Norwalk Chronicler

Norwalk Gazette, Wednesday, October 14, 1846 · page 1

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7KGAZETE.

 

Published Every \Veducsilay Morning, by JAMES REAE1),

 

'\r*./xzs/\ r V‘ .~V\

 

NUMBER 351-NEW’

JOB PRINTING,
o F A L L K 1 N D s
l§\'eeuteil at l!ieG_ai'I.eltc0flEce.

 

SADDLES, Ii} ARE

 &c.
UBLIC Attention is invited to the large and
_ elegant.assortment of I-Iariiossns, Saddles,
Bridles, \Vliips. Trunks, die. to be found at the
establishin(=.nt ofthe subscriber, euihraciiig, as it-

tloes every variety of article and style of 1iiaiiii-
iiicture.
double Hiii'iics.<e;-', wliicli are wortliy the atten-
tiouof those lititiig out pleasure. cquipages.———
There are also several very light and airy siiiglo
liarncsses, dcsignezl for ill.¥;li.'ll(‘..~;.\' but iiiaiinfictiii'-
‘ed oftho bestiiiaterials, and eiubi'acing the double
merit of security and tastcfuliicss. l‘lvci'y art‘.<-le
needed in the line, may be found lii,-re, of the

best quality, and on very moderate I'(.‘l'lllS. II-e-
pniriiig as usiiiil. \\-"31. B. Si\'AN.
Norwalk, July 29, 1846. 18

HIil‘iL’S Double, Single, and Children's

'l‘i'usse;-, for sale by J. A. \‘\'i«‘.:-:ii.

7 IIE subsz-rilier lias nindo :ii'i':iiigciiieiits to

keep a good a:.:soi'tiiient. of \VA'I‘CIII<IS,
J E\VEL.l’t.Y, SILVEII. SI.’O( >NS and all
the various aiticlos in the line of Faiicy floods,
and the Sfl'I(.‘lt‘.*’l attention will he paid to tho
repairing of \Vatclics, Clocks and every variety
of jobbiiig.
, The following is but a small sample of the
articles now on liaiid—additioiis will be made
weekly.

l/Vezl«:Iics.—\Ve have but a small assortineiit.
of them at present but shall receive during the
week a complete stock ot'evc1'y variety 5.’. price.

lVulch ICC}/.5‘ um] C.-’iai/;s.——-\Ve have a fair
lot of Keys of diiferciit patterns, sucli as Fob,
Guard, (to. Also, Silk, Steel. Silver and Rib-
bon Chains-—-Gold Chains during the week.

Fiizgci‘ Zi’iIig.s——A.:iil here we think we can
suit the most (llflicull, as we have Jet, Paste,
Ruby, Enierald, Aniythist, Topaz. Scale aiirl
plain Rings. Also the (.i'-alt'¢.'-nic Ifiiigfer the
cure of all diseases.

Breast I’ins—Froin 4 cts. to of alinost
every kind, some very liandsoino 5iiiit'a‘.it-n gold, -
very cheap.

T/i.imblcs.—Silve.r, Gerinan Silver,Stccl,Pla-
ted, Brass, 6.-tc.

&Bru5Iics.——Cloth, IIair, Teeth, Sliaving, Nail,

‘c. &c.

' Conzbs.-—\X'o have the new patterns of La-
dies’ Twist Comb, the noatest in market, line
Ivory, English Di-essiiig, Shell Twist, Shell
Side, IIorn T\vist;, IIorii Side, some as liaiid--
some as Shell. :‘rei-niiin Silver, Dressing, Pock-
et and Fine Combs. \Vood Dressing, and Pock-
et Combs. Gold Pencils, Silver and German
Silver Pencils.

Pens.-—Gold Pens. J. P. Snow’s find point
Diamond Pen, Stenographic, Boston Mercan-
tile, \Varren‘s, Gillott’s, \Vindal’s, Pcrry’s, Ball
c\’. \Valker’s patent Flixoii Pen-—this Pen is
superior to any in use for easy and expeditious
writing, being shaped in such a way that the
point cannot catch the paper, and also never fails
to make a mark-—t.hc poorest peiinian can write
with it, and many who have tried them are as-

\/-‘ z\,\,~,\.-\/~./\/\/\/\z\/\/\/xxx/\ ’\z\/\r\r\/\z~

Among the lot are several sets of

 

SERIES.

 e‘ —A gcncics for the

Ei:nriifor<l Mutual, and \VestchcsIer
Pliutmai lusiiu-airee Companiies-liave
been established at the Gazette Otlice.

.I_.i1ii:s R.i~:i~:n. Agent.
AGENCY OF THE
\'l’~iEliiaansbxa:'g Fire has. Comipany,

No. 74 lVull stivact, Nero Yer/r.
D!i.'{‘:b‘(3'l1‘0RS
Sainunl \Villt-ts, Charles C). Ilandy,
\Villiain I,.:iytiii, Thoinas McElratli,
l*‘i‘ederick \-V. Ii‘-.iri'o, Nicholas \Vyckoll',
Andrew C. Bani-dict, Samuel II. Clapp,
Leinuel Iiicliardson, Abin. T. Van Boskcrck,
\Vasliington Post, .Iereniiah Johnson,
Ifraneis Dnllois.
A. B. II()l)GES, Sec'y. \V.-isii"ro:.' Posxr, Pres.

 

 

Tho citi'/.eiis cfNor\vall<, and of the county of

Fairfielil, who are desirous of ofl‘(-ctiiiginsurance

in the alioveuaiiied company can be accoiiniioda-
toil on favorable terms by applying to

.I. CAMP. .ln., Agent.
I\orwalk, July 14, 1846. Q9
IU5.-J ‘.:'~:i’ ‘IZEDREX IINSUERANCECO.
Ihzgiaitzsl $309,900.
GEORGE ST. JOHN, Am-‘..\"r.

EYE‘ IIE public are hereby informed that the

l ./.\geiit still coiitiiiucs to insure policies mid
efli-.ct' iiisuraiiccs upon buildiiigs variously loca-

.ted and occupied; and upon \\"arcs and Mer-

'cl1aiitli7.u, family stores, t\:c. contained in thciii.

,6 I.’ci'soiis wisliiiig iiisuraiicc, will please call upon

,the Agent at his residence.

E I_)i-lay not doing till to—iiiorrmv, what should
be done to day. If property is VV’()l’lI1 owning
and lmepiiig. is it not worth insuring?

I Norwalk, .liinuary 18-ft}.

 Piroteeliou Hnsiizrauce Co.

-, II.-\R'.l.‘FORD, Ct.~—\V;\i. J. Srni-:i«:'r, Agent.
i 1 x a" I ‘ ' ‘
~ GI‘ It EIIS to Insure Ilouscs, Stores, Nfills,

Factorie.~i, and the contents of each, to-
gctlier with every similar species of property,

l .xfg‘(1i.'ii.et Loss or Damage by Fire.

iThe rates of proiuiuin oll'ei-ctl are as low as
tliose of any other siiniliir institiitioii, and every

'man has now an opportunity, tbr ii trifling sum,

-to protect liimsclf agaiiist this destructive ele-

,ment, which often in a single hoursweeps away

‘the eariiings of many years.

Norwalk, .lanuar_v 1846.
NORIVALK ENG LISI-I AND CLA SS-
ICAL SCHOOL.

IIE next quarter will commence on Mori-
. . day the 3d of August.
TUITION.

In Common English Branclies, $4 00 pr qr.
Laiiguages, ' 5 00 “ “
Frcncli——cxtra 2 50 “
Music on the Piano, including use

ofinstriuncnt——extra 12 00
Incidental expenses, 25
A 'I‘caclior’s department. will be opened at

(6

H

H

5‘ (I

,tho coninicnccniciitoftho qi-—-—in which lectures As I look 0

pursued as are adapted to the wants of teachers
of common schools. Certificates of scholarship
will be given to such as sustain their examina-
tion. STORRS HALL, Principal.

Norwalk, Jsly 27, 1846. 15

Third Arrival 1

NW Sfllllill & Slllllllllll llllllll

AT NE\V CANAAN. .

R.-IYIVIOND & Co. Dealers in A-,
. iiicrican, French. Italian, German and,

 

 

/\/\/\/\;\/\/V

 

NOBVVALK, CT. I/VEDNESDAY,

POE T RY.
POIQMS ON LIFE.

Life is onward—uso it
\Vitli ii forward aim,
Toil is heavenly. choose it,
And itswarfare claim.
Look not tn another
To perform your will ;
Let not your own lirotlier
Keep your warm liaand still.

I

Life is oiiward——iicver
Look upon the past,

It would hold you ever
In its clutches first.

Now is your dominion,
\Vcave it as you please;

Bind not the soul’s pinion
To a bed of ease.

Life is onward—ti-y it,
Ere the day is lost;

It: hath vii'tue—bny it
At wliatcvor cost.

If the world should offer
Every precious yrcni,

Look not at the scolfer,
Change is not for them.

Life is oiiward-——lieed it
In each varied dross.
Your own not can speed it

On to happiness.
His bright pinion o'er you,
Tiino waves not in vain,
I-lope chants before you
Her prophetic strain.

Life is onward——prize it
In sunsliinc and in storm ;
Oh do not despise it
In its huniblost form.
Hope and joy together,
Standing at the goal,
Through life's darki.-st weather
Irlvacon on the Soul.

MISCELLANY.
_'r'1»11’im M..iiD—ol~‘ étiat.i-Etéaoti.-.
BY D. DI. ELIVOOIL

CIIAPTER III.

On the rock where Edward Morley sat
fishing where he first saw Wecnora,rcclin’d
Otlio, the Indian stranger. For a long
time he sat in moody silence, apparently
watching the eddies of the stream as it
whirled through the rocks. But his
-thoughts were away, and, at last, as if im-
patient at being so long ye-nt up within his
bosom, unconsciously to himself, they
found vent in words.

‘Wliat can this be that comes over me
at times like some dream ofmy childhood ‘I
n the scenes around this spot,

.._..___ ._ _. ._.._fi

'will be given upon teaching and such studies-a dim rg-membrane of themcreepsjthrough

my brain, as if they were familiar to me
.-years ago, and then had been forgotten.
This rock, the spreading elm above me—
ztliis river with its tiny whirlpools, and Its
frothy crests—and the huge walls that
form its banks below, all seem like seine
ifriends with whom I have of old been inti-
.mato. Even some of the faces that here
meet. my eye bring to mind an indistinct
vision of things I have seen before; and
when I first loos; on them memory can al-

tonislied at the case and facility with which they ; India, Snk, \\r,,,.,,ted and F,,,,cy DRY GOODS‘ ~ most grasp the c,rcumSumceS__but then

can put their thoughts on paper, Brass and}
Composition Pens.

Ladies and Gentleinen’s Dressing Cases——i
some very handsome) and convenient. \Vel
have also a beautiful article coiita ining Perfiuiiery l
for a Ladio’s Toilet. All kinds of Soaps, Co-

ogues Poniado, Rose \Vater, Otto of Rose, , Muslims, 0,.g,,,,di,,S,,,,.,,,tcd L,._w,,s, 1>m.iS Reps, ' infancy.

have just. received the past week, an extensive

.with the very effort to recall them they

assortment of the latest; and most fashionable fade “way, and leave me dark and doubt

styles of Dress and fancy Goods, adapted to the
season, cnibracing a variety in extent and rich-
ness unsurpasscd by any in the country.

Among these Goods may be found French

zfiil as before.

I cannot but feel that Mow-
ehue and his wife are in some strange
manner connected with the days of my
A regard for Alpoorah, for which

. . K. _. , ' ,' V ) , ‘ . . \ . ‘ . 3. _ . . _
1\[“5“i "L0 fl“ -D‘-’.l”‘4””".’/ I ”“‘Z’-"fa “W ‘hobo Dclanics, Ginglianis and (rll)gIlflll1Lfl\\l1S, Bdl- ,1 c,,m,m account, has grown up m my bo,

who a1'e afllicted with superfluous hair.
VF€7?c’\(’;'u];llCi‘,7{.——\VB hlipc Bodlgcrfis E1llipt.’s,l
X are c’ utc icr’s fine iizors, ’eii am .ack
Knives. Scissors and Slioars. P0mo1'oy’s,;
Cliapman’s, IIillman’s and Einerson’s Ra’/.or
Strops and Paste. Shaving Boxes, some very
fine with looking glasses in lid. Pocket Books
and Purses.
Fancy Articlcs.———Ivoi'_v \Vliistle.s;

l

W "X i zorine Muslins for Dresses.

zorines, both worsted iuid cotton ; Silks for -
I.)resses, and hlk Silk for Shawls, and one of the ;

largest assortiiioiits of Prints in the country.
Slazu 'Is'.—Silk, I)ilIlltl:'il~‘., Borage,Bal7.orine
DeLaine, Cashmere and worsted Shawls; to-
gether with a great variety of Ladies Cravats.
‘White Draw Goods. Swiss, Book

1

M

lto fresh life.
'-heart yearned toward her as I drew her
lfrom the rapids below. Had I not known
'it to be impossible I could have sworn
ull, Cambric, plaid, figured, striped and Bal-I
Also a very large‘

som. It seems not new, but like some
feeling nearly forgotten and new brought
And Weenora, how my

she was my sister. Ah! sister! Have I
sister 'l—brother—relatives? lhave thus

Beads‘ To V’; t -11 - S If a 1 Tel icco . - i. . .- . - - ' . . .
i Y ' 9 9‘ i ' ‘"1 “‘ " stock of Linen Cdilllnlc Handkerchiefs, some , {M lwcd alone, Wm, no object on whom to

Boxcs——-some with spring, a new article ; Steel
Tweezers; Toot.l1 Picks; Percussion Caps; ,
Hooks A’. Eyes; Needles, Pins, Victoria I)iu- '
per P-ins ; I-Iair Pins, somcornainentcd; Pock-

et Ink Staiids; Tl'iei'moiiieters; Silver, Steel.
and Giltlleacls; Court Plaistcr; Iiidcliblc Ink ; i

."

cry low priced.
Lzulics’ flats.-—Floi-once,English Straw,
Rolland, and Neapolitan Hats, with Ribbons,
Ruches and flowers.

Also, a great variety of Summer Goods for
Men and Boys wear, consisting in part of Drab

.sinooth channel of a brot.her’s love.

place my affections, warm, gushing as
they are, and longing to flow outin the
1
have lived an Indian till tired of forest’s,
and of wild beasts their inhabitants, I have

Sllkflnd1-3““‘1V'f"‘5f“"’S3 G"'““"“ S“l"“'1’-‘md do Etc Cl'('f0l‘l Cloth. Tweeds, Ganiln-oous, thrown off my disguise and souoht the
i ' ‘ ‘ -. 0

Ivory Tooth Picks; Linnea Collars; Segar
Cases; Steel Dress Buttons; .let Buttons;
Stccl Clasps for Bags; Tootli Powder; Bone
and Metal IolctRings; Iialidescopes, &c. ‘

Clocks-"‘\V° thillk “"3 Cm] Sm‘ "I" "Oth in to call and examine our stock, and we think any,

quality any price, as we have them from 75cts.
to 55$. [
Looking Glasses, Crockery and Glass \Vare.'
\Ve have a small assortment. which will be S0l( ,
at cost or less, to close the trade. Silver‘
Spoons, Sugar Tongs, Butter Knives, die. \Ve
intend keeping silver work of our own llltlllllfilc-j
turc on hand and at. the prices formerly charg-‘
ed. (N0 advance on account. of the Tariff.)
German Silver plated Spoons. Copper pla-,
ted, Britannia a.iid Iron Spoons. Sugar ’l‘ongs_
and Butter Knives. 1
Silver and Plated Coffin Plates always ready
at a few iuiuutcs warning, and the engraviiig is
warranted to cause no slnuiie, to the friends of
the deceased.
Clocks and \Vatclie.s repaired and w,,m,,,1-ed_
\Villiam A. Clai'k’s Matches by the gross or
dozen. Ainerica.n \Vax Tapers, a new article
of lVIat,cl1es—l'Vill lmrit some m'iuu.I.cs. Per-
fumed Diamond Fusees for lighting cigars._._
Every Smoker should carry a box.
Bu.H,ons.——I.’-1'oc.'idc, Silk, Lasting, IIorn, Jot,
Sporting. Gilt, Steel, Agate, Pearl, Paper, Tin,
\Vood, Plated, Bone, Ivory and all kinds of
buttons by the gross or retail. '
LEVI CLARK.
East side the Bridge adjoining the Dry Goods
Store of C. C. Betts, N orwalk.

N. B.

7 I ‘HE Subscriber having mostly" regained his

- h9«'Ililli and owing to seine other circum-
stances has again placed lnmsclfat the Watch
Repairing Business. From our success in for-

l

 

‘D

Brown Linens, Moleskiii, Fustiaus, Langup

Cords, striped, plaid mid plain Cotton Goods,

very cheap, and a very large assortment.
Ladies and gentleinen are respectfully invited

one wishing to purchase Dry Goods, or any
other goods usually kcptin a country store, can-
not fiiil to be suited.

New Canaan. April 27, 1846.

Plumbe N::t’nI DagI:cri:u|
AND
I’HOTOGR.APl~Il<31tS' FURNISHING

DEPOTS ;
A

\V.-XIIDED the Gold and Silver Medals,
Four First Preniiuiiis, and Two Highest
Honors, atthe National. the Massacliutetts, the
New York, and the Peiiusylvania Exliibitious,
respectively, for the most splendid Colored Da-

18

' guerreotypes, and best apparatus ever exhibited.
Portraits taken in exquisite style, without re- .

gard to weather,

Instruction given in the art.

A large assorment of Apparatus and Stock al-
ways on hand, at the lowest cash prices.

New York, 251 Broadway; Pliiladclphia, 136
Chestnut St. ; gleston, 75 Court, and 58 Hanover
Sts.; Baltimore, 20.3 Baltimore St.; \Vashington,
Pennsylvania Avenue ; 1)UlGl'SlJU1‘gi V"-, Me-
chanics’ Hall ; Cincinnati, Fourth and \Valnut,
mid 176 lVIain St. ; Saratoga Springs, Broadway;
Paris, 127 Vieille Rue du Temple; Liverpool,
32 Church St. 1y27.

PREIYIIUIVI VVIIITE LEAD.
HE subscriber offers for sale by the Ten,
or at retail :1 very superior article of \Vhito
Lead, warranted fully equal to the best English
Load, and superior to any otherlead maiiufactur-

ed in this country.
W. C. STREET.
Also a full assortment; of Paints end Oils at.

1nc'r_ years we think we "can, suit all who favor

"us \vi_t,;,_..tI1‘¢5_fi1' work. We intend togdo our work
Ggogz;-.' - fig. L. DISBROW.
I.‘ x . ;:.‘>,- ,' ‘.V_l.‘.,, V. . _ I

. /,7

 

 

the lowest; New York prices-.
June 1_4_ 1_84_6_._ .2 '

dwellings of the whites. There did I live
_a new life——l pursued knowledge, and
‘made myself well versed in the lore of
other days. I sought. amongst them that
which I found not—pleasure—happiness;
for such was their devotion to mammon,
land to the shrine of fashion and pleasure,
, that they found no time to think; and, dis-

Gang.-y’gusted with their hollow heartedncss and-

, pride, I returned again to the life I had (les-
lpised. But happy lcould not be. lcould
‘not new love one of the dark maidens of

’my own village, for I had ate of the tree,

of knowledge, and felt myself immeasura-

bly their superior. Again I set forth—my
steps came hither. Am I at last to find one
[to love? Wecnoral Ah! I feel it,shc is my
‘sister. But one day ago I asked hcrliaiid
—will it be given—do i wish itl The
fair girl I met yestcrday—slie is not my
sister—but can she love '! Oh! this is iii-
tolerable—I must——I will unravel this
mystery.’

When Otho returned to Mo\veliue’s
dwelling he found there thet \V0 Morleys.
The house, which was somewhat large and
commodius, and erected far more substan-
tially, and with much more regard to neat-
ness than Indian wigwams generally were,
stood but a few rods from the river on the
western bank, where the scenery is unusu-
ally striking and beautiful.

They had been seated but a shsrt time
before Alpoorahobserving that ‘the day
was too pleasant to-“be lost by keeping
witli‘_in doors,’ proposed a walk into the
gardcn—‘for,’ said she, ‘w,e have a garden,

, alilioiigh we”_l_i,i.:e‘,ig lrnijnble style.’ '-I_,‘l_i,e

"'n

 

 

spot to which she led Il'lE‘l'Yl
wortliv the name of garden.

 

OCTOB E R 1'4, I84-6..

/\/\/\/\_/\/\/\/\/\/\J\/\."\/\f\/\./\fx/\f\,/\/\r\/\/\/\/‘

at Two Dollars Per Annlun in Ailvanee.”~0l'fice on the ‘Dock, \‘|'est Side of the B.-idge_

./\.'\

 

r

VOLUME 29-NUMBER 41..

 

was not iin- pleasures in which I daily engaged to pull
It was filled upon the soul.

One approving smile, one

with thrifty vegetables and sweet flowers, tender word from him was prized by me

many of them of a rare order, wliich
been procured from the con
lasa present to his wife
‘And there were besides many wild flowers
. that gained new beauty by cultivation.
gthc centre was a large, but somewhat rude
;i1l‘l)Ol‘, and covering it a most. laxiiri-ant
vine, loaded with clusters of wild grapes.
,At one end of the garden was a grassy
lbnnk, shaded by several forest elms that
had been spared by the axe, and at the
foot, :1 small gurgling brook of the clearest
water wound along, till it emptied itselfiii
the Housatonic.

As Oilio, for a time, moiiopolized the
society of the young ladies, l\lorley soon
found an opportunity to converse with
Alpoorah.__,_ He took advantage of tliismo-
merit to ask her consent to his union with
Weenora.

She seemed somewhat surprised at the
qiicstion—but after a moment’s licsitancy
rephed——

‘I should be pleased with it, provided
you gain her consent, but it was no longer
age than yesterday that fitho made the
same request of Mowehiic.’

‘Otlio !’

‘.\Iy liushand referred him to me,but in-
timated his wish tha they sould be uni-
ted. I have not spoken to \Vccnora on
the subject, but she shall decide. I have
an influence over l\”lowclinc, and if she
wislies, it shall b: exercised in your favor.’

"l'lian'.< you, you have made me happy,‘
said Edward.

‘Perhaps no time could be fitter than this
for the decision,’ continued Alpoorah, ‘for
it is better that you and Ollie be both
present.’

They moved toward the bank wliitlicr
the rest of the company had preceeded
them. Here she informed her daughter
of the two proposiils,and requested her
to decide which of them, if either, she
would accept.

‘Oh! mother! motlier!’cried VVeenora,
and hid her face in Alpoornli’s bosom.

‘Nay, my daugliter, fear not to speak
your preference. This is a matter ofmuch
moment, and you alone can decide it.’

‘How can I mother 1’ said the blushing
girl, while the fund glance wliicli for an
instant she cast on Morley told more
plainly than words the decision which her
heart had already made. That glance was
not lost on Oiho, but his countenance, In-

In ,pen

I
l

l

0

bad i more highly than the costliest gem in my
st by Moweliue casket. i\ly spirit, so proud, so cold and
and dapgliter. haughty to others, bcnt before his like the

tender reed, and that consciousness of su-
'ority which forever intruded itself
upon me wnen I mingled with the world,
was clianr_ie.l to huniility wlien I convcrsed
alone with him. And lie——olil he was
worthy of the deep devotion which my
heart gave him. Ay—woriliy the devo-
tion ofniany hearts purer by far than mine,
and which would have known better how
to have prized the incstimablc boon of his
love. In the excess of my passion-—0f my
devotion to him, I never found spot or
blemish in his cliaractcr; nor have I yet
observed a stain, though years, many long,
long years have passed since then, and re-
leiitless time has sobcred the love that
still is cherished in my bosom, and though
memory has not failed to dwell by day
upon his image, and to restore him to me
in dreams by night.

‘On the morning of my eigliteentli birth
day-—liow well I remember the time-it
was as bright a ‘day was ever seen in any
climate li e ours, but it was not more joy-
ous than my licart on that morning, or
brighter than its hopes. But how soon
was that joy dispelled. My father sent.
for me to visit him in his study. I know
not why, but I shuddcrcd as I started to
obey the summons—it was so unusual a
circumstance that I felt a presentiment of
sonic evil creeping over me. But I found
him sitting alone, appaaeriily in excellent
spirits, for he drew me toward him, and
playfully kissed me, and complimented me
on my beauty, saying that I reminded him
ofiny mother when he married her. He
then went on to say, in a serious tone, that

he felt anxious to see me well settled in
life, as years were growing on his head,
and he might not long be spared to pro-
tect me. lsobbed on his bosom at the
thought of his leaving me, for uiikindly as
I treated him afterward, he was very dear
to me. He then informed me that he had
made choice of one for my husband of
whom I could not but approve—that the
gentleman had applied for my hand, which
was cordially acceded to on his part, and
as be supposed his will was mine, he had,
even before consulting me, ventured to
promise as much for himself. The thought
that he had selected another than the one
who already possessed my love ncveronce

dian-like, changed not.

‘If you will listen to me awhile I will,
tell you briefly my history,’ said Alpoo-l
rub, ‘my life has been an eventful one, and
the story might have some influence upon
VVeenora's decision. I have long waited
for an opportunity to relate it to her, but
never found one so favorable as this.’

All united in a request to hear her story,
and after reflecting a few moments, she
thus began.

‘I was born in England, of wealthy pa-
rents, and till my eighteenth year had eve-
ry desire of my heart gratified. My moth-
er dged when l was a few months old, and
I was left to the care of a sister of hers,
who, from mistaken kindness, indulged me
in every wish, while she neglected to instil
into my mind these principles which
alone can effectually exclude evil or useless
inclinations. She took every pains with
my mental, but entirely passed by my
moral education. The result was I grew
up perfect in those accomplishments which
adorn society, and especially our sex, but
without any fixed principle—-haughty in
spirit, considering my own will as law,
and all about me of equal or oflower rank,
only as subjects of my control. In my ar-
rogance I looked around upon those who
constituted the circle in which I moved,
and proudly congratulated myself that I
was superior to them all. My father, en
grossed with public as well as private
cares, supplied me plentifully with gold;
convinced doubtless that no farther troub
le was necessary to fit me for the life of
case and splendor which I afterward learn-
ed he designed me to enjoy.

‘When I was sixteen my father brought
a young man into our family, who, though
of noble parents, was a younger son, and
without a patrimony. He was a very dis-
tant relative of my mother’s, and it was
designed that he should qualify himself
for the profession of law, with a view to
engage in the aflairs of State. At the
,time he came to reside with us he was
‘about four years older th n myself, and
being ofa commanding and preposscssing
,appearaiicc, and of refined and polished
lmanncrs withal, I was accustomed to re-
lgard him as a sort of cliaperon, and gene-
'rally selected him as my gallant whenever,
,I went abroad. I soon began to be proud
aof my very populal cousin, for sol usually
,called him, though the relationship was
,morc distant——I received his attentions

with much real satisfaction, but" appeared
!t0 claim them as a matter of right. Thus,
lwe were in constant companionship, as _all’
jtlie time he could redeem from his studies
‘was devoted to attending upon me-
‘The necessary result of this was that
iwe soon began to regard each other with
a warmer feeling than thatof mere friend-
.ship. At the commencement of our inter-
lcourse his manly and upright character
had involuntarily commanded my respect;
this quickly ripened into esteem—and ere
many months had passed, his really noble
and generous disposition had attached me
so strongly to him that I found my. very
being was wrapped up in him. The prais-
cs——-the flatterics of the world began to

2

,SOLll1_(I.__(I,uI‘l’3_X_I,d dead to t_he_ e_ar,_ and _thc _

‘was all to me, nay,

crossed my mind, for though my father had
never spoken to me on the subject, I sup-
posed he was well aware of our attachment.

I therefore answered that to obey his will
would be my highest pleasure. Judge
then of my dismay when he informed me
that Sir William Halbert wished to have
the nuptials immediately solemnized.

‘Had not my heart been pre-oucupied
by my affection for Henry Etliland, I
should not, probably, have been disposed
to reject a proposal at once so favorable
and unexpected. Sir VVilliam was a gen-
tleman some ten years older than myself
it is true, but his affable and polished char-
acter, added to his rank and fortune more
than counterbalanced this objection. His
large estate was contiguous to my father’s,
and he had for many years bcenafrequent
and welcome visitor at our mansion. But
become his wife I could not, for though no
formal engagement had taken place be-
tween my cousin and myself, I felt that
my faith was another’s, and that it would
be rank injustice both to Henry and Sir
VVilliam for me to wed the later, while
I could not have given him my heart. But
I dreaded the consequences of a refusal on
my part, as my father, with all his kind-
ness and affection for me, was a stern man,
and not accustomed to have his will dispu-
ted.

‘I threw mysclfon my knees before him,
and in tha humblest accents besought him
not to force me into a marriage '.'.'l.':i.-ii
could not but end in misery and shame.
I told him I had mist-sken his meaaing—I
had never loved Sir \Villiam, had never
been even intimate with him; but glzhat
there was one who already had a claim
upon my heart, one to whom there could
be no objection but his want of fortune,
and mine, as I was an only child, would
be sufficient for both. My father? regar-
ded me at first with astonishirient, then in
anger and resentment. I left him to re-
cover from his disappointment, and hurry.

-ing to my own chamber, gave free vent to

my feelings, and sought relief in tears-
‘But mine was not a spirit to be crashed
at once. Ere l was aware I found myrelf
devising methods of escaping from the
terrible‘ fate that awaited me. A life of
poverty, of obscurity with the one who
death itself sccmcd
preferable to a union with a man I loved
not. My heated fancy was fruitful in ex-
pedient, and ere'long I had resolved ‘:1 plan,
which, though it promised and afforded
comparative happiness for a brief season,
has since been ‘a poisoned arrow’ to my
breast. After remaining a day or two in
my room, on pretence of illness, I appear
ed before my father, and with much appa-
rent humility implored a pardon for my
conduct, and prouiiscd cheerfully to ac-
quiesce in his decision. Alas, nothing Was
farther from my intentio_!1S. He ‘}PPe‘“"3‘l
overjoyed at the Cll:lDg.C._IIl myfecliugs, and
commended me for my obedience, which
was the more grateful to him, he said, be-
cause he saw it, had cost me a struggle,
and could not but arise from the depth of
my filial zilfcciioii. Oh! how his words
tortured incl My heart niisgave me for a
moment,_and I inwardly sliuddcred at my

 

T

ever, till this sad mistake, been all kindness
and love. _ '

‘That very evening Henry rétiirned home.-
He had beed absent a few weeks on a jour-
ney, and of course was ignorat of all that
had transpired since his departure. Then
began the severest trial I had ever experi-
enced. ‘I was about to practice deception
with him who I knew could read my very
souL ’
al had occured, and we met as lovers who
have been separated should meet.
ject was to strengthen, if:possible, the in-
fluence which I already possessed off
him. To lull suspicion, however,»I took
care that my father should see us togeth-

tlirew off in a measure my softness of man-
ner, treating Henry with coldness and re-‘
spect. , _

‘But time would not stay its progress‘,-

William. At last, therefore, I was obliged
to disclose to Henry the terrible circum-
stances. It was done in a few brief but
dreadful words, for my heart was so full I
could scarcely find utterance; Oh! how
I trembled lest he should hate me, when
he found I had actually consented to Wed
Sir William; but gazing at me a moment,
with a look of mingled grief and astonish-
ment, he clasped me sobbing and weeping‘
to his bosom. Oh! the bliss,- yet agony
of that short embrace‘. It was the first, it}

moment of raptui'e,yet of fearful apprelieii-
sion. By that actl knew he loved me with
all the depths of affection which stern and
lofty natures like his alone can feel, yet
trembled lest that love should be lost to me
forever.

0 osin m fatherswislies. Knowi’i'i‘crer'i-'
PF 9 Y a .
trcaiy to be useless, he thought not of
wronging my father—bis benefactor-—bv

l was debesed enough to lead him insen-
sibly into ingratitude. It was my love-—
my burning, indomitable love that urged
ior to bestow it on a creature, that would
not let me rest till I had instilled poison
into that noble spirit, and caused him who’
had given me being to be brought in an-'
guish to the grave.

‘But I mast hasten on. Fromtliat tiimé’
Ilet pass no opportunity of ‘wet g upon’
the mind of Henry, in order to stifle his‘
scruples, and to fret away his deéf: and
honorable principles, till he sho'uI7d°’ ”'_a's'ent-
to an elopemeiit and private mai‘ri'a§‘o.——-“
Alas ! too welll succeeded—but so gradu’-‘
ally did my conversation tend to this point,
that, absorbed in grief as he wan, he had
no suspicion of my object. His own up—"
rightness of disposition was favorable to‘
this, for bad he discovered my purpose he
would have hated and despised me. One‘
day—the preceding one to that appoinred
for the nuptials—wiih my head resting on-
his bosom, I had been artfully cont‘i'a‘sti'iig
the hopelessness of our situation with the‘

away from all the cares and vexations o
society, with none to claim our love, and
attention but the heart's idol. Suddenly’
he sprang up,joy beaming in his counten-
ance, as if new light, the light of hope’,-bade
struck him. ‘And why not,’ said be, ‘why
may we not seek happiness away, far, far
away from those who would forever mar
it ? Say, Mary, dearest, shall we not fly on
the wings of love, or shall we remain here
to reap but the bitterness of despair 'I’ Ol)_~‘.'-
with what eagerness did my ear drink in‘
those words. My frame’ trembled, the
happiness was too great, and I sank down
at his feet, unable longer to support my-‘
self. He ‘fgentiy raised me, and fondly’
kissing "my forehead, continued,

“ ‘Nay; love, “pardon me. I see the‘
itl10nght._\.va.s:'.eivto you. I: never enter--
Ied your pure heart, and I struck upon it-5
jso suddrmly that it shocked you. But it
2-only adds fuel to my love. And must I
then see you anothers wife?’

EANO, Henry——I am yours, yours forev.
er ‘'

4:“ We fled—-were married—-and, with
what money I had about me, procured a
passage forlthis land, wildernessfiis it then
lwas. Arrived here our money was soon-
'spcnt, and I parted with the few jewels of"
‘small value that I brought with me, to pro-
,cure the necessary sustenance-—for so hur-
ried had been our flight, that we had never:
,once thought of the means ofsubsistence-,ua:'—

til at last. the thought forced itself uporrnsz.

VVeeks passed, and want began to stare us:
'in the face; and my dear Henry’s cheek
'grew pale, and his flesh wasted away; and’
{as he came back night after night to our

littlejoom, from his vain search for em-
:ployment,l observed that his eye grew
lsunkcn, and at times flzished-with a.strange'
light ; and a wasting cough seized hold on-
hiin, and I knew that care, _
who had beguiled him into this unnaturaif
exile, was cerroding his very heart. And:
day by day he grew weaker, and a hectic‘
flush settled on his cheek, and at last he-
was too weak to rise from his bed, buttossv
ed about in restless anguish ; while’ at
times he was delirious, and {talked of the
scenes we had left, and once, staring wild-
ly at me as though he R would pierce me,
tbrougli,hc spoke the words'—‘your father.-"
Oh l how that word sounded in my ears!
——and howl longed to die before Henry,
lest in his last moments he should despise
me for my ingrati.tade to my .,fo._rsa°.-lcen pat.-
cnf. -

‘I-Io died ;
piights did Iyyatchaat his

and for twoloqg days anck
lg,cdside,,’and bathe.
” - .2‘

.‘:.;.v

wickedness in deceiving a parent who had ‘

I received him as if nething"unusu-° 

My ob--
er as little as possible, and in his presence...

and the day was fast approaching when I i

had promised to become the bride of Sir’,

miwlit ercliance be the last. It was 
:2 1 P I

‘As Iliad expected, he did not speak’ of H

urging me to a clandestine marriage.-" But”

me on-—love, of which I robbed my Cree. 

happiness that was to be found in seclusion, _

;\‘

care for me, »

 

-.U

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