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ys^" VOL. XMVI. IliANCASTER, PA., WEDNESDAY, EEBRUARI ^, 1862. J. A. HEBSTAND, J. F. HUBKE, F. HECKEET, mSUt TKl WOMOW HI£STA3n>, HUBEB & HEGSEBT, omoi XV voxTK QTxmr btur. THE EXAMINER & HEBALI> is PtliHsJud WMklg. ct Ttoo HaOars a Year. ADVERTJSBESNTS willbe Jnsaiiad kttlie raUof «I OOi>M«iiui^ortaUnM, for tkm IniK- tlottf orleu; ud35o«nUper8qami«forHck«dllUoiiAl Insertion.. AdTectlsuiiinUexoMdlss 10 linu-will bveliugode c»ts p«r lin. for the Ut inB«rtion, and 8 euiU par line or uwlL anbeeqaont Ineanion. BoeinMe AdTertteemenU ineertod by th. qnirtw: kalf yaar or yaar, will ko ckargad aa followa; zmmlla.tmmlhs. llnotiMa OnaOinara «3 00 «S 00 « 8 00 Two " 6 00 8 00 UOO V oolnmn 10 00 18 00 SSOO l? " 18 00 25 00 « 00 1 . SOOO 68 00 80 00 BnsnreSS HOTICSS in«an«d katora Marriagaa and Deaths, donble tka regalar rates. Q-ill adTortleing accounts ara conslderod oollacla- blo at Ike eiplratlon of kalf tko period oontracted for. Transient adTartlsementfi. oabh AT POET BOYAL. 1861. BT JOHN G. TTniTTTBH. The tent-lights glimmer on the land, Tbo ship-lights on the sea; Tho night-wiDd smooths with drifting aand Our traclc on lone Tybee. At last our grating kools outslide, Oor good boats forward swing; And while we ride the land-locked lido. Our negroes row and aing. For dear tbe boodman holda hia gifts or music and of aoDg: Tho gold that kindly Nature sifta Among hia sands of wrong; The power to make his toiling days And poor bome-comforts ploase; Tho quaint relief of mirth that playa With sorrow'a minor keys. Another glow than sunset's fira Haa filled the West with light. Where field aud garner, ham and byre Are blazing through the night. The land is Wild with fear and hato. The rout mns mad and fast j From hand to hand, from gate to gate, The flaming brand is pasaed. The Inrid glow falla strong across Dark faces broad with smiles; Not thoira tho terror, hato, and loas That fire yon blazing pilea. With oar-strokes timing to their song, Thoy weave in simple lays The pathoa of remembered wrong, The hope of better days,— Tbo triumph-noto that Miriam sung, Tho joy of uncaged birds: eofteniog with Afric's mellow tongue Tbeir broken Saxon words. sona OF THE NSQEO EOATUEK. Oh, praise an* tanks! Do Lord he como To set du people freo : An'maSfn tink it day ob doom, An- wo ob jubilee. Do Lord dat heap de Hed Sea waves, Ho jus' as 'trong as den; He say do word: wo iaa' uigbt alavea ; To-day, de Lord's freemen. Do y.im will grow, de cotton blow. We'll bab de rice an' coru : Oh, nehber you fear, if nebber you hoar Do driver blow his hom! Ole massa on he trobbels gone j Ho leab de land behind: De Lord's breffblow him furder on, Liko corn-shuck in de wind. We own do hoe, wo own de plough, Wc own de hands dat hold; We sell de pig, we sell de sow. Bat nebber chile bo sold. De yam will grow, de cotton blow. We'll hab do rice an' eorn; Oh, nebber you fear, if nebber you hear De driver blow bis hom ! Wo prny do Lord : he gih us signs Dal somo day we be freo; De Norf-wind tell it to do pines, De wild-duck to de sea; We tink it when de church-bell ring, Wo dream it in de dream ; De rice-bird mean it when he sing, De eagle when he scream. De yam will grow, de cotton blow, Wo'll hab de rice an* cora : Oh, nebber you fear, if nebber you hear De driver blow his hom! We know de promise nebber fail. An' nebber lie do word; So, like de 'postlcs in de jail, We waited for do Lord : An* now he open ehery door, An' trow away de koy ; He tink we Inb him so before, We lub him better free. De yam will grow, de ootton blow, 'He'll gib do rice an* com: So nebber you fear, if nebber you hear Do driver blow his hom ! So sing our dusky gondoliers; And with a secret pain, And smiles tbat seom akin to tears, Wo bear tbo wild refrain. Wo daro not share the negro's tmst. Nor yet hia hope deny j Wo only know that God is juat. And every wrong sball die. Rude seems tho song; each swarthy face, Flame-lighted, rader still: Wo start to thiuk that hapless race Must shape our good or ill j That laws of changeless justico bind Oppressor with oppressed; And, close as sin and sufiering joinod. Wo march to Fato abreast Sing on, poor hearta! your chant ahall be Onr sign of blight or bloom,— Tho Vola-aong of Liberty, Or death-rune of our doom 1 The man tbat langhs ia a doctor without a aiploma. His face does more good in a sick room than a bnshel of poffders or a gallon of bitter draughts. People are alwaya glad to see him. Their hands inatiinctively go half way out to meet bis grasp, while they tam involnntarily from the clammy tonch of the dyspeptic, who speaks in the groaning key.— He laughs you out of yonr faults, while you never know what a pleasant world you are living in, nntil he points ont the sunny streaks on its pathway. Wheu a person is very ill, he says " Qod has afflicted me;" but if be feela very happy, and very well, how rarely does he say "God has made me happy." How prone are we to tbinkQodisat burials, butnot at bridals; how prone to think God is in all that is dark, sepulchral and gloomy, but not in the midst of all tbat'is bright, giving it greater brightness and in all that is joyful adding to its intensity and its purily. Perbaps gentlemen are rarer personages thau some of us tbink. Wbioh ot us oan point to mauy such in his circle ? Men wbose aims are generous, whose truth is constant, and not only constant in kind, but elevated in degree, whoae want of meanness make them aimple, who cau look the world honestly in the face, with an eqnal manly sympathy for tho great and small t Wo all know a himdred whose ooats are well made, and a score whohave ex¬ cellent manners, and one or two happy beings who are wbat they call in the Inner circle, and have ahot into the verj oentre and hull's eye of fashion; but ot gentlemen, how manyf Let ns take a little scrap of paper and eaoh make ont hia list." Living was oheap enough in olden time. Socrates was supposed to have lived npon an income of seventy-live dollars; hut he lived worse than a slave. His ooat waa shabby, and he wore tho eamo garment wmter and aum¬ mer ; he went barefooted; his ohief food was bread and water; and aa he engaged in no hufiiness to mend his estatea or inoome, it ia not wonderful that his wife scolded. Hemes, thenes, hia siater and their mother, paid for their board $105 a year, and provided the house into the bargain. TEE EABL ABD,JB8 SECHEIABT. CH.^PTERI. The ann waa ahining brightly through the lofty arohed wlsdowi of a large, old&ahloned llbni7 in one of thoie anoient baronial nan. aioiu that are to be met vith In almost every partof Bngland. It w«a a handaomey bat not a oheetfolToom. The celling w»a gorgeously painted, bat ita colora was mnoh subdued by time; the walls, of whioh but little oonld be seen between the olosely-iangad hook-oases^ seemed to be oovered with faded tapestry, and allthe fumltoie waa of maaaive carved oak. The heavy ohaira and aettees were cushioned with velvet that had once been crimson, bnt now waa more like sober brown; and the floor was oovered witha rich carpetassoftas velvet to the tread, bnt dark and dingy to look aU— In short, everything inthat spaoions apart¬ ment wore an all of departed gplendoi that was mebmoholr to behold: Two peisona were sitting there engaged in some Uteraiy pnisnit, the one a gentleman of abont forty-five yeara, or somewhat more, per¬ haps; and the other a young man, whose pallid oheeks and thoughtful brow told of days given up to studious oocupatiOD. His features were of elasaic beanty,his eyes large, black, and Instrons, hia high white forehead waa orowned with a dense maaa of glossy hair, almost blaok and slightly cttrling,while a mona- taohe ofthe same hue ornamented his npper lip without concealing the well-formed month, which gave a rather proud expression to a ooimtenanoe stamped with the marks of a fine intelleot. He waa seated at atable oovered with booka and papers, and waa writing from the dictation ofhis superior, who oocupied a large fautenil in front of the fire, and held in hia left hand a note-book, to which he ocoa¬ sionally referred. Be waa a fine-looking man, not past the prime of life as regarded age, bat apparently suffering from the effects bf reoent Illness, for hia right arm hung powerless by hia aide as if paralysed, whioh, indeed, was the case, and it waa owing to this affliotion he had been obliged, for some months past, to em¬ ploy an amanuensis. After a while he closed his note-book, and aaid— " Mr. Irvine, I shall now release yon for to¬ day. I have observed that you are not look¬ ing well; yon want more air and exercise. I fear I have exacted too mnoh from yoo." "No, Indeed, my lord, lam not ill, I asaure yon; and my work is too interesting to be irksome." Something approaching to a smile flitted across the pale, gravo face of the eail, like a faint gleam of lighfaiing, and then was gone, aa he replied— " I am not looking for flattery, Mr. Irvine. Tonr Bervioes are valnable to me, and it is for my own eake as well aa yours that Ido not wlah to overtask your energiea. I therefore release yon for to-day, and I shall be glad if yon will dine with me at seven o'olock." It was the first time thatLord Avondale had invited Mr. Irvine to dine at bis table, and the latter coloring with surprise, acknowledged tbe honor with a respectful inolination of the head—" Thank yon, my lord." But altbongh he oonld not feel otherwise than gratified by suoh a mark of diatinction, he would, in point of faot, ratber have spent bis evening in a difi'erent manner, especially as the mtercourse between himself and his patron had never assumed the slightest shade ol familiarity, for Lord Avondale waa a man of reserved manners and retired habits—almoat a recluse; his whole time, and as it appeared, all his thougbta being devoted to the compil¬ ation of a voluminioua work on the arta and sciences of past ages. He was a single man, and had lived for many years quite secluded from the world, although be was rioh aud tbe owner of a noble domain. It was generally believed that some esrly sorrow had cast a ahadow over hia existence, and giving bim that distaste for sooiety which oould hardly be natnral to one whose highly- cultivated mind, refined taates, and elegant manners were eminently calculated to adorn the sphere in whioh he was bom to move.— But all was mere conjecture, as nobody bad ever been admitted to his confidence, nor did his intimacies extend beyond an occasional visit of ceremony to one or two other mag¬ nates of tbe oonntry. It was nearly six months sinoe a alight at¬ taok of paralyaia had deprived him oflbe use of hia right arm aud rendered him for a while inoapable of going on with the important work to which he had devoted aU his brilliant tal¬ ents; bnt as soon aa he was suffioiently le- oovered to take it up again, he made np his mind ratber reluctantly, to engage an assist¬ ant, and not wishing to have any oue abont him who was known in the oonntiy, he re¬ plied to an advertisement in the Tintes, and the resnlt was that Mr. Irvine came from Lon- and took up his abode in Grever Caslle. Kennith Irvine was of an imaginative tnm of mind and freqnently indulged in specula¬ tion on the probable or possible canses of Lord Avondale's solitary life and the settled melaucholy that characterized not only his fine features, bnt the toue of his voice and bia whole demeanor.,. Little, however, did the yonng seoretary suspect that be was himself the subject of musings eqnally profound on tbe part of tbe noble earl, neither was he conscious of being regarded in any otber light than that of a use¬ ful employee. He was, therefore, a little sur¬ prised at the anxiety now expressed by Lord Avondale respecting his healtb, bnt be as¬ cribed it rathei to the fear of an interruption to the work than to any personal regard for himself, and thonght no more ahont it. As soon as he had left the room, the earl leaned back in his chair, and sighed deeply. "I feel a strange interest in that yonng man," he said to himself. "Ifit were bu^ possible to attaoh him to me by purer ties than thoae of mere self-intereat, he might help fill the dreary void in my heart. But I suppoae he ia like the rest of the world, and wby should I expect it to bo otharwiao.or wby deaire it? Sinoe I have bome my burden for twenty yeara, I cau aurely bear it to the end. It ia the ouly atouemeut I can make for many errora, and I ought not to abrink from it." While Lord Avondale was thus mediating, the young man had taken his hat and sallied forth tbrough the park into the road whioh led to the Utile vlllageof Wursley. Kenneth exchanged greetings wilh several of tbemslios aa ha passed on hastily towards the chnrch, a arnall edifice of gray slone, seem¬ ingly of great antiquity, the mouldering walls being covered with ivy lhat must have been the growth of centnries. At a liltle distance from the church alood the parsonage-bonae, a very humble dwelUng, but not a comforllese one; for the vioar, thongh poor, had eaoaped tbe naual lot of his fraternity, ao many of whom are bowed down beneath the weight of their olive branches. Mr. Sample who had boen a widower for aome yeara, had only one ohild, a danghter, now aeventeen years of age, and this faot might have something to do wilh Mr. Irvine's freqnent visits to the vicarage, for which he generally found a planaible pretext in request, ing the aid of the leamed minisler in transla¬ ting eome scrap of Greek or Hebrew for the work he was engaged upon. A bright blosaom was Lilian Semple. Bom and reared in her .village home, she knew nothing of the great world beyond it; but, happy in her ignorance of the pomps and van¬ ities that create so muoh discomfort aa weU as false enjoyment, her heart was free from care, and her si^rit rejoiced in aU tbat was gladsome around her. A new light, however, bad lately shone npon her path that threw aU else inlo the shade. Not that ehe was lees happy, but her happiness had assumed a new character; it waa less associated with her simple daily avooatiooB and pleasnies than with a vision¬ ary futute that was all couletir de rose. Irvine bad told her thathe loved her; he had sketched ont • brilliant prospect of for- , tune inths dlstaaoe,'which abe, inezpeilenoed asshe wasin the wayaof the world, looked npon aa certain tobe realised. All this was obvious to the worthy pastor, who pretty we'll guessed how mattera stood, and would rather baveseen.hlsLUy—asshe waa usnally called—inoUnlng her ear to the snit of yonng Hardy, tbe miUer'a son, who was wen to do In the world, and made no se¬ oret of his Bttaohment lo the parson's lovely danghter. Lilian was iu the garden gathering a few fiowers to adom the only aitting-room the parsonage-house oonld boast, when Irvine pushed open the green gate, and in a moment was hy her side. "I am so glad toflnd yon alone.dearLUian, for I have bnt a few minntes to stay with you to-day." " Only a few minntes, Mr. Irvine f I thonght yon promised to spend the wbole evening wilh us." " I did so, bnt it is impossible. Why do you oaU me ' Mr. Irvine,' LiUan f U you do, I shall go hack to ' Miss Semple.'" "Oh, no—don't do that—I wUl always lay 'Kenneth'in fntnre; hnt why can yon not stay ?" "Because Lord Avondale has aaked me to dine with him, and of conrse I must, although I would rather have come here as lintended." " Then yoo are a very foolish yonng man," said Mr. Sample, who at this moment came out of the honse, and heard Irvine's last words, "a very foolish yonng man, indeed— for, from what I know of his lordship, I shonid say this is a mark of favor almost unprece¬ dented, and I thhik I may fairly congratulate you npon snch an evident proof of the high place you must have gained in his estimation." "I believe you are right, sir," said Irvine, as be shook hauds wilh the good clergyman; " bnt I am no philosopher, yon see, and am apt to feel diaappointed at the loss of an anti¬ oipated pleasnre, whatever may be the advan¬ tage offered in exchange. Besides, to confess the truth, I oannot help standing in awe of a tetea-tete dinner with Lord Avondale; how¬ ever, I snppoae I shall get throngh withit, and, at any rate, it will give me an opportunity of forming some idea of his social qaalitles, whioh twenty years of library experience would not do." "I am doubtful abont that," Mr. Semple repUed. " I have dined twice with his lord¬ ship witbin tbe last five yeara, bnt on neither occasion did I obtain any farther insight inlo his charaoter than I possessed before, nor was I on any more intimate terms with him after- waids than if no such thing had happeued.— However, il may be different wilh yon, and considering your relative positions, this invi¬ tation certainly shows a disposition in yonr favor that cannot be otherwise then beneficial to you." While tbis conversation was proceeding, LiUan went on outting her Sowers, but lislen¬ ing attentively to every word; hut there was not much more said on the snbject, for, as tbe vicar did not mauifest any signs of au inten¬ tion to leave the yonng people to themselves, Mr. Irvine very soon took bis leave. CHAPTER II. The dinner proved a less formidable afiair than the yonng Seoretary had expected. Tbe subject of conversation was geueral literature, a wide field wherein he felt qnite at homo, and it was evident tbal Lord Avondale waa pleased both witb the extent of bis informa¬ tion and tbe liberality of his views. After the deasert waa placed on the table, and the servants bad withdrawn, the noble hoat, having filled hia own glass, and puahed the decanter towards Irvine, aaked him where he waa educated, and whether he had boen brought np for any particular profeaaion. It was tbe first lime he had asked auy ques¬ tions bearing upon the yonng man's bislory, and tbey were not very easy questions to answer, as tbere were many points in it he did not wish to make known, and being thus taken by surprise had no time to consider how mnch he should tell, or how much to leave unlold. A few moments' consideration made him deoide to communicate aa Uttle as possible witbout seeming lo elude inquries tbal, he was conaoions. Lord Avondale wonld never have troubled himaelf to make of any one he waa wbolly indifierent about. He therefore briefly stated tbat, being left an orphan at an early age, ho was brougbt up by a distant re¬ lation at Bdinburg, a single man, of good properly, who had always expressed an inten¬ tion lo make bim bis heir, and had sent him to the Univeraity at Aberdeen, wilh a view of filling him either for tbe bar or tbe medical profession ; bul before he had been the fuU term at college, his protector died snddenly withont a will—at least, tbere was no wilj found—and aU he had posaeased went to rela. lives, who made out a belter claim in law than hia own, so that he was left qnite desti¬ tute. " Have you any reaaon to doubt hia inten¬ tion of making a wiU in yonr favor !" " None whatever, my lord. I had always been treated as his son, and am quite snre he meant to leave the whole of hia property to me, uor do I believe that he was a man to put off to the lasl momeni the settlements of his affairs." " You mean to say yon believe there was a will and that il has beeu oonoealed or des¬ troyed f" " I do, my lord; but I was helpless in tbe matter. I had no doonments to sapport my pretentions, and was thrown eniirely ou my own resources. Not baving the meaus of re¬ maining at tbe University, I went to London, and obtained au engagement as assistant in a aohool, but I found that kind of life so unsuit¬ ed to me that I determined to try for something better, and my very first atlempt was happily successful." " You are aatiafied, then, with your present employment ?" ¦'Perfeotly ao, sir." " Have yon auy near relations, Mr. Irvine 1" " Not any, my lord, tbal I know of." "If I am not miatakeu, yon frequently visit tbe vicarage at Wursley. Do you go there witb any idea of forming suoh liea f" The yonng man colored deeply, and his lips quivered a little, as he repUed without hesitation— " Yes, my lord, I do." Not another word waa said for some min¬ utes, and wben Lord Avondale agam spoke it was on qnile a different snbject. Irvme oonld not sleep that night for Ihmk- ihg of this remarkable episode of hia life.— Tbe last thing in tbe world he wonld have dreamed of, perbaps, waa that hia reserved^ unbending patron sbouid bestow a thonght on his affairs, especially as oonoemed his heart's affeotions. Did it anger good or ill! Tbe next moming had passed aa nsnal, and Irvine had dined at two o'olock, as waa his ordinary castom, aud retnmed . to tbe library to resume his labors ; but he had scarcely dipped his pen in the ink, when a servant eutered the room, and said a woman was in the hall who desired to see Mr. Irvine immediately. " You should have told her lhat I am en¬ gaged," said Mr. Irvine, looking very muoh annoyed. " I did, Mr. Irvine ; but she Bays she must Bee yon. She speaks like a Scotchwoman." " Then bo so good as to ask her name and busineas, and teU her to come early in the morning.'* The man bowed and left the mom. " Pray go now, Mr. Irvme, if yon wish to do BO," said Lord Avondale, with a sUght degree of irrilaiion in his tone. " I think, my lord, it can Boaroely be of anffl- oient importance, and I am Borry yon should be troubled by any auoh vexatious intermp- lion." Lord Avondale made no reply, bnt sat with his eyes fixed on his note-hook, looking any¬ thing bnt pleased, so that Irvine fett eztiems- ly uncomfortable until the man retnmed. "WoUKobeitt" "She aayaJ! evening. Hi. II the annonnceil when to his echoed by Loii. seat, and gaz h-^ NO. 11. ib»,iigoiia«ff tt.Sootland this (yine; aiot innst B'ee yon first.— She wUl not t^jll me what she wants, bnt her namo, sbe sayi, is Oiace MaoDoyle." " Giaoe ICat^ Poyle I" lepeated onr hero, as if 'ient was unwelcome to hiaeais; Igieat snipilse, the name was i Avondale, who rose from hla bg wildly on the young man, who also aioB^ exolaimed in a loud voice— " Grace MaeDoyle I Where does she come from? Whal'haveyon to do withber?" " Not jhnohjl my lord. I believe she was my nurse—but I have only her own Btatement for it, and anapeot I have very little lo thank hei foi." " Where d(j|Bfl she say she" nursed you— was it in the Isle of Bute ?" " Yes, my lord—at Eothsay," lopUed Irvine, wbose aatonisjiment was every moment in¬ creaaing, for Ljird Avondale now tnmed lo the setvaut, and ijfUd, in a hnnied, agitated man¬ ner— ji " Bring tbe ivoman here inatantly—I muat see her myael: jl Oh, if thia shonid be " "What ia it, my lord?" aaid Irvine, ap. preaching nea rei to him. " Why does the name of this ifoman agitate you thua ?" " Ask me ni>thing, Iivme, tiU I have con- fionted hei. iYon know not—oh, yon oannot know the agoijy I am suffering I" The sonnd ojF footsteps now made him tum his eyea eageijly towaid the doot, whioh waa lathei abrapll{r opened by the same man that biongbt the iJiessage, who nshuied in.a taU, gaunt female, jinveloped in a large, coarse, gray | cloak, with a ijood whioh, heing thrown back, gave a fnll view of her featttres. The momenjl her eyes met those of Lord Avondale, she'uttered a fatal ory, and hesita¬ tingly drew t^je hood over het face; but he had recognize^iher, and as sbe stood trembling with fear, he aaid, sternly— " I need not'ask if yon rememeber me, for I see that yon d;^" " I dinna ken, my laird—I bae nae sic gude memory. Wns your lordship aye in bonnie Dundee ?" "It isuselafs lo trifle with me, woman- yon wUl gain!nothing by subterfuge. Yon knew me at B(i(hsay as Captain Douglas." The woman!thus addressed waa evidently much frightenjid; stiU she hesitated and Beam¬ ed about to dwy any recoUeotion of the oir- cnmatanoe aUijded to, when Lotd Avondale Btopped het ijy exclahning, in a voioe of tbuudet— " If yon attiimpt to deoeive me, yon must look fot no mtjroy at my hands. Answor at once, and withont evasion—is this yonng man my son ?" ; Irvine was electrified. He absolutely gasped for breath, audi listened for the answer as if Ufe or death lijnng upon the next words that were to meet jfls ear. Bnt Inatead of reply¬ ing to the astoj|nding qnestion jnst pnt to her, the woman felj' on her knees aud began to im- ploiepity andjbigiveneas, wilnging her hands, and proleatinjj that she never meant harm either to his birdship or to the young gentle¬ man himself. < Taking no t^eed of this, the earl again de¬ manded, wilhja more threatening aspect than before— " Woman, \i IhiTmy son ?" His tono, h^B looks, tertifled her into the admissiou that "lhe yonng geutlemau was Captain DongljfB' baim." " And I hopji yonr lordahip wUl forgie me," she continuedjj "as how oonld I know lhat Captain Dongliis waa yonr lordship's ainsel." But Lord Avondale heard hei not, fot he had sprung toward Irvine, and folded him in his arms ^fith inchoherent expressions of tenderness, wliolly regardless of the presence of tbe BervantJ'who was so lost in astonish¬ ment at Ibis eitlraordinary scene, lhat he had forgolten the ijnpropriety of lomaining in the room, and stocfl gazing first al one, then al the otber iu mute'wonder. At length he was recalled lu himself by a movement on :the part of Grace UacDoyle, who nad risen froqf her supplicating posture, and waa Blealthilyiiinitling the apartment; but he interposed to prevent her exit saying, in rath¬ er a lond key-;- " My lord, ii| this peraon to go f" " Certainly not. Eemove herfiom my aight for the pieseiijt, bnt take care that she doea not eacape. I will oonalder what I shall do with her." The man, tl|iuking perbaps she would make a rush, seized light hold of her arm, and led her away, nor did sbe offer any resiatanoe ; bnt aa soon as they reaohed the hall, sbe drew a leather bag t^om her pookel, aud took there¬ from a pieoe of money. " Now my lonnie man, I will gie ye thia gowden gnineu gin ye will jnat open that door and let me gailg freo." " 0, that's yonr game, is il?" was the reply of tbe trusty captor. "I wouldn't let yon go free for twentj; goldon guineas, for it seems to me you'ts a wioked witch, tfaat has kept a father and son from commg togother for all these many iQpg years. Your gold wouldn't do anybody miioh good, I'm thinking. No, no; don't think to come over me like that. Yon go in there, aii4 bide liU my lord makes up his miud whalj to do with you. He'U have you hanged I iibouldn'twonder, and serve yon rigbt too." With this ciimfortable prediction he pushed her into a smtiU room, wbete tbeie wete no meaus of eaoaj^e, locked the dooi, then went to conunnniosite the wondetfnl news to his feUow Beivanta. Abont an h^ni bad elapsed when he was again summoiied to the Ubrary and deaired to bring his prisi{ner back. She entered theroom wilh a very pinilent look, and repeating her entreaties for pardon, waa told her only chance of obtaining i| was lo make a fuU confesaion of her gnilt, iiihich ahe promiaed to do with¬ oat conoeaUnj; tbe leaat circumslance. Her alory was toldj iu a very disjoined manner but its substtinoe was this :—It seemed lhat Lord Avondale, some three or four and tweuty years back, u:;ider the name of Captain Dong- las, had, for leasons that will hereafter be ex¬ plained, takeij hia yonng wife to Eothsay, and lodged her in the house of a widow named MoDoyle, wh^rs Bhe gave birth to a son, the said Mrs. Mci)oyle undertaking to uurse her Ihrongh her (onfinement. A short time after tbe event too^k place the hnaband waa obliged lo leave Sodtland, and the first news lhat reaohed him {jras that his wife had beenseized with a fever ijud died, leaving the babe to the cate of the njirse, who wrote to the afflicted father, prom^fing to devote her whole atlen¬ tion to the inifant oharge. A snm of money waBimmediaielyaenttoher, with strict in¬ junctions to ipare nothing tbat might oontri¬ bute to the 0 iUd's weU-doing, and for the firet three months she faithfnlly performed her duty; bnt at the ei^l of this time anolher larger le- mittanoe canip from the father, aooompanied by the Infoin [ation lhat he was going abroad fora yeai, atjtbe expiiation of wbich he should telum lo Eolfisay foi his Ultle boy. Aasnied ofj his long absence, and tempted hy the moneJi,sbe lesolved lo tid herself of the chUd, if possible; and with that view look it to Edinburg, i^nd on a dark night .placed it in a basket at tj|e door of a gentleman of fortune named Irvinp, who waB famed for his benev- olenoe, and h^ing a single man, she thonghl waa likely toiprovide fot it. The event an¬ swered her e i:pectations. Ml. Iivine, legard- less of the sq ^ndal that was suie to arise from Bnch proceed jng took in the fonndUng, order¬ ed that a nni^e should be provided for him, in his own ha use, and deolaied that, aa chance had thrown b bia way an object on whioh to fix his affecti ns, he ehonld cettalniy accept the gift, and lok npon the child as his son. "The Lote knowa," continued the culprit, " I wonldn't I have hutt a hait of ita head, pnii baim, b It I knows he wss weel cated for and aa the li 9y was dead, I thonght the Cap¬ tain would t ^ a' bettet lo be freed from sic an encnmbiaom t" ''" How dai ^ yon offer mean excase?" said UiiAvoadite. "VUIappeuto tejoloe In snoh freedom when I came to Bothsiiiy to claim my son Mid yoa told me he was dead f» " I canna say yon did, my lord. You were in stir troable, bull could na teU ye different tion, and I had spent the BiUei.- Gin I had known it hae made ye aae soirow- fu' I wonld ne'ei bae dnne it." She the:a went on to say that, healing of the boy from time to time, and flnding that he was to be Mt. Itvine's belt, beiconidenoe was attest, as ahe made no donbt his own father had become teconclled tohis loss, and was probably matried again. When Mt. Itvine diei she had ptesented herself to the yonng man, beUeving he had inherited the properly, and impOEed on himwith a tale of how be faad been left on her bands a destitute orphan, and she bebig too poor lo maintain him her¬ self had contrived and executed the plan that threw him upon the proteotion of his benefac¬ tor. She was greatly disappointed, she s^d, at heating that Mr. Irvine hsd died wiihout making a wiU, and that his adopted son was left nnprovided for; but when she found that he waa Uving withLoid Avondale, she thonght he must be bettet off, and that it wonld be no harm to ask him fot a little asaistance. " And now, my lotl, that I have made a olean hieast, and that ye hae got yont baim baok, and he is no dlsgtace, but a otedit to ye, I hope ye wiU fotgie a puit body, that meant nae UI, for by the takljig of the siUet, whioh waa nae muckle otime aftet aU, seeing the baim got mail fta his now parent." The Bail, notwithstanding bis wtath, oonld scatcely fotbeat smiling at this ingeniona mode of justifying so flagtant an act of dishonesty; bnt he matotained s severe aspeot, teUlng hei that she nmst at any tale be kept a ptisonei lUl the nsxt day, when ehe must make hot deposition befoie a maglstiale, in order lo establish his Bon'a identity; then dismissing het from hiB piesenoe, he gave himself np to the exqusite happiness that had so unexpect¬ edly been vooohsafed to him. CHAPTEE in. Mt. Sample enteted the parlot of his humble domicile, and seated himself at a table wbete LUian waa engaged in making prepaiations for the tea. He looked vety serions, and was mote silent than usual, answering only in monosylables tb his danghtei's obseivations. At length he said— "Lilian, I have not been blind to the mo¬ tives of Mv. Irvme's ftequent visits, although be has nevet spoken to me in dltect tetms; and as I thonght well ofbim. I have not dia¬ couraged his views. Howevet, I am Boiry now thete bas been so much inleiconiBe ; and I hope, my love, it wUl not make yon very un¬ happy if he should oome hete no more." "Come here no mote?" repeated LiUan, family. "Why not, dear father ? Is he gone?" " No, my child, he is not gone ; bnt a great change hus laken place—we are no longer npon an equality. An extraordinary dlacov¬ ery has besn made thifl day—a disoovory that raises Mr. Iivine far above onr sphere in life— he is Lord Avondale's lawful son and heir." Poor Lilian was ntterly overwhelmed by this startling inieUigence. Her eyes fiUed with tears, and hi a faltering voice sbe asked— " Who lold you this, faiher ? Cau it poasi¬ bly be truo ?" Mr. Semple related the particnlars aa he had juat heard tbem from one of Lord Avondale's own people, and when he had finished the re- cUal, Lilian said— " Father, he asked me to be his wife; he was going to speak to you the nexl time he came here. Do yon think so ill ot him as to believe lhat any change of fortnne would cause him to break hie word and leoaU tbe solenm ptomiae ho has made!" " I do not think iU of him, my dear child, bnt he is not the same person to-day that be was yesterday, and we mnst nol expect lhat an engagement entered mto by Lord Avon- dale's seoretary wiU ba fnlfiUed by bis son." "Oh, father, for his sake, I will try to be glad,', said poor Lilian, in a tone that did not sonnd much like.'gladness. Trying to be glad is bnt aorrowful work al best. AU that evening her eats were strained to oatch the sonnd of footstepa that came nol, and when the hour fof test airived, she went to bed with tearful eyes and a heart saddened by disappointment. On tbat same evening Kenneth Itvine, wbose tme style and title was Oswald, Lord Roden, was listening lo bia fatber'a hiatory, an intereating recital, tbal ocoopied a conside-* rable liaie in telling, bnt of whiob a brief out¬ line will suffice :for the elucidation of tbis story. The lato Lord Avondale had three sons, of whom the present earl, then Lord Roden, was the eldest. The fatfaer was a member of the Sootlifih chnroh, and a strict adherent to tbe rigid observances of tbat faith. A slem eu- thnsiaat on points of religion, he imposed such severe restraints on his ohildren tbal tboy re¬ belled iu aecret, and, unknown to him, in¬ dulged in gayeties foibidden by tbe Puritani¬ cal dootiinea he mainlained, whioh, by injudi- oions coercion, they had been led to ridicule as fanaticism. Slill tbe fear of being disin- herUed kopt them from avowing their real sentiments, and although tbe earl waa by no means satisfied with tbe amonnt of zeal dis¬ played in the cause, he never suspeuted they were altogether aUenated from it. Sueh was the stats of things whon Lord Roden, at the age of twenty-three, went to viait an eatate hia father had pu.-ohased in Ire¬ land, and durbig his BOjoum in that country, he beoame deeply in love witb the danghter of a Catholio nobleman, wbo, for certain reasons oonnooted wilh family affaira, waa abont lo aend her to a convent, wilh the intenliou of oblig¬ ing ber ultimately to lake the veU. She waa not more than eighteen, and being extremely beantlful aawell as lively and accompUahed, it waa no wonder tbat her heart revolted against a life of seclusion, eveu while it was free from lhat soft passion wbioh makes the wotld doub¬ ly dear; bnt when she had listened to Lord Roden'a ardent avowal of lovo and given him her affeotions iu return, the ololstet was not only distasteful but abhorrent to her thoughts, and sbe consented to fiy with him to Scotland, where they were married, acoording to the Scottish laws which at tbal time made Buch a marriage legal. Concealment being equaUy necessary on both sides, the yonng nobleman took his bride to Eothsay, wbere they lodged in tbe bouse of Grace MacDoyle as Captain and Mrs. Douglas, and spenl nearly a twelve¬ month iu perfect happtoess. Lord Avondale beUeving lhat his son waa making a tonr of the highlands. At length a ohild was bom, who was chris- tened Oswald, and shortly afterwards Lord Eodenwas obliged to go to London on account of his fathet, whose health had been for some time on the deolme, and was now so bad lhat II was thought Improbable he would survive many montbs. "To have revealed my mairiage then," continued the eatl, "wouldhave been woiae than useless. I saw that I should soon become my own mastet, when I inight aoknowledge my wife and ohild withont feat of the consequences; but hefore tbat houi airived, I received from Grace MaoDoyle the fatal inteUigence thst I was a widower. I cannot describe the agony I felt—it was beyond all dlagolse; bnt as my father was then neat his end, and eveiybody attributed my grief tohis approaching dissolu¬ tion, and he had hlmsalf no Busplclon as to any othet oanse. After his death, I resolved lo spend a year on the Continent, for I conid not bear the thought of levisiting the soene of my brief period of bapplness; therefore, I provid¬ ed, aa I believed, for my boy's welfare during my absence by sending money to the wonian MacDoyle, with strict injunctions to take cate of him till they retnm. How she abused that trust we now both know. I went bsck to Eothsay at the end of a year, as Captain Dong- las, to claim my chUd, and was told that he was dead. Bitterly did I then reproach my¬ self for having left him theie among Btnugets, and from that time op to OJi day I hare sued fotsotbing'On eatth. My bnthere who had entered Uie urmy have both fallen since in battle, and I have lived here a miaerable and a Bolitaiy man." It was late that night when the fathei and sou separated, foi both were too'muoh exoited by ths eventa 01 the day to feel any inclina¬ tion fot sleep. Oswald oonld aoaroely beUeve he had not been dreaming, bnt his happiness waa not withont aUoy. He waa laisad from poveily to affluence, from humble obscurity to exalted tank, and, mote than aU, he had found a fathei he oonld bolh love and lespect; yet there waa one anxiety ptoBsfaig on hia mind, one dtawbaok to his joy. WTiat would Lord Avondale say now about his visits to the par¬ sonage ? " He knowa that I love hot,'' he said to him¬ self, "and to-motiow BhaU terminate this wretched Buspense ; bnt ifhe shonid forbid it, what then?" These thoughts kept bim awake the whole night, so that when he entered the breakfast room in the moming he looked pale and un¬ refreshed. Lotd Avondale was thete awaitiug him. He was already an altered man—so mnch allered that Oswald waa atartled at the change. "Bnt what is the mattet ?" said his loid- abip. "I am afraid you .ate not very weU satiafied wilh your tranaformation. Yon oet- tamly looked happiei yesterday as Kennith Irvine than yon do to-day as Lotd Roden." " Nay, deal fathet, yon cannot suppose I am so ungrateful. This unlooked-for change in my destiny kept me from sleepmg, lhat is aU." " Are yon sure that is aU," said Lotd Avon- dale, with a more serious aii. " Let us have no concealment, Oswald. There mnst be pei- fect confidence between me and my son.— Howevet we wUl bteakfasi now, and discuss this mattet aftetwaids." Oswald sat dowu at the table with vety Uttle appetite, for he dreaded the conference that was to ensue, yel he oould not be insensible to the agreeable obange in his position, of whioh he was constanlly reminded by the ex¬ treme deference of the servanta, aud the novel¬ ty of being addressed as "my lord.'' It was a lelief to him wheu the meal was ended, and his fathor led the way to tbe Ubra¬ ry, where he at onoe enteted on the subjeot that was eugtosslng the tbonghts of both, by saying, abmptly— " I petceive there is some anxiety ou your mind, and from a oommnnioation you made to me two days ago, I suppose I can guess what it is. You have got yourself into diffi¬ culty, and do not olearly see your way ont of il. Am I not right ?" "If you mean my engagement lo Miss Semple " " Yes, lhat is what I mean. Of course, nn¬ der theae oircumstanoes, you will deaire to break that engagement ?" " Pardon me my lord—I do not desire lo break it. My uneasiness arises from a very different cause. It is the fear of your disap¬ proval, not auy ohange in my own senliment, that makes me anxioua, aud preventa, me I own, fromfeeUug as happy aa I ought lo feeL" Lord Avondale did not reply for some min¬ utes, butpresaiug his bandon his brow, aeemed lo mediate. Al length he aaid— " My dear Oswald, you have not yet had lime to realiae your preaeni poaition and the new proapeota it opena before you. Aa my aecrelary, tbe daughter of the vioat of Wnrsloy was a fitting matoh fot you; but as Lotd Koden aud holt to a peetage, yon may ally youtself with some of the noblest familiea of the king¬ dom. I shaU ehow myself in the world now,, and you wiU be introduced inlo sociely where yont will meet with beautiful, acoompUshed, and high-botn women, who will aoon leach you to forget this simple couutry girl. " Never I" exclaimed the young man witb energetic warmth. "Sbe is nol high-bom, il is tme ; nor, in tbe fashionable aense of tbe world, accomplished; bnt she is ba^ntifal and amiable—sbe has all the virtuea tbal are requisite to grace a cornet and I love^her witb deep aud truthful affeotion tbat can nover change.'' " Tben I am to understand lhat yon wonld marry her, even thoagh il were oontrary to my wishes." " Not so, my lord. If it be yonr command tbat I shoald cease lo tbink of Lilian aa my future wife, I will obey; but in ao doing I aaorifice much of my happiness, aud bring an everlasting cloud over the bright sunshine that has so suddeuly aud unexpectedly thrown a new ligbt upon my existence." "Your sunshine sbaU never be clouded by mo, Oswald," said his fatfaer, holding out bis haud, whioh the young man pressed to his lips in a transport of joy and gratitude. " If you are sure ofyonr own heari, my dear aon, act according ';to its dictates. Yon have my full permission to do so. Semple is a very excellent man, and, as I have myself some patronafte in the church, and more influence than I bave ever cared to exert, we mnst man¬ age to make a dean of him, thatthe world may bave no room to cavil al yout cboice ; and if, by-and-bye, a bishopric sbouid fall in the way, wby so much the betler." GOOD HIGHT. Day haa passed! Stars havo set their watch nt lasl. Founts that through the deep wooda flow, Mako sweot sounds unheard till now, Flowera havo abut with fading light- Good nigbt! Go to rest! Sleop sit, dove-Uke, on tby breast! If witbin tho secret eell One dark form of memory dwell, Be it mantled from thy sight. Good night! Joy be thino! Kind looka o'er thy slumbers shine ! Go, and in the spirit land. Meet tby home*s long parted hand. Be their eyos all love and light— Good Night! Poace to aU 1 Dreams of beavon on mourners fall! Exile! o'er thy couch may gleam. Pass from tbine own mountain streams! Bard! away to worlds more bright 1 Good night? A good-lookiug-fellow was arraigned before Court oharged with havmg stolen a watch. It was his flrst error, and be was ready to plead gnilty. The Judge addressed him in very gentle tones, asking him what indnced him to commit the theft. Tho yonng man repUed that, having been unweU for some lime, the dootor advised him lo take something, which he aooordmgly did. The Jndge was tathei pleased wilh the humot of the thing, and asked him what had led him to Beiect a walch. « Why," said the ptisonei," I Ihought if I only had tha time, that nature would work a oure I" At a cotmtry training, where the mUitaiy spirit was not the most active, bnt one piivate leaponded to the captain's call to " fall in." " Now, look hete, cap'n," says he," you may match and oonnteimarob me as muoh as you dam please; hut wheu you oome to cutting me up into aections and platoons, I'U desert, rank and file, hang me 'f I don't." Why are two yonng ladies kissing each olber, an emblem of Cbrisliauily ? Because they are doing nnto each other aa they would men should do unto them. Wby is a good cook like a woman of faah¬ ion ? Because she drosses well. Bebels, Uke firewood, should ba meaauted , by the cord. Why ia the wind Uke an intemperate man? —Because it often gets high. 1 Why is the tree that beats no fruit as good i as the one that does ?—Because they are both ' bearhi' (barren). Why is lighting the gas for a lady like helping her from a cutisge t—Becanse we aasiat hei to a-Ught. .1 ¦' [Ftom the N.T.'Metbodiit] A STOEY FOE THE IITTLE FOLKS. The Summer Vacation, " I mean to have a glorions time this vaoa¬ tion," said Charlotte Brown, as she walked in the pleasnre.gronnd^of Instituto, with bet aim round the waiit of het favorite class¬ mate, Fanny Stnyaen. " What do you inlend to do ?" aaked Fanny. . "Ohl evetythhig. I'U make pa take me to Saratoga or Newport some of the time ; and then ru make a visit to uncle Henry's- they're just oome home from Bnrope, snd are fuU of Parisian gayety and London style; and what time I epend at home I'U fin np with horse-ridtog, and carriage-ridhig, andpionlos, aud evening parties ; so that, by the time I come back to school, I sbairhave had enough of pleasure to last me untQ Christmas." "Verynioe," said Fanuy, "yon wiU, iu¬ deed, have a glorions time." "And how WiU you enjoy yourself?" aaked Charlotte. " I don't know" was tbe short reply, and the oonversation ended. 'What a common auswer " I don't kuow" is and how seldom it meana what it says I It generally meana: "I do know, bnt don't want to lell." It is, therefore, tmthless, and those who nse it in thia sense are gnUly of falsehood every time they used it. Fanny Stnyaen knew, aa well as one can know what is in the fuiure, how Bhe shonid spend the ensuing va¬ cation; but het holiday enjoyments would not be of a fashionable or expensive charactet, so she did not oate to recount tbem. Sbe prefeired stooping lo nnlmth. It was a large, Bubataulial, old fashioned farmhonse to whioh Fauny reiurned wheu her aohool tetm cloaed ; and the young gill's fitst thought as she appioached it was the difference between het plain, unpretending home, snd the elegantly decorated manslou whioh should receive Charlotte Brown the same-day. Sbe had never seeu Charlotte's residence—her impression of its style and beauty was merely from description; yet the the impression waa vivid enough to supply her with a striking contrast to overylhing within and aronnd her father's honse. Her father, himaelf, came lo meet her al the depot, and evinced the fondest joy at sight ofher, bnl eveu as Bhe received his warm, welcoming embrace, her eyea glanced at his hotrely rockaway and coarse team, and sbe thought of the gay carriage and shining horses wbich would meet Charlotte, and she could scarcely repress a sigb. " Here ahe is I bere sbe is I shouted tbe litlle brothers, who were watching for the rockaway, and mamma rau to the door to kiss her daughter as she entered. Fanny threw herself with real affection inlo the lovii>g arms; but at the momeni, her mental eye oangbt a gUmpae of iCbarlolte's silken robed motber, and tears of mortification fell upon the colton gown of her best friend. The anpper-table was spread extra nice tfais evening in faonor of Fanny's telum, and cheer¬ ful good-natnie sat on every face. Mr. Stny¬ aen kept piling good ttings on his daughter's plate, and oalling hia wife's attention to the genteel appetite of tha school-girl; while the boya langhed and aaid aister wonld eat heartily now lhat afae was at home, wUh no atudiea to tronble ber. Fanny smiled, and tried to seem pleased witb the loving attentions lavished on her; whUe Bbe was inwardly busy piolnring the evening scene iu Chariotte's faome—tfae Inxnriona parior lit with oostly lamps, the table adomed with shining silvei, and the dainty repast. Next day Jane and Willy, two cousins who Uved at abont a mile distance, came to see Fanny and welcome her home. Tfaey were in faigh spirits, aud full of plans for the holidaya ; and Tommy and George, Fanny'a brotbers, entered joyously into their gay anticipations ; tbe happiness of the group communicated it^ self to Fanny'a heart, which begau lo glow with pleasnre, bnl then oame tbe thought of Charlotte's cousins, just oome bome from " Enrope," " fnU of Parisian gayety and Lon¬ don atyle," and her own homeapnn kindred with tbeir rnatic enjoymeota looked ao mean in comparison that abe conid scarcely conceal her disgust. Her young companions were slow to per¬ ceive that their sports were nol affording as muoh pleasnre lo Fanny as to themselves; they therefore oontinned to arrange new froUcs for each day, wilh the speoial object of giving amusement to tfae acbool-girl. One day it was a berry ing party to the wood. They were provided with a nioe lunch, and carried to the entry of tho wood in a large farm ¦ wagon. Tbia wagon-ride was great fun to the little company, who langbed and sung, and told merry stopies all along the road. Fanny waa called upon to recount aomo of tbe recre¬ ations at school; but her mind waa occapied in sketching a faahionable pic-nic parly, such as Charlotte wonld, perhaps, be partaking in, anl sho oould scarcely rouse herself to reply to the gay appeal. Arrived at the bright, ^reen wood, through wfaose thick foliage the strong sunbeams could not penetrate; tbe young folks spmng from tbe wagon and rushed into tbe grateful shade where lhey could run, and leap, and play, to tbeir hearts' coutent. Willy took Fanny's hand, for a rnn, be said; and before she could resist he was fleeing among tbe trees, dragging her, aimosl breathless, after faim, unlil, in passing a clump of bushes, her dress got lorn, and then he cast bimself on the green earth and bnrat ont laughing. " I don't like sucb rough play," said Fanny pettishly. Willy immediately became grave, and remarked:— "Wby, you're nol balf as lively as you used to be, Fanny. I'll ask uncle not to send you to that dull school any more." "Ohl it'a not tho school," sfae replied.— "I'm as lively aa ever; bnt I'm older, yon know, and uot qnite as wild." Willy did know that sbe was older; bul ao was he, aud so waa Jane, and so were all his yonng friends, yel their spirits were as lighl as ever. Tbat somelhing hai damped Fanny's cheerfulness was plain, whether she admitted il or not, and ajie must be dealt tenderly with—affer a while, perhaps, her gayety would retum. So, the boy arose, and said gently;— " Well, we'll not run if you don'l like il— we'll pick berries, and play at anything yon ploase." And tho day was spent in doing whatevet Fanny pleased; and Fauny tried to seem pleased, tfaongfa she was nol, for all tbe time oame visions of aristocratic parties au^ elegant amusements in which Charlotte bore a bappy patt. When haying-time camo, tbe young people expeoted great fun, and Fanuy was reminded how muoh sho uaed lo enjoy the diveralon.- She remembered il bnt did nol anticipate en¬ joyiug il now; however, ahe went wilh them and looked on, aa they raked and leased the ripe grass, and helped load the wagons laugh- mg and shonting the while. She walked about, aud tried to wear a smUing face; bnt tbe sun waa hot, and het patasol gave bet but little sheltet, and tbe arom'a of the new-made hay was a farm odor, and she thought of the shady walks aud the delioate peifume of ex¬ otic plants in the gatdens wbere Chailotte was now, doubtless, Inxuiiatuig. Tbe blight mid-sommet holidays passed Blowly enongh with Fanny Stuysen. The good old homestead, with all ils life and eheet wasduUtohei. Eveiything gol np fot hot amusement failed. She joined in the meity- maklng, aud iningled in the games of simple miith; bnt it was with cold and fotmal move¬ ments ; het heatl was away In the ptond scenes which Chailotte Brown had deacribed as compoaing the "gloiious time" of hot vacation. There was not as much regret as there might have been among the Stuysen yonng folks when Fanny's hoUdays diew to sn end. Bhe had neithei been happy not made othen •0. Home had not aeemed Uks home to btr; and the aiiSple bonntqr pleainies; ii' "wlilch she had bee^ tued toidznrlate, had failed to interest her. 'Her {aiully' bad been disapi- poUited in the joy they had ezpeotfld ftom her visit; and, when she left to ratntn to school, then wete: fewer teats on eith^ aide than had evei been shad on a Uks oooaaloii before. Fanuy antioipated inuch entertainment on het reunion with her friend Cbailot<e;'lh Uat¬ enlng to the iattet's aocount of the manner In which she had spent vacation; thereby learn¬ ing more of the "Ways aud mannera of the gteat wotld, while her imagination would be chatm- ed with desciiptiono of their dwellings and dresses. If she could not Uve in the happy ciroles of wealth aud faahion, she might, at least have hertastefoi theii superioi enjoy¬ ments indulged by a heresay acquaintance with them; snd so she looked forward toher meet¬ ing with Chailotte, hoping a rich tieat in the news the lattei wonld have to commnnioate. The day at lenglh came when the pupUs of luBlItnte leassembled fot the faU teim. They wete,'foi the most patt, sad at leaving home—some had eyes red with weephig; bnt even the saddest lost her sotrow, and the teat- Btaiued eyes lost evety expieasion bnt that of sympathy when Chailotte Brown entered. The yonng gitl, late so gay and briUiant, was pale and mournful. Het dress was deepest blaok, bnt coaise In texture, and plain in Btyle; and altogetherso changed was she from what she had been and what they had expected stUl to flnd her, that her yonng oompanloni oould Boaroely reaUze it was, indeed, herself. She was reoeived in perfeot sUence. The re¬ speot wbich real grief inspires waa deeply fell; and thongh theygatheied round, and kissed het watmly, yel none presumed lo question of what eaoh longed to know, tfae Btoty ot het SOIIOW. Different, howevet, ftom tbose of all the rest wete tbe feelings of Fanny Stuysen at sight of hot alleied triend. With a sudden msh came to het mind how het pleasant holidays had been embilleted by the envious musings npon the supposed richeienjoymenlB ofthis bereav¬ ed and afflicted cteatuie. Awe mixed wilh ahame aooompanying the thonght pieiced het heatl with a pain whioh made het cty alond; and, in an agony of teats, too sltong lo becon- tioUed, shehuiried from theroom. Wben time had modified Charlotte Brown'a grief, so as to enable her to speak of her mis¬ fortunes, she told her yonng friend aU; and Fanny's head hnng down, and ber heart ached with self reproach, aa sho leamed tbal tbe qniet season wfaich she hai disturbed wilh discontent, and the simple farm-pleasures whicb sbe hai despised, bad ofteu been thought of with longing by her lo whom the world had proved hollow aud deceitful. Chailotte relumed from school tbat snmmer vacation to find her palace-home wrapped in gloom. Her fatfaer was lying siok—a sickness brougfat on by distress of mind in consequence of tbe utter failure of faia basiness. His death ensued; aud the deUoately nurtured family were left almost pennUess. The friends, more ready lo blame tfaan to sympathize, offered grudging aid—wbich tbe heart-broken widow rejeoted ; and mortified thetr brido tbe more by gathering togeiher the fragments of ber late elegaut faome and opening a boarding-house. Her daughter sbe sent back to sobool only lhat ber education migbt b^ flniahed with the view of making teaching a profeaaion ; aud ao ended Charlotte's golden hopes and Fanny's fooUsb envy. BEEVITIES. Wise and Otherwise. Once npon a time a woridly man, wfao was wbolly abaorbed in the aooumulations of pro¬ perty, was gently remonstrated wilh upon the subject by his clergyman, and remiued of the necessity of preparing for anotfaer world.— " Dou't talk to me of anotfaer world," was tfae reply ; "one world at a time is as muob asl can attend to." Tbe wife ot a respectable printer namei Fannan, residing in Toronto, C. W., elopei on Tuesday lasl witfa a sfaoemaker named Mcln- toafa. Wbeu Fannan heari that hia wife faad gone, he very coolly aaid: " WeU, let her rip ; tfaere'a plenty more women in Canada." It ia aaid tbal some motbeia are grown ao affectionate, that tbey give their cbildren chloroform previona to whipping them. Why ia a cannon just flred like a whipped sobool boy ? Beoause it is warm at the breeob. It would be bard to convince the magnetic neeile tbat a loaistone ia notthe most attrac¬ tive tbing in tbe world. Water is not a fashionable beverage fcr drinking to yonr friend's health, but it is a capital one for drinking to your own. Dr. Davy has satisfied bimself tfaat tbe egga of biris are galvanic batteriea. This is prob¬ ably tfae reason that, wben stale, tbey aie shocking 1 Tbe Noifolk Day Book speaka of Yankees having Iniia-rnbber conacieucea. We do not donbt bnt many of tbe "Virginians would be glad of Iniia-rnbber, or even leather soles. Young Giles, wbo isjust beginning to leara Frencb, wants lo know faow it is, if tbey faave no to in that language, tbat" them chaps spells wagou?" Albougb lbe Eebela ieny lhat they are aa- sistei by the Indians, il is certam tfaat tbeir Potomac boats rely for safety on the Creeks. Tfae editor of the Milwaukie Setitinel does not boast of tbe size of Wisconsin babiea, bnl says "tfaey are an uncommon sura crop." If a bear were to- go into a linen-draper's shop wbat would he want ? He would want muzzlin. The aouthern papers say that cotlon is their gold aud silver. A bale ot cottou mnst be a lather awkwaid pnise ot specie. From nsing glasses ou the nose, you see an objeot single; from using them under the nose you see it double. Old Grimwig saya that tears at a wedding are only tfae commencement ottbe pickle tbat young folks are geUing inlo. Whal is the difference between a certain biting vegetable ani a bay nag ?—One is a horse-radish, the other a reddish horso. " What's iu a dress ?" asks a popnlar writer. That depends on who tbe wearor is. Jones look snap judgment on an Intruder, tbe other day. He sel the dog ou him. II is often said tbat knowledge is power, aui tbia is true. SkiU or faoulty ofany kind, carriea with superiority. So to a certain ex¬ tent, wealth is power, and rank is power, and genius bas a transeeudant gift of maaleiy over men. But higher, pnrer, and belter than aU, more conaialent in its infiuence and more laat¬ ing in its sway, is the power of character; that power wbicb emanates from a pure and lofty mini. Tbe freqnent use of tbe name of God, orthe devil; aUnsions lo passages of Scripture; mocking at anyihing aeriona and devout; oaths, vnlgar by-words, cant phrases, affected hard words, wbon famiUar terms wUl do as well; aorapa oi Latin, Greek, or French; qno¬ tations from plays spoken in a theatrical man¬ ner—all these much used in oonveraation ren¬ der a person very contemptUile to grave and wiae men. We sometimes meet with men wbo seem to think that any indulgeuce in an affeotionate feeUng is a weakness. Tfaey will retnm from a journey and greet their families with a dis¬ tant dignity, and move among their children with the cold aud lofty splendor of an iceberg Burronnded by its broken fragments. Tbere ia hardly a more nsnatnral sight on earlh thau one of those famUies without a heart. A falber had belter extinguish a boy'a eyes than take away his heart. Who that has experi¬ enced the joys of friendship, and valnes sym¬ pathy and affections, wonld not lathet lose aU that is beautifnl in nature's scenety than be robbed of the bidden tieasnrea of his heait ? Chetlah, then, yonr heart's best affeotions.— Indnlge is the watm and gusUng emotions of flUol, parental, and fraternal love. I TO LET. THE BTBASBTTBO BAII. BOAD. SEALED PROPOSALS wiU ba re¬ ealvad at tka OBca ot D. O. SitUjSUAS.llo. 33 Xfortk Dokeatieet.latkaOityof Laoeutw.unlU BIT- UKDAr, tke Zld day of f £BaDAS7, ISeS, to lease tka STBASBOSa Ball. BOU), witk IU JtoUlng Stock, Itx- toru. Lujakaz aad Coal Yatd, Depot, Wareboase, nirelltss Hooae, and otker appaiteaaflcw, for a tarm of oae oe raore yaara, from tka :.7tk of Uay aexu Tke aald BaU Boad extenda from Lamon Placa on tka Pennaylvania BaUroad to tbaBoroogkol suubarg. and Is In good running order. Tke locatioa at ritraakarg la one or tke but for a geneial coal, lamber, and forward¬ ing business In tha State. Conditiona ean ba ascertained by enquiring of D. a. B.hjaTnnn. D. O. ISHLEHiir, FEKKBE BaiNTON, O. J. DlCliJiTr, OrBDS a. HKllE, Jan 29.41-10 CommUtee. HOTICE. ALL peraons having claims against the . City of lian^astar, (for labor or maiarlals,) are requaated to'preseat tbem at tke Udyor'sOtllcs.for pay- meat, oa or before tke4th day of l*£eunAKy, 1SS2. By order of tbe Finance Commlttae, Jan29-2t.l0 _ Q. ^^Uu, Ckalrman. Situation Wanted by a Qood IVl iller. THE undeisigned, wishes a situation as a HILLEB, ausnt tka Hrst of UABCH next.— 'laa applicant Is uow in tke employ of Mr. JOHM HEsa, at tke Oregon Ulll, and can glva lba best of refereacea. Address, HENBT iiCUATZ, jag 32-4f-S Oregoa P. O.. Laacajler coaoty. FOB BENT. STOiRE KOOM and DWELLING, sit¬ aated in a village wkere .cah lioslness can be done Poaaessloa.can bo kad la tke fall. For partieolarsenqnlie at this olSce. Jnl24 tf36 FOB BENT. AVALUAJiLE a'i'OllE HOUSE and DWELLING attacked, known ae tke TELLOW ti'lUiia. In Peqaoa, Laucaater cooaly. Inquire of tka sabBcrlbera residing on ttae piemUes. or address by mall—Oap, v. U., Laacaater coonty, Pa. Jaaasi-7 BHOWN k DE A N. AUDITOE'S NOTICB. ¦ ^OTICK is hereby given, that the un- JL 11 derslgned Aadltor, appointed by the Orpbana' i..,ait of Laacaater coaaty, lo distribate tLe balancein the hands of Daniel F. Branelser and Jacob Carper, Ex¬ ecnlors of tka lasl Will of OOTLlEl! CiEPBK. to and among tboaa legaUy entlUed to tka aame, wUl meet,fox tke pnrpose of hla appolaimaat. ou TUUBSiDAy, tka I3tk day ot FEBBOABI uext, at 2 o'clock la tke atttr- nooa ol said day, al the Library Hoom In taa Court Hooee. In tke city of Lancastar, when and wkere all persons inleresiel may auead if lhey see proper. Jaa 1S.-I1-6 PETEK H. agaar, Auditor. AUDITOB'S NOTICB. JOHN VV. BJiilN-KMAN, deceased.— Tko. undersigned, Auditor appointed by tke Or- phaaa'a Court of Laucaater county, to distribute tke balaacelathekaudsof accoaalaat, Aodrew Armetroag, tke Execator, amoagbt the creditors, or those legaiiy eatltled to Ike same, accordlag lo law, beraby gives ootloe, tbat ke will atleud for tho purpose of his ap- poiulmeat, at the public house of Jacob Uiestaad, in the Tillage of Bpringville, Mount Joy township, on EATDBDaT, the 16lh day of PEBBUABI, 1B62, at 2 o'clock, P. M , of said day, whea and where all persona interested may attend. MATTHEW O. MABPLE, Jan 154t8 Audllor. ¦C'^STATE OF MERCEB, WHITSON, i'j iato of Bait township, deceased.—Lellers of ad- miaislratlou on uaid estate having beau graded to lbe undersigned, all persons Indehted thereto are requested tomake Immedlale paymenl, aad those having claima or demaads agalatt tke same will present lhem wllkout delay for settiemeat to tbe anderaigoed, residiog in Sadsbary towaship. OEOKOE WHITSON, Jan 50.61-10 Administrator. ESTATE of LEWIS BRABLEY, late of Faltoa townahip, dftceaaed. L«U«rB of ad- miautralioa oa tald estate harlng bean graat«(l to tha andflralsaed, all poreosa isdebted thereto are reqaested to m&ks Immediate paymoat, aad tUose haTtng clalma or demands agAioBt the bama will preMot them for saU tlement to the aadsraigaed, renidisg ia naid townBhip. Jan ft.6t.7 JBKKliUE BUOWN. ESTATE of MAKTHA ANDREWS, Iale of Lancaster township, deceased. LeUerd oi admmietratioa on said eatate bnring besn grttnled to the nnderBlgBt^, all persons Indebted thereto are re¬ qnested to make immediate payment, and Ibuse baving claims or demands against the uame will present them for aettlemeat to tbe oaderalgned, realdiag la said tuwn- ahlp. JACOB K. AnDKEWei, BENJ, K. ANDREWS, ]an^8-6*t-7 Admlniairalora.__ ESTATE of ANNA THOMAS, late of Peqaea towaship, deceased. Letters of admtnls- tratioa on said estate haTiog been graated to the under- Eigaed, all perGona indebted tbereto ate reqaeated to make Immediate paymeat, aad those having claims or demands agaiast the same will present tbem fur set¬ Uemeot to tho nndersigaed, residing In said towaship. ADAM THOMiS, Jan8-6L».7 JOBN HAKUAN, Jr^ ESTATE of REBECCA ROO?, lato of Ephrata towaship, deceased. Letten of ad- uiiuistratlon oa said estate having been graated to tha aaderslgned, all persoas iadebwd thereto are requesled Lo make Immediate payment, and thoae havlag claima or demands sgalnst the same will prdoent them for set- tlement to the andersigned, residing in tald township. HENB.7 UHBAFFEK, janS-et"-? _ Admlniatrator. ESTATE of SOPHIA PRICE, late of East Lampeter townsbipf deceased. Letters of Huminlstration on said e-itate having boea griinted to the DDdersigaed, all persons indnbtad ihere:o ar« re¬ qoested to make Immediate payment, and those having claims or demaniis against tbe same will prericnt thom withont delay for settiemeat to the andereigaed. resid¬ ing in aaid towniihip. jan 1.6t-ti WILLIAM CARR0L03. Dissolution of PartnetBhip. THE Co-partnership heretofore existing nnder the firm of JOH.N F. LO.NG i CO.. Drag- gists, Was dlsifolved on the l&th of November last, by tbe death of Joseph Brimmer, one of the partners. Tho basiness of tbe late flrm will be settled, by JOHNF. LOKO, the Eurvlving partner, at tbe Old Stand. Jl^John F.Long, would tender hla thaoks to the pablle for the liberal patronage bestowed on lha lato flrm, and woold respectfally annannce that be bas aa- sjci&ced with hImFeirinthe Drng bnslnees his sons— JOHN C. and OHAULES E. LONO. The basinesa ia fatnra will be condncted aoder the name of JOHN P. LONO St SONS, who, by their strict and aodivided at¬ tentlan to basiness, will endeavor to merit a contlna¬ ance of the liberal patronage received at this old eatab¬ llsbment. Lakcastek, Deo, 26tb, 1P«1. jaa l-Ct-6 - "cAUTioN TO TRESPASSEKS. T^HE undersigued citizens of East I Doaegal towaHblp, Laacaster connty. Pa., heroby caatioa all persons againat trespassing on their prem¬ ises, by gaanios, fishing or otherwsse, nnder peaalty of thelaw: Samnel Redsecker, Daoiel NIsaley, John M. WhitehUl, David F. Brabaker, Georga S. MUler, ChrUUaa Herrh, Benjamin Oerber, Jonaa Mumma, Sou., Chrihtlaa K. Nissley, Christiaa Oerber, John K. Nissley, Sath Eby, Jooae Mamma, Dr. Nathaniel Watsoa. Andrew Armstrong, Michael Hnber. Eli Uotfman, Jobn G. Hoerner, John Gross, James B. Clark, Joha W. Olark, J. E- KreybUl. East Doaegal twp. ."'.^'^J^ THE IKLAITD INSURANCE AND DEPOSIT COMPANY INSURE against loss by lire on Build¬ ings, either perpetnal or limited. Aleo, oa Meichao- diae,farnltare aodotberpersonat property, st reaaooable rates, B3~Sald CompaoT also receive monay on deposit ao hare tofore, pay 6 perceat ioterest for one month or Iooger, and dU por cent oa depoait made for a year. I.E. HIESTEK, Freaideot. R. F. EACca, SecreUry. mar 2l-tM7 BEED, HENDEBSON & CO. BANKKKS, Corner of East King and Duke Streets, LANCASTER, PA. Jan 8 ly-7 COAIi AND KEBOSENE OIL OF BEST qVALITY AND BRILLIANT LIGHT, AT GREATLY REDUCED PRICE, For Sals In Qaantity as deaired, from small measnre to Casks. AT THS HARDWARE STORB OF GEO. MATER, No. 22 North Qdee.-s Street, La.^c'k. jan 22 __ _ 8t-8 NOTICE TO NEW HOITSEKEEPEES. Hoaaehold aod Kltchea Faroitara of every deseriptioa at redaced prices, at tbe Hardware Store of the Sab¬ scriber. Sach as STOVES, COO^ cfe> 3E»,A"Ft.Xj03H., CEDARWARE, Looking Qlaeses, Halves. Forks. Spoooe. Ladles, Brasa sad Copper Kijllles. Iron Kettlee, Sake Paas, Brashes. Woskiioes, Bedcorda, Ac, &e. Q-Call at Eprechar'e old Stood, N. Qaean Streat, Jao 25-301.8 i. W. RDSSEL. CONSU MKKS COAL, O JF Twa-BIE 3XrOTIOBS COAL YARD, stia at the Old Flace, Cor. of Prinoe and Lemon eta., one Bqa* Nortii of the Railroad. rriHE most convenient yard in the oity I for Coantry Trade, being ont of eight ot lbe caro, and frootiog oa two Btreels. C^Havlng procared tho services of JACOB BBINHOLD, for 15 years Trail aad favorably Itaown to tha people of this coaoty In conoeclloo with lhe coal boaU I nese, and by glvlog hih eatire atleatton to the basiaess, tho enbscrlber bopes to merit and receive a Uberal sbara of the pablio patronege. t^Ocon CooZ and full vxight guaranteed to off. Bprl7-ly.2l LHVI £LLHAEER. nPHE GENUINE BROWN'S IM- JL PKOVED DASDELIOS COFFEE. Sold at HEITSHirs DKDO STOKE. 13 WEST KIse STBEET, Laacasier, Pa. dee 31.2 COAL OIL t COAL OIL 11 XHE subscriber is now prepared to famish lho BEST COAL OIL to Storekeepers at ideiphla Prices, thereby saving tbo freight lhereon, aad warranted the best article In lha marllet—at 50 to 60 cents per gallon, by the bbl. or ^ bbl. J. B. UARKLET nov 20-tf 52 Apothecary, No.41 North Qaeea, Head Quarters for Coal Oil. TUST received 10 bbls extra quality of f§ COAL OIL, and for sale, wholeeale and retail, at FUIadelpUa Pilcea. Alao, COAI on. LAMPS, WICKS, CHIMNEIB and BHAl>Ea,br JOHN'D. SKILES. I0l34f41 No. IS, Eaal King et.
Object Description
Title | Lancaster Examiner and Herald |
Masthead | Lancaster Examiner and Herald |
Volume | 36 |
Issue | 11 |
Subject | Newspapers--Pennsylvania--Lancaster County |
Description | The Lancaster Examiner and Herald was published weekly in Lancaster, Pa., during the middle years of the nineteenth century. By digitizing the years 1834-1872, patrons are provided with a view of politics and events of this tumultuous period from a liberal political slant, providing balance to the more conservative perspective of the Intelligencer-Journal, which was recently digitized by Penn State. |
Publisher | Hamersly & Richards |
Place of Publication | Lancaster, Pa. |
Date | 1862-02-05 |
Location Covered | Lancaster County (Pa.) |
Type | Text |
Original Format | Newspapers |
Digital Format | image/tiff |
Language | English |
Rights | http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/NoC-US/1.0/ |
Contact | For information on source and images, contact LancasterHistory, Attn: Library Services, 230 N. President Ave., Lancaster, PA, 17603. Phone: 717-392-4633, ext. 126. Email: research@lancasterhistory.org |
Contributing Institution | LancasterHistory |
Sponsorship | This Digital Object is provided in a collection that is included in POWER Library: Pennsylvania Photos and Documents, which is funded by the Office of Commonwealth Libraries of Pennsylvania/Pennsylvania Department of Education. |
Month | 02 |
Day | 05 |
Year | 1862 |
Description
Title | Lancaster Examiner and Herald |
Masthead | Lancaster Examiner and Herald |
Volume | 36 |
Issue | 11 |
Subject | Newspapers--Pennsylvania--Lancaster County |
Description | The Lancaster Examiner and Herald was published weekly in Lancaster, Pa., during the middle years of the nineteenth century. By digitizing the years 1834-1872, patrons are provided with a view of politics and events of this tumultuous period from a liberal political slant, providing balance to the more conservative perspective of the Intelligencer-Journal, which was recently digitized by Penn State. |
Publisher | Hamersly & Richards |
Place of Publication | Lancaster, Pa. |
Date | 1862-02-05 |
Location Covered | Lancaster County (Pa.) |
Type | Text |
Original Format | Newspapers |
Digital Format | image/tiff |
Digital Specifications | Image was scanned by OCLC at the Preservation Service Center in Bethlehem, PA. Archival Image is a 1-bit bitonal tiff that was scanned from microfilm at 300 dpi. The original file size was 813 kilobytes. |
Language | English |
Rights | http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/NoC-US/1.0/ |
Contact | For information on source and images, contact LancasterHistory, Attn: Library Services, 230 N. President Ave., Lancaster, PA, 17603. Phone: 717-392-4633, ext. 126. Email: research@lancasterhistory.org |
Contributing Institution | LancasterHistory |
Sponsorship | This Digital Object is provided in a collection that is included in POWER Library: Pennsylvania Photos and Documents, which is funded by the Office of Commonwealth Libraries of Pennsylvania/Pennsylvania Department of Education. |
Month | 02 |
Day | 05 |
Year | 1862 |
Page | 1 |
Resource Identifier | 18620205_001.tif |
Full Text |
ys^"
VOL. XMVI.
IliANCASTER, PA., WEDNESDAY, EEBRUARI ^, 1862.
J. A. HEBSTAND, J. F. HUBKE, F. HECKEET,
mSUt TKl WOMOW
HI£STA3n>, HUBEB & HEGSEBT,
omoi XV voxTK QTxmr btur.
THE EXAMINER & HEBALI> is PtliHsJud WMklg. ct Ttoo HaOars a Year.
ADVERTJSBESNTS willbe Jnsaiiad kttlie raUof «I OOi>M«iiui^ortaUnM, for tkm IniK- tlottf orleu; ud35o«nUper8qami«forHck«dllUoiiAl Insertion..
AdTectlsuiiinUexoMdlss 10 linu-will bveliugode c»ts p«r lin. for the Ut inB«rtion, and 8 euiU par line or uwlL anbeeqaont Ineanion.
BoeinMe AdTertteemenU ineertod by th. qnirtw: kalf yaar or yaar, will ko ckargad aa followa;
zmmlla.tmmlhs. llnotiMa
OnaOinara «3 00 «S 00 « 8 00
Two " 6 00 8 00 UOO
V oolnmn 10 00 18 00 SSOO
l? " 18 00 25 00 « 00
1 . SOOO 68 00 80 00
BnsnreSS HOTICSS in«an«d katora Marriagaa and Deaths, donble tka regalar rates.
Q-ill adTortleing accounts ara conslderod oollacla- blo at Ike eiplratlon of kalf tko period oontracted for. Transient adTartlsementfi. oabh
AT POET BOYAL. 1861.
BT JOHN G. TTniTTTBH.
The tent-lights glimmer on the land,
Tbo ship-lights on the sea; Tho night-wiDd smooths with drifting aand
Our traclc on lone Tybee.
At last our grating kools outslide, Oor good boats forward swing;
And while we ride the land-locked lido. Our negroes row and aing.
For dear tbe boodman holda hia gifts
or music and of aoDg: Tho gold that kindly Nature sifta
Among hia sands of wrong;
The power to make his toiling days And poor bome-comforts ploase;
Tho quaint relief of mirth that playa With sorrow'a minor keys.
Another glow than sunset's fira Haa filled the West with light.
Where field aud garner, ham and byre Are blazing through the night.
The land is Wild with fear and hato.
The rout mns mad and fast j From hand to hand, from gate to gate,
The flaming brand is pasaed.
The Inrid glow falla strong across
Dark faces broad with smiles; Not thoira tho terror, hato, and loas
That fire yon blazing pilea.
With oar-strokes timing to their song,
Thoy weave in simple lays The pathoa of remembered wrong,
The hope of better days,—
Tbo triumph-noto that Miriam sung,
Tho joy of uncaged birds: eofteniog with Afric's mellow tongue
Tbeir broken Saxon words.
sona OF THE NSQEO EOATUEK. Oh, praise an* tanks! Do Lord he como
To set du people freo : An'maSfn tink it day ob doom,
An- wo ob jubilee. Do Lord dat heap de Hed Sea waves,
Ho jus' as 'trong as den; He say do word: wo iaa' uigbt alavea ; To-day, de Lord's freemen. Do y.im will grow, de cotton blow.
We'll bab de rice an' coru : Oh, nehber you fear, if nebber you hoar Do driver blow his hom!
Ole massa on he trobbels gone j
Ho leab de land behind: De Lord's breffblow him furder on,
Liko corn-shuck in de wind. We own do hoe, wo own de plough,
Wc own de hands dat hold; We sell de pig, we sell de sow. Bat nebber chile bo sold. De yam will grow, de cotton blow.
We'll hab do rice an' eorn; Oh, nebber you fear, if nebber you hear De driver blow bis hom !
Wo prny do Lord : he gih us signs
Dal somo day we be freo; De Norf-wind tell it to do pines,
De wild-duck to de sea; We tink it when de church-bell ring,
Wo dream it in de dream ; De rice-bird mean it when he sing, De eagle when he scream. De yam will grow, de cotton blow,
Wo'll hab de rice an* cora : Oh, nebber you fear, if nebber you hear De driver blow his hom!
We know de promise nebber fail.
An' nebber lie do word; So, like de 'postlcs in de jail,
We waited for do Lord : An* now he open ehery door,
An' trow away de koy ; He tink we Inb him so before, We lub him better free.
De yam will grow, de ootton blow,
'He'll gib do rice an* com: So nebber you fear, if nebber you hear Do driver blow his hom !
So sing our dusky gondoliers;
And with a secret pain, And smiles tbat seom akin to tears,
Wo bear tbo wild refrain.
Wo daro not share the negro's tmst.
Nor yet hia hope deny j Wo only know that God is juat.
And every wrong sball die.
Rude seems tho song; each swarthy face,
Flame-lighted, rader still: Wo start to thiuk that hapless race
Must shape our good or ill j
That laws of changeless justico bind
Oppressor with oppressed; And, close as sin and sufiering joinod.
Wo march to Fato abreast
Sing on, poor hearta! your chant ahall be Onr sign of blight or bloom,—
Tho Vola-aong of Liberty, Or death-rune of our doom 1
The man tbat langhs ia a doctor without a aiploma. His face does more good in a sick room than a bnshel of poffders or a gallon of bitter draughts. People are alwaya glad to see him. Their hands inatiinctively go half way out to meet bis grasp, while they tam involnntarily from the clammy tonch of the dyspeptic, who speaks in the groaning key.— He laughs you out of yonr faults, while you never know what a pleasant world you are living in, nntil he points ont the sunny streaks on its pathway.
Wheu a person is very ill, he says " Qod has afflicted me;" but if be feela very happy, and very well, how rarely does he say "God has made me happy." How prone are we to tbinkQodisat burials, butnot at bridals; how prone to think God is in all that is dark, sepulchral and gloomy, but not in the midst of all tbat'is bright, giving it greater brightness and in all that is joyful adding to its intensity and its purily.
Perbaps gentlemen are rarer personages thau some of us tbink. Wbioh ot us oan point to mauy such in his circle ? Men wbose aims are generous, whose truth is constant, and not only constant in kind, but elevated in degree, whoae want of meanness make them aimple, who cau look the world honestly in the face, with an eqnal manly sympathy for tho great and small t Wo all know a himdred whose ooats are well made, and a score whohave ex¬ cellent manners, and one or two happy beings who are wbat they call in the Inner circle, and have ahot into the verj oentre and hull's eye of fashion; but ot gentlemen, how manyf Let ns take a little scrap of paper and eaoh make ont hia list."
Living was oheap enough in olden time. Socrates was supposed to have lived npon an income of seventy-live dollars; hut he lived worse than a slave. His ooat waa shabby, and he wore tho eamo garment wmter and aum¬ mer ; he went barefooted; his ohief food was bread and water; and aa he engaged in no hufiiness to mend his estatea or inoome, it ia not wonderful that his wife scolded. Hemes, thenes, hia siater and their mother, paid for their board $105 a year, and provided the house into the bargain.
TEE EABL ABD,JB8 SECHEIABT.
CH.^PTERI.
The ann waa ahining brightly through the lofty arohed wlsdowi of a large, old&ahloned llbni7 in one of thoie anoient baronial nan. aioiu that are to be met vith In almost every partof Bngland. It w«a a handaomey bat not a oheetfolToom. The celling w»a gorgeously painted, bat ita colora was mnoh subdued by time; the walls, of whioh but little oonld be seen between the olosely-iangad hook-oases^ seemed to be oovered with faded tapestry, and allthe fumltoie waa of maaaive carved oak. The heavy ohaira and aettees were cushioned with velvet that had once been crimson, bnt now waa more like sober brown; and the floor was oovered witha rich carpetassoftas velvet to the tread, bnt dark and dingy to look aU— In short, everything inthat spaoions apart¬ ment wore an all of departed gplendoi that was mebmoholr to behold:
Two peisona were sitting there engaged in some Uteraiy pnisnit, the one a gentleman of abont forty-five yeara, or somewhat more, per¬ haps; and the other a young man, whose pallid oheeks and thoughtful brow told of days given up to studious oocupatiOD. His features were of elasaic beanty,his eyes large, black, and Instrons, hia high white forehead waa orowned with a dense maaa of glossy hair, almost blaok and slightly cttrling,while a mona- taohe ofthe same hue ornamented his npper lip without concealing the well-formed month, which gave a rather proud expression to a ooimtenanoe stamped with the marks of a fine intelleot. He waa seated at atable oovered with booka and papers, and waa writing from the dictation ofhis superior, who oocupied a large fautenil in front of the fire, and held in hia left hand a note-book, to which he ocoa¬ sionally referred. Be waa a fine-looking man, not past the prime of life as regarded age, bat apparently suffering from the effects bf reoent Illness, for hia right arm hung powerless by hia aide as if paralysed, whioh, indeed, was the case, and it waa owing to this affliotion he had been obliged, for some months past, to em¬ ploy an amanuensis. After a while he closed his note-book, and aaid—
" Mr. Irvine, I shall now release yon for to¬ day. I have observed that you are not look¬ ing well; yon want more air and exercise. I fear I have exacted too mnoh from yoo."
"No, Indeed, my lord, lam not ill, I asaure yon; and my work is too interesting to be irksome."
Something approaching to a smile flitted across the pale, gravo face of the eail, like a faint gleam of lighfaiing, and then was gone, aa he replied—
" I am not looking for flattery, Mr. Irvine. Tonr Bervioes are valnable to me, and it is for my own eake as well aa yours that Ido not wlah to overtask your energiea. I therefore release yon for to-day, and I shall be glad if yon will dine with me at seven o'olock."
It was the first time thatLord Avondale had invited Mr. Irvine to dine at bis table, and the latter coloring with surprise, acknowledged tbe honor with a respectful inolination of the head—" Thank yon, my lord."
But altbongh he oonld not feel otherwise than gratified by suoh a mark of diatinction, he would, in point of faot, ratber have spent bis evening in a difi'erent manner, especially as the mtercourse between himself and his patron had never assumed the slightest shade ol familiarity, for Lord Avondale waa a man of reserved manners and retired habits—almoat a recluse; his whole time, and as it appeared, all his thougbta being devoted to the compil¬ ation of a voluminioua work on the arta and sciences of past ages. He was a single man, and had lived for many years quite secluded from the world, although be was rioh aud tbe owner of a noble domain.
It was generally believed that some esrly sorrow had cast a ahadow over hia existence, and giving bim that distaste for sooiety which oould hardly be natnral to one whose highly- cultivated mind, refined taates, and elegant manners were eminently calculated to adorn the sphere in whioh he was bom to move.— But all was mere conjecture, as nobody bad ever been admitted to his confidence, nor did his intimacies extend beyond an occasional visit of ceremony to one or two other mag¬ nates of tbe oonntry.
It was nearly six months sinoe a alight at¬ taok of paralyaia had deprived him oflbe use of hia right arm aud rendered him for a while inoapable of going on with the important work to which he had devoted aU his brilliant tal¬ ents; bnt as soon aa he was suffioiently le- oovered to take it up again, he made np his mind ratber reluctantly, to engage an assist¬ ant, and not wishing to have any oue abont him who was known in the oonntiy, he re¬ plied to an advertisement in the Tintes, and the resnlt was that Mr. Irvine came from Lon- and took up his abode in Grever Caslle.
Kennith Irvine was of an imaginative tnm of mind and freqnently indulged in specula¬ tion on the probable or possible canses of Lord Avondale's solitary life and the settled melaucholy that characterized not only his fine features, bnt the toue of his voice and bia whole demeanor.,.
Little, however, did the yonng seoretary suspect that be was himself the subject of musings eqnally profound on tbe part of tbe noble earl, neither was he conscious of being regarded in any otber light than that of a use¬ ful employee. He was, therefore, a little sur¬ prised at the anxiety now expressed by Lord Avondale respecting his healtb, bnt be as¬ cribed it rathei to the fear of an interruption to the work than to any personal regard for himself, and thonght no more ahont it.
As soon as he had left the room, the earl leaned back in his chair, and sighed deeply.
"I feel a strange interest in that yonng man," he said to himself. "Ifit were bu^ possible to attaoh him to me by purer ties than thoae of mere self-intereat, he might help fill the dreary void in my heart. But I suppoae he ia like the rest of the world, and wby should I expect it to bo otharwiao.or wby deaire it? Sinoe I have bome my burden for twenty yeara, I cau aurely bear it to the end. It ia the ouly atouemeut I can make for many errora, and I ought not to abrink from it."
While Lord Avondale was thus mediating, the young man had taken his hat and sallied forth tbrough the park into the road whioh led to the Utile vlllageof Wursley.
Kenneth exchanged greetings wilh several of tbemslios aa ha passed on hastily towards the chnrch, a arnall edifice of gray slone, seem¬ ingly of great antiquity, the mouldering walls being covered with ivy lhat must have been the growth of centnries. At a liltle distance from the church alood the parsonage-bonae, a very humble dwelUng, but not a comforllese one; for the vioar, thongh poor, had eaoaped tbe naual lot of his fraternity, ao many of whom are bowed down beneath the weight of their olive branches.
Mr. Sample who had boen a widower for aome yeara, had only one ohild, a danghter, now aeventeen years of age, and this faot might have something to do wilh Mr. Irvine's freqnent visits to the vicarage, for which he generally found a planaible pretext in request, ing the aid of the leamed minisler in transla¬ ting eome scrap of Greek or Hebrew for the work he was engaged upon.
A bright blosaom was Lilian Semple. Bom and reared in her .village home, she knew nothing of the great world beyond it; but, happy in her ignorance of the pomps and van¬ ities that create so muoh discomfort aa weU as false enjoyment, her heart was free from care, and her si^rit rejoiced in aU tbat was gladsome around her. A new light, however, bad lately shone npon her path that threw aU else inlo the shade. Not that ehe was lees happy, but her happiness had assumed a new character; it waa less associated with her simple daily avooatiooB and pleasnies than with a vision¬ ary futute that was all couletir de rose.
Irvine bad told her thathe loved her; he had sketched ont • brilliant prospect of for- , tune inths dlstaaoe,'which abe, inezpeilenoed
asshe wasin the wayaof the world, looked npon aa certain tobe realised.
All this was obvious to the worthy pastor, who pretty we'll guessed how mattera stood, and would rather baveseen.hlsLUy—asshe waa usnally called—inoUnlng her ear to the snit of yonng Hardy, tbe miUer'a son, who was wen to do In the world, and made no se¬ oret of his Bttaohment lo the parson's lovely danghter.
Lilian was iu the garden gathering a few fiowers to adom the only aitting-room the parsonage-house oonld boast, when Irvine pushed open the green gate, and in a moment was hy her side.
"I am so glad toflnd yon alone.dearLUian, for I have bnt a few minntes to stay with you to-day."
" Only a few minntes, Mr. Irvine f I thonght yon promised to spend the wbole evening wilh us."
" I did so, bnt it is impossible. Why do you oaU me ' Mr. Irvine,' LiUan f U you do, I shall go hack to ' Miss Semple.'"
"Oh, no—don't do that—I wUl always lay 'Kenneth'in fntnre; hnt why can yon not stay ?"
"Because Lord Avondale has aaked me to dine with him, and of conrse I must, although I would rather have come here as lintended." " Then yoo are a very foolish yonng man," said Mr. Sample, who at this moment came out of the honse, and heard Irvine's last words, "a very foolish yonng man, indeed— for, from what I know of his lordship, I shonid say this is a mark of favor almost unprece¬ dented, and I thhik I may fairly congratulate you npon snch an evident proof of the high place you must have gained in his estimation." "I believe you are right, sir," said Irvine, as be shook hauds wilh the good clergyman; " bnt I am no philosopher, yon see, and am apt to feel diaappointed at the loss of an anti¬ oipated pleasnre, whatever may be the advan¬ tage offered in exchange. Besides, to confess the truth, I oannot help standing in awe of a tetea-tete dinner with Lord Avondale; how¬ ever, I snppoae I shall get throngh withit, and, at any rate, it will give me an opportunity of forming some idea of his social qaalitles, whioh twenty years of library experience would not do."
"I am doubtful abont that," Mr. Semple repUed. " I have dined twice with his lord¬ ship witbin tbe last five yeara, bnt on neither occasion did I obtain any farther insight inlo his charaoter than I possessed before, nor was I on any more intimate terms with him after- waids than if no such thing had happeued.— However, il may be different wilh yon, and considering your relative positions, this invi¬ tation certainly shows a disposition in yonr favor that cannot be otherwise then beneficial to you."
While tbis conversation was proceeding, LiUan went on outting her Sowers, but lislen¬ ing attentively to every word; hut there was not much more said on the snbject, for, as tbe vicar did not mauifest any signs of au inten¬ tion to leave the yonng people to themselves, Mr. Irvine very soon took bis leave. CHAPTER II. The dinner proved a less formidable afiair than the yonng Seoretary had expected. Tbe subject of conversation was geueral literature, a wide field wherein he felt qnite at homo, and it was evident tbal Lord Avondale waa pleased both witb the extent of bis informa¬ tion and tbe liberality of his views.
After the deasert waa placed on the table, and the servants bad withdrawn, the noble hoat, having filled hia own glass, and puahed the decanter towards Irvine, aaked him where he waa educated, and whether he had boen brought np for any particular profeaaion.
It was tbe first lime he had asked auy ques¬ tions bearing upon the yonng man's bislory, and tbey were not very easy questions to answer, as tbere were many points in it he did not wish to make known, and being thus taken by surprise had no time to consider how mnch he should tell, or how much to leave unlold.
A few moments' consideration made him deoide to communicate aa Uttle as possible witbout seeming lo elude inquries tbal, he was conaoions. Lord Avondale wonld never have troubled himaelf to make of any one he waa wbolly indifierent about. He therefore briefly stated tbat, being left an orphan at an early age, ho was brougbt up by a distant re¬ lation at Bdinburg, a single man, of good properly, who had always expressed an inten¬ tion lo make bim bis heir, and had sent him to the Univeraity at Aberdeen, wilh a view of filling him either for tbe bar or tbe medical profession ; bul before he had been the fuU term at college, his protector died snddenly withont a will—at least, tbere was no wilj found—and aU he had posaeased went to rela. lives, who made out a belter claim in law than hia own, so that he was left qnite desti¬ tute.
" Have you any reaaon to doubt hia inten¬ tion of making a wiU in yonr favor !"
" None whatever, my lord. I had always been treated as his son, and am quite snre he meant to leave the whole of hia property to me, uor do I believe that he was a man to put off to the lasl momeni the settlements of his affairs."
" You mean to say yon believe there was a will and that il has beeu oonoealed or des¬ troyed f"
" I do, my lord; but I was helpless in tbe matter. I had no doonments to sapport my pretentions, and was thrown eniirely ou my own resources. Not baving the meaus of re¬ maining at tbe University, I went to London, and obtained au engagement as assistant in a aohool, but I found that kind of life so unsuit¬ ed to me that I determined to try for something better, and my very first atlempt was happily successful."
" You are aatiafied, then, with your present employment ?" ¦'Perfeotly ao, sir."
" Have yon auy near relations, Mr. Irvine 1"
" Not any, my lord, tbal I know of."
"If I am not miatakeu, yon frequently
visit tbe vicarage at Wursley. Do you go
there witb any idea of forming suoh liea f"
The yonng man colored deeply, and his
lips quivered a little, as he repUed without
hesitation—
" Yes, my lord, I do." Not another word waa said for some min¬ utes, and wben Lord Avondale agam spoke it was on qnile a different snbject.
Irvme oonld not sleep that night for Ihmk- ihg of this remarkable episode of hia life.— Tbe last thing in tbe world he wonld have dreamed of, perbaps, waa that hia reserved^ unbending patron sbouid bestow a thonght on his affairs, especially as oonoemed his heart's affeotions. Did it anger good or ill!
Tbe next moming had passed aa nsnal, and Irvine had dined at two o'olock, as waa his ordinary castom, aud retnmed . to tbe library to resume his labors ; but he had scarcely dipped his pen in the ink, when a servant eutered the room, and said a woman was in the hall who desired to see Mr. Irvine immediately.
" You should have told her lhat I am en¬ gaged," said Mr. Irvine, looking very muoh annoyed.
" I did, Mr. Irvine ; but she Bays she must Bee yon. She speaks like a Scotchwoman." " Then bo so good as to ask her name and busineas, and teU her to come early in the morning.'* The man bowed and left the mom. " Pray go now, Mr. Irvme, if yon wish to do BO," said Lord Avondale, with a sUght degree of irrilaiion in his tone.
" I think, my lord, it can Boaroely be of anffl- oient importance, and I am Borry yon should be troubled by any auoh vexatious intermp- lion."
Lord Avondale made no reply, bnt sat with his eyes fixed on his note-hook, looking any¬ thing bnt pleased, so that Irvine fett eztiems- ly uncomfortable until the man retnmed.
"WoUKobeitt"
"She aayaJ! evening. Hi. II
the annonnceil when to his echoed by Loii. seat, and gaz
h-^
NO. 11.
ib»,iigoiia«ff tt.Sootland this
(yine; aiot innst B'ee yon first.—
She wUl not t^jll me what she wants, bnt her
namo, sbe sayi, is Oiace MaoDoyle."
" Giaoe ICat^ Poyle I" lepeated onr hero, as if
'ient was unwelcome to hiaeais;
Igieat snipilse, the name was
i Avondale, who rose from hla
bg wildly on the young man,
who also aioB^ exolaimed in a loud voice—
" Grace MaeDoyle I Where does she come
from? Whal'haveyon to do withber?"
" Not jhnohjl my lord. I believe she was my nurse—but I have only her own Btatement for it, and anapeot I have very little lo thank hei foi."
" Where d(j|Bfl she say she" nursed you— was it in the Isle of Bute ?"
" Yes, my lord—at Eothsay," lopUed Irvine, wbose aatonisjiment was every moment in¬ creaaing, for Ljird Avondale now tnmed lo the setvaut, and ijfUd, in a hnnied, agitated man¬ ner— ji " Bring tbe ivoman here inatantly—I muat
see her myael: jl Oh, if thia shonid be "
"What ia it, my lord?" aaid Irvine, ap. preaching nea rei to him. " Why does the name of this ifoman agitate you thua ?"
" Ask me ni>thing, Iivme, tiU I have con- fionted hei. iYon know not—oh, yon oannot know the agoijy I am suffering I"
The sonnd ojF footsteps now made him tum his eyea eageijly towaid the doot, whioh waa lathei abrapll{r opened by the same man that biongbt the iJiessage, who nshuied in.a taU, gaunt female, jinveloped in a large, coarse, gray | cloak, with a ijood whioh, heing thrown back, gave a fnll view of her featttres.
The momenjl her eyes met those of Lord Avondale, she'uttered a fatal ory, and hesita¬ tingly drew t^je hood over het face; but he had recognize^iher, and as sbe stood trembling with fear, he aaid, sternly—
" I need not'ask if yon rememeber me, for I see that yon d;^"
" I dinna ken, my laird—I bae nae sic gude memory. Wns your lordship aye in bonnie Dundee ?"
"It isuselafs lo trifle with me, woman- yon wUl gain!nothing by subterfuge. Yon knew me at B(i(hsay as Captain Douglas."
The woman!thus addressed waa evidently much frightenjid; stiU she hesitated and Beam¬ ed about to dwy any recoUeotion of the oir- cnmatanoe aUijded to, when Lotd Avondale Btopped het ijy exclahning, in a voioe of tbuudet—
" If yon attiimpt to deoeive me, yon must look fot no mtjroy at my hands. Answor at once, and withont evasion—is this yonng man my son ?" ;
Irvine was electrified. He absolutely gasped for breath, audi listened for the answer as if Ufe or death lijnng upon the next words that were to meet jfls ear. Bnt Inatead of reply¬ ing to the astoj|nding qnestion jnst pnt to her, the woman felj' on her knees aud began to im- ploiepity andjbigiveneas, wilnging her hands, and proleatinjj that she never meant harm either to his birdship or to the young gentle¬ man himself. <
Taking no t^eed of this, the earl again de¬ manded, wilhja more threatening aspect than before— " Woman, \i IhiTmy son ?" His tono, h^B looks, tertifled her into the admissiou that "lhe yonng geutlemau was Captain DongljfB' baim."
" And I hopji yonr lordahip wUl forgie me," she continuedjj "as how oonld I know lhat Captain Dongliis waa yonr lordship's ainsel." But Lord Avondale heard hei not, fot he had sprung toward Irvine, and folded him in his arms ^fith inchoherent expressions of tenderness, wliolly regardless of the presence of tbe BervantJ'who was so lost in astonish¬ ment at Ibis eitlraordinary scene, lhat he had forgolten the ijnpropriety of lomaining in the room, and stocfl gazing first al one, then al the otber iu mute'wonder.
At length he was recalled lu himself by a movement on :the part of Grace UacDoyle, who nad risen froqf her supplicating posture, and waa Blealthilyiiinitling the apartment; but he interposed to prevent her exit saying, in rath¬ er a lond key-;- " My lord, ii| this peraon to go f" " Certainly not. Eemove herfiom my aight for the pieseiijt, bnt take care that she doea not eacape. I will oonalder what I shall do with her."
The man, tl|iuking perbaps she would make a rush, seized light hold of her arm, and led her away, nor did sbe offer any resiatanoe ; bnt aa soon as they reaohed the hall, sbe drew a leather bag t^om her pookel, aud took there¬ from a pieoe of money.
" Now my lonnie man, I will gie ye thia gowden gnineu gin ye will jnat open that door and let me gailg freo."
" 0, that's yonr game, is il?" was the reply of tbe trusty captor. "I wouldn't let yon go free for twentj; goldon guineas, for it seems to me you'ts a wioked witch, tfaat has kept a father and son from commg togother for all these many iQpg years. Your gold wouldn't do anybody miioh good, I'm thinking. No, no; don't think to come over me like that. Yon go in there, aii4 bide liU my lord makes up his miud whalj to do with you. He'U have you hanged I iibouldn'twonder, and serve yon rigbt too."
With this ciimfortable prediction he pushed her into a smtiU room, wbete tbeie wete no meaus of eaoaj^e, locked the dooi, then went to conunnniosite the wondetfnl news to his feUow Beivanta.
Abont an h^ni bad elapsed when he was again summoiied to the Ubrary and deaired to bring his prisi{ner back. She entered theroom wilh a very pinilent look, and repeating her entreaties for pardon, waa told her only chance of obtaining i| was lo make a fuU confesaion of her gnilt, iiihich ahe promiaed to do with¬ oat conoeaUnj; tbe leaat circumslance. Her alory was toldj iu a very disjoined manner but its substtinoe was this :—It seemed lhat Lord Avondale, some three or four and tweuty years back, u:;ider the name of Captain Dong- las, had, for leasons that will hereafter be ex¬ plained, takeij hia yonng wife to Eothsay, and lodged her in the house of a widow named MoDoyle, wh^rs Bhe gave birth to a son, the said Mrs. Mci)oyle undertaking to uurse her Ihrongh her (onfinement. A short time after tbe event too^k place the hnaband waa obliged lo leave Sodtland, and the first news lhat reaohed him {jras that his wife had beenseized with a fever ijud died, leaving the babe to the cate of the njirse, who wrote to the afflicted father, prom^fing to devote her whole atlen¬ tion to the inifant oharge. A snm of money waBimmediaielyaenttoher, with strict in¬ junctions to ipare nothing tbat might oontri¬ bute to the 0 iUd's weU-doing, and for the firet three months she faithfnlly performed her duty; bnt at the ei^l of this time anolher larger le- mittanoe canip from the father, aooompanied by the Infoin [ation lhat he was going abroad fora yeai, atjtbe expiiation of wbich he should telum lo Eolfisay foi his Ultle boy.
Aasnied ofj his long absence, and tempted hy the moneJi,sbe lesolved lo tid herself of the chUd, if possible; and with that view look it to Edinburg, i^nd on a dark night .placed it in a basket at tj|e door of a gentleman of fortune named Irvinp, who waB famed for his benev- olenoe, and h^ing a single man, she thonghl waa likely toiprovide fot it. The event an¬ swered her e i:pectations. Ml. Iivine, legard- less of the sq ^ndal that was suie to arise from Bnch proceed jng took in the fonndUng, order¬ ed that a nni^e should be provided for him, in his own ha use, and deolaied that, aa chance had thrown b bia way an object on whioh to fix his affecti ns, he ehonld cettalniy accept the gift, and lok npon the child as his son.
"The Lote knowa," continued the culprit, " I wonldn't I have hutt a hait of ita head, pnii baim, b It I knows he wss weel cated for and aa the li 9y was dead, I thonght the Cap¬ tain would t ^ a' bettet lo be freed from sic an encnmbiaom t"
''" How dai ^ yon offer mean excase?" said UiiAvoadite. "VUIappeuto tejoloe In
snoh freedom when I came to Bothsiiiy to claim my son Mid yoa told me he was dead f»
" I canna say yon did, my lord. You were in stir troable, bull could na teU ye different tion, and I had spent the BiUei.- Gin I had known it hae made ye aae soirow- fu' I wonld ne'ei bae dnne it."
She the:a went on to say that, healing of the boy from time to time, and flnding that he was to be Mt. Itvine's belt, beiconidenoe was attest, as ahe made no donbt his own father had become teconclled tohis loss, and was probably matried again. When Mt. Itvine diei she had ptesented herself to the yonng man, beUeving he had inherited the properly, and impOEed on himwith a tale of how be faad been left on her bands a destitute orphan, and she bebig too poor lo maintain him her¬ self had contrived and executed the plan that threw him upon the proteotion of his benefac¬ tor. She was greatly disappointed, she s^d, at heating that Mr. Irvine hsd died wiihout making a wiU, and that his adopted son was left nnprovided for; but when she found that he waa Uving withLoid Avondale, she thonght he must be bettet off, and that it wonld be no harm to ask him fot a little asaistance.
" And now, my lotl, that I have made a olean hieast, and that ye hae got yont baim baok, and he is no dlsgtace, but a otedit to ye,
I hope ye wiU fotgie a puit body, that meant nae UI, for by the takljig of the siUet, whioh waa nae muckle otime aftet aU, seeing the baim got mail fta his now parent."
The Bail, notwithstanding bis wtath, oonld scatcely fotbeat smiling at this ingeniona mode of justifying so flagtant an act of dishonesty; bnt he matotained s severe aspeot, teUlng hei that she nmst at any tale be kept a ptisonei lUl the nsxt day, when ehe must make hot deposition befoie a maglstiale, in order lo establish his Bon'a identity; then dismissing het from hiB piesenoe, he gave himself np to the exqusite happiness that had so unexpect¬ edly been vooohsafed to him. CHAPTEE in.
Mt. Sample enteted the parlot of his humble domicile, and seated himself at a table wbete LUian waa engaged in making prepaiations for the tea. He looked vety serions, and was mote silent than usual, answering only in monosylables tb his danghtei's obseivations. At length he said—
"Lilian, I have not been blind to the mo¬ tives of Mv. Irvme's ftequent visits, although be has nevet spoken to me in dltect tetms; and as I thonght well ofbim. I have not dia¬ couraged his views. Howevet, I am Boiry now thete bas been so much inleiconiBe ; and I hope, my love, it wUl not make yon very un¬ happy if he should oome hete no more."
"Come here no mote?" repeated LiUan, family. "Why not, dear father ? Is he gone?"
" No, my child, he is not gone ; bnt a great change hus laken place—we are no longer npon an equality. An extraordinary dlacov¬ ery has besn made thifl day—a disoovory that raises Mr. Iivine far above onr sphere in life— he is Lord Avondale's lawful son and heir."
Poor Lilian was ntterly overwhelmed by this startling inieUigence. Her eyes fiUed with tears, and hi a faltering voice sbe asked—
" Who lold you this, faiher ? Cau it poasi¬ bly be truo ?"
Mr. Semple related the particnlars aa he had juat heard tbem from one of Lord Avondale's own people, and when he had finished the re- cUal, Lilian said—
" Father, he asked me to be his wife; he was going to speak to you the nexl time he came here. Do yon think so ill ot him as to believe lhat any change of fortnne would cause him to break hie word and leoaU tbe solenm ptomiae ho has made!"
" I do not think iU of him, my dear child, bnt he is not the same person to-day that be was yesterday, and we mnst nol expect lhat an engagement entered mto by Lord Avon- dale's seoretary wiU ba fnlfiUed by bis son."
"Oh, father, for his sake, I will try to be glad,', said poor Lilian, in a tone that did not sonnd much like.'gladness.
Trying to be glad is bnt aorrowful work al best. AU that evening her eats were strained to oatch the sonnd of footstepa that came nol, and when the hour fof test airived, she went to bed with tearful eyes and a heart saddened by disappointment.
On tbat same evening Kenneth Itvine, wbose tme style and title was Oswald, Lord Roden, was listening lo bia fatber'a hiatory, an intereating recital, tbal ocoopied a conside-* rable liaie in telling, bnt of whiob a brief out¬ line will suffice :for the elucidation of tbis story.
The lato Lord Avondale had three sons, of whom the present earl, then Lord Roden, was the eldest. The fatfaer was a member of the Sootlifih chnroh, and a strict adherent to tbe rigid observances of tbat faith. A slem eu- thnsiaat on points of religion, he imposed such severe restraints on his ohildren tbal tboy re¬ belled iu aecret, and, unknown to him, in¬ dulged in gayeties foibidden by tbe Puritani¬ cal dootiinea he mainlained, whioh, by injudi- oions coercion, they had been led to ridicule as fanaticism. Slill tbe fear of being disin- herUed kopt them from avowing their real sentiments, and although tbe earl waa by no means satisfied with tbe amonnt of zeal dis¬ played in the cause, he never suspeuted they were altogether aUenated from it.
Sueh was the stats of things whon Lord Roden, at the age of twenty-three, went to viait an eatate hia father had pu.-ohased in Ire¬ land, and durbig his BOjoum in that country, he beoame deeply in love witb the danghter of a Catholio nobleman, wbo, for certain reasons oonnooted wilh family affaira, waa abont lo aend her to a convent, wilh the intenliou of oblig¬ ing ber ultimately to lake the veU. She waa not more than eighteen, and being extremely beantlful aawell as lively and accompUahed, it waa no wonder tbat her heart revolted against a life of seclusion, eveu while it was free from lhat soft passion wbioh makes the wotld doub¬ ly dear; bnt when she had listened to Lord Roden'a ardent avowal of lovo and given him her affeotions iu return, the ololstet was not only distasteful but abhorrent to her thoughts, and sbe consented to fiy with him to Scotland, where they were married, acoording to the Scottish laws which at tbal time made Buch a marriage legal. Concealment being equaUy necessary on both sides, the yonng nobleman took his bride to Eothsay, wbere they lodged in tbe bouse of Grace MacDoyle as Captain and Mrs. Douglas, and spenl nearly a twelve¬ month iu perfect happtoess. Lord Avondale beUeving lhat his son waa making a tonr of the highlands.
At length a ohild was bom, who was chris- tened Oswald, and shortly afterwards Lord Eodenwas obliged to go to London on account of his fathet, whose health had been for some time on the deolme, and was now so bad lhat
II was thought Improbable he would survive many montbs.
"To have revealed my mairiage then," continued the eatl, "wouldhave been woiae than useless.
I saw that I should soon become my own mastet, when I inight aoknowledge my wife and ohild withont feat of the consequences; but hefore tbat houi airived, I received from Grace MaoDoyle the fatal inteUigence thst I was a widower. I cannot describe the agony I felt—it was beyond all dlagolse; bnt as my father was then neat his end, and eveiybody attributed my grief tohis approaching dissolu¬ tion, and he had hlmsalf no Busplclon as to any othet oanse. After his death, I resolved lo spend a year on the Continent, for I conid not bear the thought of levisiting the soene of my brief period of bapplness; therefore, I provid¬ ed, aa I believed, for my boy's welfare during my absence by sending money to the wonian MacDoyle, with strict injunctions to take cate of him till they retnm. How she abused that trust we now both know. I went bsck to Eothsay at the end of a year, as Captain Dong- las, to claim my chUd, and was told that he was dead. Bitterly did I then reproach my¬ self for having left him theie among Btnugets, and from that time op to OJi day I hare sued
fotsotbing'On eatth. My bnthere who had entered Uie urmy have both fallen since in battle, and I have lived here a miaerable and a Bolitaiy man."
It was late that night when the fathei and sou separated, foi both were too'muoh exoited by ths eventa 01 the day to feel any inclina¬ tion fot sleep.
Oswald oonld aoaroely beUeve he had not been dreaming, bnt his happiness waa not withont aUoy. He waa laisad from poveily to affluence, from humble obscurity to exalted tank, and, mote than aU, he had found a fathei he oonld bolh love and lespect; yet there waa one anxiety ptoBsfaig on hia mind, one dtawbaok to his joy. WTiat would Lord Avondale say now about his visits to the par¬ sonage ?
" He knowa that I love hot,'' he said to him¬ self, "and to-motiow BhaU terminate this wretched Buspense ; bnt ifhe shonid forbid it, what then?"
These thoughts kept bim awake the whole night, so that when he entered the breakfast room in the moming he looked pale and un¬ refreshed.
Lotd Avondale was thete awaitiug him. He was already an altered man—so mnch allered that Oswald waa atartled at the change.
"Bnt what is the mattet ?" said his loid- abip. "I am afraid you .ate not very weU satiafied wilh your tranaformation. Yon oet- tamly looked happiei yesterday as Kennith Irvine than yon do to-day as Lotd Roden."
" Nay, deal fathet, yon cannot suppose I am so ungrateful. This unlooked-for change in my destiny kept me from sleepmg, lhat is aU."
" Are yon sure that is aU," said Lotd Avon- dale, with a more serious aii. " Let us have no concealment, Oswald. There mnst be pei- fect confidence between me and my son.—
Howevet we wUl bteakfasi now, and discuss this mattet aftetwaids."
Oswald sat dowu at the table with vety Uttle appetite, for he dreaded the conference that was to ensue, yel he oould not be insensible to the agreeable obange in his position, of whioh he was constanlly reminded by the ex¬ treme deference of the servanta, aud the novel¬ ty of being addressed as "my lord.''
It was a lelief to him wheu the meal was ended, and his fathor led the way to tbe Ubra¬ ry, where he at onoe enteted on the subjeot that was eugtosslng the tbonghts of both, by saying, abmptly—
" I petceive there is some anxiety ou your mind, and from a oommnnioation you made to me two days ago, I suppose I can guess what it is. You have got yourself into diffi¬ culty, and do not olearly see your way ont of il. Am I not right ?"
"If you mean my engagement lo Miss Semple "
" Yes, lhat is what I mean. Of course, nn¬ der theae oircumstanoes, you will deaire to break that engagement ?"
" Pardon me my lord—I do not desire lo break it. My uneasiness arises from a very different cause. It is the fear of your disap¬ proval, not auy ohange in my own senliment, that makes me anxioua, aud preventa, me I own, fromfeeUug as happy aa I ought lo feeL"
Lord Avondale did not reply for some min¬ utes, butpresaiug his bandon his brow, aeemed lo mediate. Al length he aaid—
" My dear Oswald, you have not yet had lime to realiae your preaeni poaition and the new proapeota it opena before you. Aa my aecrelary, tbe daughter of the vioat of Wnrsloy was a fitting matoh fot you; but as Lotd Koden aud holt to a peetage, yon may ally youtself with some of the noblest familiea of the king¬ dom. I shaU ehow myself in the world now,, and you wiU be introduced inlo sociely where yont will meet with beautiful, acoompUshed, and high-botn women, who will aoon leach you to forget this simple couutry girl.
" Never I" exclaimed the young man witb energetic warmth.
"Sbe is nol high-bom, il is tme ; nor, in tbe fashionable aense of tbe world, accomplished; bnt she is ba^ntifal and amiable—sbe has all the virtuea tbal are requisite to grace a cornet and I love^her witb deep aud truthful affeotion tbat can nover change.''
" Tben I am to understand lhat yon wonld marry her, even thoagh il were oontrary to my wishes."
" Not so, my lord. If it be yonr command tbat I shoald cease lo tbink of Lilian aa my future wife, I will obey; but in ao doing I aaorifice much of my happiness, aud bring an everlasting cloud over the bright sunshine that has so suddeuly aud unexpectedly thrown a new ligbt upon my existence."
"Your sunshine sbaU never be clouded by mo, Oswald," said his fatfaer, holding out bis haud, whioh the young man pressed to his lips in a transport of joy and gratitude.
" If you are sure ofyonr own heari, my dear aon, act according ';to its dictates. Yon have my full permission to do so. Semple is a very excellent man, and, as I have myself some patronafte in the church, and more influence than I bave ever cared to exert, we mnst man¬ age to make a dean of him, thatthe world may bave no room to cavil al yout cboice ; and if, by-and-bye, a bishopric sbouid fall in the way, wby so much the betler."
GOOD HIGHT.
Day haa passed! Stars havo set their watch nt lasl. Founts that through the deep wooda flow, Mako sweot sounds unheard till now, Flowera havo abut with fading light- Good nigbt!
Go to rest! Sleop sit, dove-Uke, on tby breast! If witbin tho secret eell One dark form of memory dwell, Be it mantled from thy sight.
Good night!
Joy be thino! Kind looka o'er thy slumbers shine ! Go, and in the spirit land. Meet tby home*s long parted hand. Be their eyos all love and light—
Good Night!
Poace to aU 1 Dreams of beavon on mourners fall! Exile! o'er thy couch may gleam. Pass from tbine own mountain streams! Bard! away to worlds more bright 1
Good night?
A good-lookiug-fellow was arraigned before Court oharged with havmg stolen a watch. It was his flrst error, and be was ready to plead gnilty. The Judge addressed him in very gentle tones, asking him what indnced him to commit the theft. Tho yonng man repUed that, having been unweU for some lime, the dootor advised him lo take something, which he aooordmgly did. The Jndge was tathei pleased wilh the humot of the thing, and asked him what had led him to Beiect a walch. « Why," said the ptisonei," I Ihought if I only had tha time, that nature would work a oure I"
At a cotmtry training, where the mUitaiy spirit was not the most active, bnt one piivate leaponded to the captain's call to " fall in." " Now, look hete, cap'n," says he," you may match and oonnteimarob me as muoh as you dam please; hut wheu you oome to cutting me up into aections and platoons, I'U desert, rank and file, hang me 'f I don't."
Why are two yonng ladies kissing each olber, an emblem of Cbrisliauily ? Because they are doing nnto each other aa they would men should do unto them.
Wby is a good cook like a woman of faah¬ ion ? Because she drosses well.
Bebels, Uke firewood, should ba meaauted , by the cord.
Why ia the wind Uke an intemperate man? —Because it often gets high. 1 Why is the tree that beats no fruit as good i as the one that does ?—Because they are both ' bearhi' (barren).
Why is lighting the gas for a lady like helping her from a cutisge t—Becanse we aasiat hei to a-Ught. .1
¦' [Ftom the N.T.'Metbodiit]
A STOEY FOE THE IITTLE FOLKS. The Summer Vacation,
" I mean to have a glorions time this vaoa¬ tion," said Charlotte Brown, as she walked
in the pleasnre.gronnd^of Instituto, with
bet aim round the waiit of het favorite class¬ mate, Fanny Stnyaen.
" What do you inlend to do ?" aaked Fanny. . "Ohl evetythhig. I'U make pa take me to Saratoga or Newport some of the time ; and then ru make a visit to uncle Henry's- they're just oome home from Bnrope, snd are fuU of Parisian gayety and London style; and what time I epend at home I'U fin np with horse-ridtog, and carriage-ridhig, andpionlos, aud evening parties ; so that, by the time I come back to school, I sbairhave had enough of pleasure to last me untQ Christmas."
"Verynioe," said Fanuy, "yon wiU, iu¬ deed, have a glorions time."
"And how WiU you enjoy yourself?" aaked Charlotte.
" I don't know" was tbe short reply, and the oonversation ended.
'What a common auswer " I don't kuow" is and how seldom it meana what it says I It generally meana: "I do know, bnt don't want to lell." It is, therefore, tmthless, and those who nse it in thia sense are gnUly of falsehood every time they used it. Fanny Stnyaen knew, aa well as one can know what is in the fuiure, how Bhe shonid spend the ensuing va¬ cation; but het holiday enjoyments would not be of a fashionable or expensive charactet, so she did not oate to recount tbem. Sbe prefeired stooping lo nnlmth.
It was a large, Bubataulial, old fashioned farmhonse to whioh Fauny reiurned wheu her aohool tetm cloaed ; and the young gill's fitst thought as she appioached it was the difference between het plain, unpretending home, snd the elegantly decorated manslou whioh should receive Charlotte Brown the same-day. Sbe had never seeu Charlotte's residence—her impression of its style and beauty was merely from description; yet the the impression waa vivid enough to supply her with a striking contrast to overylhing within and aronnd her father's honse.
Her father, himaelf, came lo meet her al the depot, and evinced the fondest joy at sight ofher, bnl eveu as Bhe received his warm, welcoming embrace, her eyea glanced at his hotrely rockaway and coarse team, and sbe thought of the gay carriage and shining horses wbich would meet Charlotte, and she could scarcely repress a sigb.
" Here ahe is I bere sbe is I shouted tbe litlle brothers, who were watching for the rockaway, and mamma rau to the door to kiss her daughter as she entered. Fanny threw herself with real affection inlo the lovii>g arms; but at the momeni, her mental eye oangbt a gUmpae of iCbarlolte's silken robed motber, and tears of mortification fell upon the colton gown of her best friend.
The anpper-table was spread extra nice tfais evening in faonor of Fanny's telum, and cheer¬ ful good-natnie sat on every face. Mr. Stny¬ aen kept piling good ttings on his daughter's plate, and oalling hia wife's attention to the genteel appetite of tha school-girl; while the boya langhed and aaid aister wonld eat heartily now lhat afae was at home, wUh no atudiea to tronble ber. Fanny smiled, and tried to seem pleased witb the loving attentions lavished on her; whUe Bbe was inwardly busy piolnring the evening scene iu Chariotte's faome—tfae Inxnriona parior lit with oostly lamps, the table adomed with shining silvei, and the dainty repast.
Next day Jane and Willy, two cousins who Uved at abont a mile distance, came to see Fanny and welcome her home. Tfaey were in faigh spirits, aud full of plans for the holidaya ; and Tommy and George, Fanny'a brotbers, entered joyously into their gay anticipations ; tbe happiness of the group communicated it^ self to Fanny'a heart, which begau lo glow with pleasnre, bnl then oame tbe thought of Charlotte's cousins, just oome bome from " Enrope," " fnU of Parisian gayety and Lon¬ don atyle," and her own homeapnn kindred with tbeir rnatic enjoymeota looked ao mean in comparison that abe conid scarcely conceal her disgust.
Her young companions were slow to per¬ ceive that their sports were nol affording as muoh pleasnre lo Fanny as to themselves; they therefore oontinned to arrange new froUcs for each day, wilh the speoial object of giving amusement to tfae acbool-girl.
One day it was a berry ing party to the wood. They were provided with a nioe lunch, and carried to the entry of tho wood in a large farm ¦ wagon. Tbia wagon-ride was great fun to the little company, who langbed and sung, and told merry stopies all along the road. Fanny waa called upon to recount aomo of tbe recre¬ ations at school; but her mind waa occapied in sketching a faahionable pic-nic parly, such as Charlotte wonld, perhaps, be partaking in, anl sho oould scarcely rouse herself to reply to the gay appeal.
Arrived at the bright, ^reen wood, through wfaose thick foliage the strong sunbeams could not penetrate; tbe young folks spmng from tbe wagon and rushed into tbe grateful shade where lhey could run, and leap, and play, to tbeir hearts' coutent. Willy took Fanny's hand, for a rnn, be said; and before she could resist he was fleeing among tbe trees, dragging her, aimosl breathless, after faim, unlil, in passing a clump of bushes, her dress got lorn, and then he cast bimself on the green earth and bnrat ont laughing.
" I don't like sucb rough play," said Fanny pettishly. Willy immediately became grave, and remarked:—
"Wby, you're nol balf as lively as you used to be, Fanny. I'll ask uncle not to send you to that dull school any more."
"Ohl it'a not tho school," sfae replied.— "I'm as lively aa ever; bnt I'm older, yon know, and uot qnite as wild."
Willy did know that sbe was older; bul ao was he, aud so waa Jane, and so were all his yonng friends, yel their spirits were as lighl as ever. Tbat somelhing hai damped Fanny's cheerfulness was plain, whether she admitted il or not, and ajie must be dealt tenderly with—affer a while, perhaps, her gayety would retum. So, the boy arose, and said gently;—
" Well, we'll not run if you don'l like il— we'll pick berries, and play at anything yon ploase." And tho day was spent in doing whatevet Fanny pleased; and Fauny tried to seem pleased, tfaongfa she was nol, for all tbe time oame visions of aristocratic parties au^ elegant amusements in which Charlotte bore a bappy patt.
When haying-time camo, tbe young people expeoted great fun, and Fanuy was reminded how muoh sho uaed lo enjoy the diveralon.- She remembered il bnt did nol anticipate en¬ joyiug il now; however, ahe went wilh them and looked on, aa they raked and leased the ripe grass, and helped load the wagons laugh- mg and shonting the while. She walked about, aud tried to wear a smUing face; bnt tbe sun waa hot, and het patasol gave bet but little sheltet, and tbe arom'a of the new-made hay was a farm odor, and she thought of the shady walks aud the delioate peifume of ex¬ otic plants in the gatdens wbere Chailotte was now, doubtless, Inxuiiatuig.
Tbe blight mid-sommet holidays passed Blowly enongh with Fanny Stuysen. The good old homestead, with all ils life and eheet wasduUtohei. Eveiything gol np fot hot amusement failed. She joined in the meity- maklng, aud iningled in the games of simple miith; bnt it was with cold and fotmal move¬ ments ; het heatl was away In the ptond scenes which Chailotte Brown had deacribed as compoaing the "gloiious time" of hot vacation.
There was not as much regret as there might have been among the Stuysen yonng folks when Fanny's hoUdays diew to sn end. Bhe had neithei been happy not made othen •0. Home had not aeemed Uks home to btr;
and the aiiSple bonntqr pleainies; ii' "wlilch she had bee^ tued toidznrlate, had failed to interest her. 'Her {aiully' bad been disapi- poUited in the joy they had ezpeotfld ftom her visit; and, when she left to ratntn to school, then wete: fewer teats on eith^ aide than had evei been shad on a Uks oooaaloii before.
Fanuy antioipated inuch entertainment on het reunion with her friend Cbailot |
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