us‘ all, my brethren, instead of heightening,’
ing a clue to the contents, have several mystical
the world’ from being filled with dwarfs and gi- ‘
I .
'\
\~.
Vi/ho is thereithat is not guilty ? VVhere ~,,, -
is.th'e person? Let /ziin come forward and cast;
~ 5
.
-»;
Norwalk Chronicler