_T
From Bias/t'=zv0od’s Ec1z'nburg fl/Iagazinc.
THE SOLDIER IN EGYPT.
BY THE LATE JOHN FINLAY.
'F."om my slumber I’ awoke at the dread hour of
night,
And down to the ocean ‘I’ sped;
The moon on the billows was trembling tk byight,
\ As it rose o’cr the Pyrami2tl."s,‘l_1eatl.
its dream-like a magicgfar deare'i' than Sleep,
As I tru_.d my long cuurseion the sand;
And dear was the blaSt_i§IS_li§7bll;\V o’er the deep,
For it came from my dear" native land.
Tit-_.'l)attle had ceas’d with the sweet setting sun,
13-.it I heard its dread tumults again;
1 paused, it was nought but the answering gun
Of the watchman afar on the plain.
I thought of the woe and the carnage again-—
I look’d o’er the wave’s\distaut foam ;
And the tear that had started at the sight of the
slain, I
I shed for the friends of my home.
(3 ‘. pleasant it is on a far foreign shore,
To think on the days that are pnst-
jt, wakes the dull spirit that s;lumbcr’d before,
.. Like the rain ’mid the wide burning waste.
'\‘v’as it hope or illusion my bosom thatrwat-m’d,
\Vhen I thought on the birch of the grove,
Like a wretch half bewilder’d with magic that
charm’d, _
i heard the sweet voice ofmy love.
To the spot, 0 ! forever be fet_ter’d my sight-
With the sound ever charm’d let me be,
E’en this course cover’d strand is st couch of de-
ll}:-Jill,
\Vl‘.en such visions my ‘fancy can see.
Fro):-2 //to Boston Patriot.
TO TH SEA. SEB.FEN'l'.
.H.“.ll.- I mighty monarch of the deep I
Leviut han of Job!
Thy train can through old ocean sweep,
And circumscrtbe the globe.
11
.574
You, and the Ccmer, lookalike,
And visit us together:
Amt sliociltl you both upon us .s'trike,
'5;'h,:ie’tl be a change of we_ather.
Long. hast thou gan‘ibol’d round the coast
Of Massachusetts Bay’; _
" But no commission dost thoti boast,
And yet won’t go away.
if any thing on shore you wish,
_ Among our ciiél band;
You’ll fare as well as any fish ;--
‘.‘."c: long to see you land.
You’ll have more compliments on shore,
_ Than you at present know ;--
”.r">.s many folks, and likely, more
Than visitctl Mounog-2. _ - -,
"9'r"e’?l all survey }'titir'.1jt%‘g},l‘_t',,,§llicl'd -'.
.l;'r:>xu crippled to y‘outh":..,<“ s
O, ‘r Southern brethren, too"\vi‘l'l ld_,_;_., 5’
”'.f»,lIl‘£’; own we tell the truth. ' ’
F". S.--Nois',__ll/Lf. Slfihbplil, be so kind,
licfnré vr‘iu'lcuvc.gi=iy;,sea, *
- ' ‘ J». .
As to {llt'Uli{C your secret mind,
And. trill us who you '7‘, -.1 .
HE.l\’°IiF IV 001) VILLE.
A TAL7:1——-.BY MRS. OPIE.
[C02€T[NUED.]
I
I E‘ was not long before Henry had the gratifi-
«:'.:tion which he so much desired, (that of seeing
the ladies) for, having seen them walk out in the
cool of the evening towards the banks of the riv-
er, he._had followed them ‘at a short distance; and
on their return from a walk along the river to-
. _w-ards Piercefi-sld, he contrived to meet them.-—
'gf_I'ltit what words can express his emotion and de-
'light, when he found the dreams of his fancy re-
alized at last, and that he at length beheld once
more the only object whom he had ever loved !--
And she was living where he could see her every
-day ; and perhaps he mightibt-come acquainted
with her-—-perhaps he might even visit her L.-
‘ Oh 5’ thought ’He1iry, ‘ whatever I have suffer-
cd, I bless the aliliction that led to happiness like
this.’ Henry could not certainly give a strong-
er proof that he was deeply enamoured. .
Butafter the first moments of this happy deli-
rium hadsubsided, he recollected that in his pre-
sent situation he had no right to presume to be
acquainted wi_th Mrs. Vincent and her daughter ;
for, what was he now? An outcast, with at halter
continually hanging over him ; a convicted crim-
inal, who had gescapecl the punishment awarded
hint by the law,‘ and now seeking in solitude antl
disguise, to avoid the fate which might‘ulti’mate-
ly be his ! ‘ Alas I’ thought he, .‘-with this stain-
ed complexion and lheseblacked brows, how can’ O _
'his‘complex1on, when he was likely to meet boats
I ever dare to'present.myself.beforethe object
of my.-l‘;:itliftii adoration 1-’ ‘_ u 2
M.--. Courtnay had advised Henry to retain his
artificial complexion, brows and hair: but vanity
and perhaps 3. better-fe<:liiig,'novv led him to dis-
‘ regard this advice, :a'n(l‘§;to resolve._to- ‘get rid of his
seeznings as soon as he could, whether he became.
3-knovvn to the _Vinceh_ts or not.
Accordingly, to the surprise of his landlady,"
the (lark-complexioned youth became. every day
fairer and fairer: but this she very naturally at-
tributed to the fine air of l'lercfordshirc. "Ll‘lie
next change was from dark hair to auburn“;-—
that she felt certain was change not owing to
’ air alone : butias fortunately for Hc:nr_v,.slie was
not of a’ suspicious nature, she only supposed that
before he wore a wig, and iipftv he did not; _
His auburn brows vvt':re'l'now allowed to wear
their own natural and becoming hue, and to har-
monize as"usual with his aul)Ul‘I):.l_3‘illt': and when
he said, ‘ She shall see-me as I really am, or not‘
at all,’ he might believe he was entirely guided by
;5’-integrity of feeling and principle at the moment :
but certainly, if integrity inspired, vanity must
. '; Vbu tv then_fs'h_e was .1
.for disguisewill be over.’ . ~
.Monmouth, they returned together in a boat.
_,,
the natural man was infinitely superior to the ar-
tificial one. \Vhether the rejecliofi.”ofall disguise
was, under his circumstances, approved by pru-
dence, is another consideration. ‘
Mrs. Vincent was very soon, by different cir-
cumstances, thrown in the way of Henry’s'land-
"lady, and they were mutually pleased with'each
other. Mrs. Vincent saw in her, one who was
likely.ito'prov.e,._a kind and useful neighbor; and
she‘_aclmit7e_,_d.iri;fl\/Irs.'[Vin,cent, an affable and ap.
'_ _ A I leiver vomen. , The daughter
,\v';a:s,."sbe thou‘gh-t;;«’quit_é eauty, ‘and Very enga-
o’}young to be a com-
a"pa'_nion to l1er.f.“',,___ I , g
In consequence of this acquaintance, I‘/Irs.V in-
landlady ;) and it was while she _was lool.ing’.o-
ver a portfolio of Henry's drawing-'5, which he
had lent her at her particularrequest.
. The drawings were good ; so much so, that
Mrs. Vincent begged leave to take them home
with her to show her daughter ; and _Mrs._ Evans
ventured to grant the permission. ‘
Anna Vincent, on seeing them, pronounced
the drawings to be so good, that they must be by
the hand. of an artist ; and as her mother was ve-
ry desirous that her daughter should obtain in-
—stl‘uCtion in an art of which she already l-znew
something, Mrs. Evans promised to find out if
Mr. Granville would take a pupil. ,
VVhen Mrs. Evans put this question to Henry,
he was so choked with joy that ‘could scarcely
answer it ; but at length he said;‘ To be.S11f_e I
will--and gladly too :’_——and the de1ight'ed‘7pT'Mrs.
Evans went over the may immediately, to com"-'€j7
the glad tidings, leaving the happy Henry atlil.v-
erty to walk up and down his room, and express
his rapture as incoherentlyjas be pleased.
But Mrs. Evans soon returned with a message
which damped his joy completely. ‘ Mrs. Vin-
ct-nt‘s compliments, sir, and begs you to name
your terms.’ .
‘ My terms 3’ exclaimed Henry, starting,‘ My
terms ! V.-Vhat does she mean 3’ But recollecting
himself, he added, ‘ Oh, yes, I know now--yes--I
yes : I will consider about it.- Tell her, with my
respectful compliments, that she shall hear from
‘me to-morrow :—-and the good woman left him,
not as before, to joyful, but painful consideration.
For, if he was paid for his lessons, he must be-
come acquainted with them only as an inferior ;
and that would be an unfavorable circumstance
for the success of his love, and was not therefore
to be thought of. But asa gentlenian, and a per-
fect stranger to them, what preteiisions had he to
become the teacher of Miss Vincent? But then
again he considered, that in his own real person
he could never now presume to address her or a-
ny woman; and was he not forced to submit,
through adverse circumstances, to the disgrace. of
‘appearing under a feigned name?
‘ Alas l’ thought Henry, ‘ as a hired drawing-
master I am now a far more respectable person
in situation than Henry VVoodville, and have as
good a right to address Miss Vincent, therefore,
pride avaunt l,—-and I will ask her so much ales-
son, not to be paid, however, till my lessons are‘
at an end, and by that time perhaps all necessity
_ . -,.
~'I'l’ie next day therefore, he sent Mrs. Evans 0-
ver to acquaint Mrs. ‘Vincent with his terms,
which were accepted ; and with a beating heart
Henry prepared the next day to beintroduced to
Anna and her mother.
The wished yet dreaded hour.at length arri-
l
ved ; and Henry, as Mr. Gmnville,-was present-
ed to Mrs. Vincent and her daughter by Mrs.
Evans. ' ' '
It is very certain that when Mrs Vincent and
Anna first saw Henry enter the room, and beheld
his graceful bow, his blushing cheek,fand ingen-
uous countenance, t "T gther looked grave, while
the daughter looke , But, Mrs. Vincent
knew that she had al " s inculcated in herdaugh-’
ter a horror ofa misalliance, and she trusted that
her pride would keep a sufficient guard over her
affections. .
The young lady no_w, at a sign from her moth-
er, producetl her drawings, which, though much
inferior to his own, Henry admired exceedingly ;
and at theend of the first lesson, the pupil and
the master parted, satisfied with each other, and
eager for the next lesson. A .,
Mrs. Vincent too, could not help owning site
had rarely seen a more pleasing looking young
man, and she suspected that he had once been in
a higher situation in life." Anna had thought so
before: and perhaps it was not. wise in her moth-
er to confirm her judgment in this point by her
own. ' _
There were only four days in the week to
Henry ; namely, those on which he went to give
Anna her lessons, Of the intermed_iatetime he
passed much in ivatching from behind a tilllilgljll,
to see them go in and out. He used to rise at
day-break; sometimes to make sketches on the
water, and of Chepstovv Castle,foi' Anna to copy ;
but he dared not walk out, now he had rcgainetl
on.the river, or pers‘b'ns’ on the bank; and when
he took his evening walk, and met tl1ela’tlies,Mt-9.
Vincent by her manner showed that she «lid not
mean he should join them. ' . j
Insensibly, however, her cold reserve ivoré, a-
way ;'and as Henry assui'e'd her 1\.’Iiss'Viricent
tvouldjlearn to draw from nature much better if
be accompanied her, she was allowed to rise ve-
ry early twice a week, and with her mother par-
take of Henr_v’s morning rambles and sketches‘:
and sometimes when they had walked towards
Still he was not on visitingterms with them.-—
But -accident favoured- him in this respect ; as
Mrs..Vinc_ent fell into thewater one evening, by
over-reaching liet's__e_lf in trying to save her hand-
kerc'h_ief,, which vvas floatl:n‘g‘g,,-ay, while she was
witl_if~’=Anna in tl1t§i;,ift=1iddle‘:eof’tl1c river; and she
wéuld probably b'een'drowned‘,had notHenry,
who was passing, jumped in, and seizing her as_
she rose,;‘_succceded in dragging her to land. ,
This was ajoyful event for Henry ; and nev-'3
er had his ear. drunk in such sweet words as.
haye 1’-*:wat'tled the ablutions and the change, for
now, when he heard the soft and touching voice -.
e _ . . _ .
_ Mrs. Vincent, though alarmed, did,not suffer
from the accident; therefore there was no draw-
to the joy of being preserved, there was-to Mrs.
Vincent a considerable drawback in the captiva-
tions ‘of her preserver, who was already tot‘:-
charmirig-,sl1e feared, for the safety of her daugh-
ter’s afl‘ec_tions. .
She now could not, without excessive ingrati-
tude', omit to invite him as a guest‘ to the house
occasionally ; as Hrs. Evans now told them the
flute which charmed them so often on the bank,
was played by Henry : and while he was there-
cent called oneaevening at Mrs. Evan’s (Hcm-';;’s‘- lone enabled to display another accomplishment.
and Anna ntiw asked him continually to accom-i
pany her on tliespitinet, and in her songs, Mrs.
Vincent saw there was no safety for her daughter
but‘in_ r.emoval ; and on pretence of sudden busi-
ness, she told Anna that they must set off for
London-the next week, or the week after at fur-
thest.
The paleness of her check, the tears that start-
ed in her eye, and the dejection of her manner,
would have revealed the state of her heart to her
mother, if she had not suspected it before; and
Anna she knew could, no more thanherself, have
been blind to the evident attachment which beam-
ed in the expressive eyes, and spoke in the soft-
ened voice of Henry whenever he addressed her.
And he had savetl'her mother’s life too! and
that tender mother knew this circumstance alone
would have led her affectionate daughter to.
behold her master with eyes of tenderand grateful
regard. ' ' -
I-Iowever, unless Anna declared her secret un-
asked, Mrs. Vincent resolved not to own that she
already knew it: and she hoped that her absence
and other scenes would remove the impression,
which, as yet,'only three months acquaintance
had deepened. ‘ -
I/Vhen Mrs. Vincent declared her intended
journey to Henry, he was sitting with them on
the banks of the VVye, and drawing a view which
Anna particularly admired.
But when he heard the misery that awaited
him, the pencil fell from his hand, and he was for
a few minutes incapable of speaking; and when
he did speak, it was in a tone so mournful !—but
he did not express any regret; he only said‘ shall
you be gone long ?’
‘ Some months,’ was the answer. And Henry
starting up, declared his hand shook so that he
could draw no more. 4' _
The banks were now enamclled with that flow-
er, radiant in Heaven’s own‘ blue, long known in
Germany, and now known in England by the
name of‘ Forget-me-not 1’ and as Henry was un-
consciously gathering it, and then throwing it a-
way, Anna asked him if he knew the German
name of it. He replied in the negative; and
when she told it him he gathered a large bunch
of it, and declared that he wpuld carry it home
with him. “if
The next day he rose very early, and drew a
‘bunch of these flowers; and when be next saw
.bel‘what it said. ( . '
VVhat more .he- would have said, emboldened
trembling frame of Anna, I know not ; for Mrs.
Vincent now entered the room,.and Anna, instead
of showing the painting, with a consciousness
very" flattering to Henry, hastily enclosed it in
her portfolio. ‘
7While Henry was thus winningtlie daughter's
affections with her own free will, -and the moth-
er’s against her will, his daily visits became al-
most necessary’ to the peace and health, ajz[za7‘e1zt-
(y, of an-obscure man at the extremity of the
village.
M rs. Evans was very good to the poor around
her, though her. means of being so were not a-
bundaut; and she soon found that her new lodg-
er, like herself, had ‘ a hand open as day to melt-
ing charity.’ She was also a great doctor, and a
Henry, whose grandfather had been a physician,
had early had. his attention turned to medicine,
"with a view of being brought up to it: consequent-
ly his gnd landlady, on finding howwell he talk-
ed on the subject, whenever she started it, used
to consult him now and than on some of her cu-
rious cases.
One day she was ‘so lame with the rheumatism
as to be unable to move, which she excessively re-
gretted, she said; because there_was a poor dis-
tressed man in the village, whor__rrslie could not
,~_i"5i; as usual ; and she was afraid that he really
wanted a fresh prescription. .
Henry immediately of-‘fered to visit him in the
evening. But as she was accustomed to seehim
at noon, (the time when he was at the worst,) and
she knew the surgeon from Cyhepstow was too ill
to visit him at all, Henry, who was now grown
bold from imagined security, promised to go and
visit the poor man immediately : and having re-
ceived the necessary directions, he set offfor his
cottage.
c The poor man has,’ said Mrs. Evans,‘ a sorry
jade of a wife, through whose means it is said he
has been connected with smugglers ; but she is
gone frolicking some where, and he is always
(post patient and tractable when she 1s_-away.
.' Henry soon found the place to which he was
dil"ected‘,- and entered a" dark and dismal-looking
dwelling, -where on a flock bed, with tape-tied cur-
tains neve‘r ‘meant to draw, he beheld a wretched
looking "being, whose sunk pale cheek: and half‘
. .close,d;'c.yelids, (closed not in sleep, but with Ian-
guotj)7lpoked the very image of ‘ pining atrophy.’
He-didgnot ndtice Henry’.-3 first entrance; but
when heiasked him how he did, and said ‘he was
come to visit him because Mrs. Evans could not,
the wrtjtched being‘ started up fromhis pillow,
‘and exclaimed, ‘ For nierc‘y’s sake what voice is
that: Ihear! and what do you come hither for 3’
Henryigcntly explained his business, and who
we was. But the man after gazing on him. with
{rightful eagerness, fell back fainting on his pil-
ow. . -
'7' (To be continued.)
I T .
of Annaihall him as the prcserver of her moth-I
I‘. ’ A 1 _ ;_‘-
‘ilitick to the pleasure of the young people. But ‘
Anna, he begged her to accep it, and to renientt- -
--by the downcast eye, the blushing cheek, and"
great surgeon also in her own estimation; an_t!_~" »
EW Goons
" J.’ Street,_ f
HAS this day received afres/z.suppI‘y ‘
Dry-,Goods,- Groceries, and 3 ,
‘ Crockery. V , _.
. I
MOST of the articlesin the Store .-.2r,‘-,-§;_,c*1¢‘11.;7/1.,°. b"
He cann_ot say, you will do well by cE._z.'.'.';‘,5fi-‘~,i,- If‘ you -
can do better, you certainly have the privilege of
golllg i‘“’aY €mPt}'. You will find all the arti-
cles enumerated and many others. -
LACK Sinchews, Plaid Silk
Green and changeable Florence
Light Plaid (iinghams--new style
Linen Carnbric
Red, White and Yellow Flannels
Fine undrest blue Calico .
Low priced green aiid blue do.'t6 cents per yd.
Parasols, white and black silk Stockings
English and French silk Gloves
Kid and assorted do.
Fine sarcinet Cambric, Cotton and thule Lace
Superfine Jackoriet Muslin,jj_Eine Leno Cammic
Plain and figured Book Musliifs
Cambric Muslins of various qualities
Canton and fancy silk Hhdkfs
Tortoise shell Combs, large and small
Ivory and Horn do.
Pink ‘and blue striped Ginghams
Carlisle Ginghams and Robes _
Furniture Chintz and Calicoes,some vel~y’¢-Jggam
Bombazetts, black and assorted colors
Italian and Canton Crapes
Cotton stripes, shitting and Ginghams
Apron Checks and Bed Ticking ’
Steam-Loom shirting I
Irish Linens‘ from 25 to S0 cts per yard
Plain and blue Naiikecn V
Striped Jane and Russia sheeting . ‘
Real superfine blue and black Broad Clotltsa? .
Blue, black and mixt Cassimeres-- \
Olive Velvet Cord’ (very, stout) 37 l-2 cts nr. vd
Marseilles silk and buff Cassimeic Vesting ‘
Plain and striped cotton Cassimere
30 doz. Fans at 2 and 3 cents each.
LIKEWISE.
Blue printed Teas, Enarnel’d do.
Ewers, Basons and Chambers
Elegant Luster’d Pitchers
Enamel’d and cream colored do.
Blue printed Dining Plates, Twifllers 8: lylufrins
Cut Glass, common Tumblers, Stone VVare, 8tc._
Ar.so,_' ' ‘
Rum, Brandy, Gin, ‘Winds, Molasses, loaf and
brown Sugar, Rice, s”alt, spices, tobacco, snuff,
Candles, soap, Honey,Young Hyson, Hyson skin
‘andgsouchong Teas, Spanish Indigo and segars,
wrought and cut Nails, Kn_ives 8: Forks, Spoons,
Locks, Hinges, screws, Buttons, Pots, Kettles,
and many other articles not enumerated.
August l4-. ..
-Seed Wlieat for
100 Busfsels or the fix-st rate.1€gr3.=yiztii‘an,ath_clf2()'f"
tp. rm-
,
-v.’s
‘ix.’-1 .
I ~.
63
sit tll,€=-fil‘5l{-‘G16 ~S2’ls.er.-‘an’ if-'EED ‘W27
sale by. the subscriber. . .
DAVID BALDXVIN.
Soutli-East, August 16. so
Last Call.
LL persons indebted to Tf7:zot/1;: H/'. V.:1°2:"cr-
bilt, by Book or Note, are requested to niake
payment by the thirteenth of September, without
fail, as he intends putting all accounts unpaid in-
to the hands of an attorney for collection on that
day. . , ,7. ‘
T. \V.VAND1-‘.RBu.'r would inform the piiblic,
that he has constantly on hand a large assortment-
of Ladies and Gentlemen’s BO0'I‘L‘S’ SHOES,
which he will sell low for Cash, as he intentls to
keep no Books from this date.
Norwalk, Aug. 24..
.. ,. ,._‘e'
Foun(L a. Poc.ket-Bool«:, ‘
N Sunday last, near Mr. Zalmon Hanford"s,
containing sundry papers. Thcowncr can .
have it by applying to the subscriber, and paying
for this advertisement. . '
‘ "FIMOTHY VV!-II'l'N}-‘.1’.
Norwalk, August 23. 09
so
.~......-,.. .,
bold in Albrgoglk, M1” gust 23,
1319. l » . V g,
V I-IIS Court limits and appoints six months
from this date, for the creditors to tlie-’§.es- I
tate of James Beefy, late of said Notwvalk-d€C58S'
ed, to exhibit their accounts against saic_lg___estalc,
and the administrator is hereby ordered to give
notice thereof as thelaw directs.
Test, VVi\t. G. Br-:'r'rs, Clerk.
Notice is he,-eby given to the creditors to the,
estate of James l§eaty,._l'~‘-"-'-‘- ‘ff N°f"V““" d_°.‘3'~‘35“j'l'
that; unless they exhibit tl‘le‘.l' claim-s agattnyst szlttlls
estate, within the time above limited, they -.tv.ll;-_,§. ,
ever after be deb&1'l‘€<l 3 l‘€0-"V¢l‘.V-
‘ SETH TAYLOR, ./1a'r.2z'.rz:'s.'ro."or.
Norwalk, August 23. "39
./It a Court of Probate hair! :2?‘ Stan;/‘o_-ml, in. b'zo.-.r:-
ford District, on t/2e 7'!/1 day of July, l8l9.
S. H. Mmon, .Iu,d_ge, 1u'cscn.l.
N applicationof 'l‘HaDD'1%:’ti_S‘ B1:r'rs. Execu.
0 tor of the lastVVill-an_d"i_ Liiinetit of C/uzrlcs
O. Cannon, late of Nor\'tzja‘l‘k.§?-ldeceased ; This ,
Court limits seven months fi"t’1‘tz7.,'tliis date, for the
exhibition of claims agaiiistg7the.estate of said de-
ceased, and orders said Executor to give notice
thereof as the law directs. D
59 S. H. Mnvon, Judge.
,__.. ...—..
S _'
At a Cou1't'qfProbtztc
q3==L ast Call;..f£l}
‘ HE subscriber would ONCE MORE notify.
all persons indebted to him, that unless their _
accounts are settled immediately, they must ex-
pect to be called upon in 2! more unpleasant man;
ner, before‘ the close of the prese-“it bnelllli-_lcI'nz. _‘
« . ‘ E.‘D. HOYT.
1f
Norwalk, Aug. II. '
Norwalk Chronicler