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having got some distance from home, To the eternal honour of the Yankee his black companion, who probably had farmer, he did not take advantage of his from the first suspected the farmer's mutilated adversary as he lay on the intentions, suddenly faced about, closed ground bleeding and helpless. His foe with him, and wrenched the gun from was at his feet, and a single blow of
his hatchet might have inflicted the Ward uttered
cry of alarm as the coup de grace, and revenged the death negro cocked the gun and raised it to of his faithful dog; but Ward was a his shoulder, but fortunately the triggers brave man-he made the poor wretch, were not set, and the farmer rushed whom he had overpowered, promise not behind a tree at a few yards distant. to quit the spot, and then hastened in Here he waited until the negro had search of assistance. When he refired; and as the contents of the second turned, the negro was gone; but the barrel rattled against the tree, the farmer carcass of his trusty dog, the ground drew his hunting hatchet and rushed torn up as though it had been the scene upon his antagonist.
of a bull fight, and the bushes beThe black was not unprepared :-he sprinkled with blood, attested the had concealed about him a large violence of the struggle. butcher's knife, which he quickly pro- “ There was as much blood on the duced, and a fierce struggle imme- ground,” said those who visited the diately ensued. Both were powerful spot, “as if some animal had been men, and the combat was for life or
B. Q. T. death. As they closed on each other, Ward's dog sprung upon the negro,
ON A COLOURED TILE, who had not perhaps calculated on this addition to his antagonist's strength; but Which I plucked up from the Pavement of he resolutely continued the combat, and at length dispatched the faithful animal
(For the Parterre). by a skilful stroke on the neck. The negro had freed himself from
1. one of his enemies; but Ward, enraged Rich impress of the clay, the fragile clay, at the loss of his faithful dog, fought
To which thy mitred fane is moulderwith still greater desperation, and se- ing fast; veral blows and stabs were exchanged. Bright, when the lively and meridian ray, The farmer received a deep, though not Through blazoned panes its rival brildangerous, gash on the breast, and the
liance cast; blood of his adversary welled from several
2. wounds: still each grasped his weapon, Still bright, when shattered piers of gloand the result of the struggle remained
rious wreath, doubtful. Much has been said and written upon
Gray, naked windows, filled with azure the valour of men, who, locked up in
Rise round thy scarlet patternwork, and armour, endeavoured to thrust each
breathe, other from their war steeds, or with
To ringing winds, their own sad dirigy! mace and battle-axe battered each others heads for an hour together. Now-a
3. days, a man is considered brave if he Why did I tear thee, with unhallowed possess nerve enough to stand and re
hand, ceive his antagonist's fire at twelve paces, From the gay pavement, where thy without flinching. It is difficult to 'broidery shone, define true courage, but old Quarles Vermilion, green, and blue, superbly himself would not have hesitated to
planned, acknowledge that it was conspicuous in Till the stained lattice deemed its dyes the combatants, whose desperate struggle
outdone? we are endeavouring to describe.
4. The horrible fray still continued. What though the pictured windows flame With such weapons, scarcely a blow could have been struck without inflict- In herald pomp, or painted lore, above ing a ghastly, if not a dangerous, wound.
thee? At length, exhausted and faint with loss Suns undisguised salute thy gorgeous of blood, the negro sunk upon the floor, greensward, covered with innumerable And dewy flowers and fragrant herbage wounds and drenched in gore.
the burthen be lightened by dancing, The variegated ceiling, red and gold, singing, or processioning. This for the Lifts to mid heaven no more its florid stage. But is it otherwise with the pile;
reading public? We believe it is worse ; But feathery elms, brown oaks, and we think, verily, that the apprentice or beeches bold,
his master who sits out Othello, or Wave, in fine shade-work, o'er each Richard at the theatre, gets a sort of chequered tile.
glimpse, a touch, and atmosphere of in6.
tellectual grandeur; but he could not But now, the Carkanet hath lost a gem,
keep himself awake during the perusal A blot upon the painted pavement
of that which he admires-or fancies he lies,
admires—in scenic representation. As Where thy companions' beauty destines
to understanding Shakspeare-as to enthem
tering into all Shakspeare's thoughts and To antiquarian zeal a future prize. feelings--as to seeing the idea of Ham
let, or Lear, or Othello, as Shakspeare
saw it—this we believe falls, and can For thee,—nor dew, nor leaf, nor sunny only fall, to the lot of the really culti
vated few, and of those who may have Embalm in pity thy resplendent hues,
so much of the temperament of genius Doomed in the plunderer's cabinet to
in themselves, as to comprehend and lie,
sympathise with the criticism of men of And half thy treacherous loveliness to
genius. Shakspeare is now popular by lose!
name, because, in the first place, great
men, more on a level with the rest of Forgive the sacrilege - majestic shrine !
mankind, have said that he is admirable; That tore a relic of thy wreck away; and also because, in the absolute uniNo spoiler lacerates these aisles of thine,
ne, versality of his genius, he has presented No bigot, heaping insult on decay:
points to all. Every man, woman, and 9.
child, may pick at least one flower from The fondest lover, from his lady dead, his garden, the name and scent of which Ne'er so devoutly stole a shining are familiar. To all which must of tress,
course be added the effect of theatrical As I, this token of thy glories fled ;-- representation, be that representation To guard as closely, and to love no less. what it may. There are tens of thouHORACE Guilford.
sands of persons in this country, whose only acquaintance, much as it is, is
through the stage.” APPRECIATION OF [We have been much pleased with the SHAKSPEARE.
foregoing remarks, and yet, after all, they are but a bundle of truisms. Every
body knows that a certain standard author "The English," says the Quarterly Re- is the fashion for a time, just because view, “ flatter themselves by a pretence some Sir Oracle of the day has thought that Shakspeare and Milton are popular fit to call him “divine” or “delightful.” in England. It is good taste, indeed, There is no library, scarcely indeed a to wish to have it believed that those two-shelved book-rack, without its Shakpoets are popular. Their names are so; speare, the players now and then giving but if it be said that the works of us a travesty of one of his plays, and the Shakspeare and Milton are popular- Germans having made the wonderful that is, liked and studied-among the discovery that he was a mighty genius! wide circle whom it is now the fashion That Shakspeare is not justly appreto talk of as enlightened, we are oblig- ciated, even by many of those whom we ed to express our doubts whether a are taught to look upon as, in some degrosser delusion was ever promulgated. gree, enlightened, may be inferred from Not a play of Shakspeare's can be ven the strange opinions of his commentatured on the London stage without tors. We have, too, essays without mutilation--and without the most revolting balderdash foistered into the speare, but who shall give us a dissertarents made by managers in his divine tion on the subordinate personages that dramas; nay, it is only some three or figure among his numerous and beautifour of his pieces that can be borne at ful creations? all by our all-intelligent public, unless
BY E. T. T. MARTIN.
LOVES OF AN ATTORNEY. in mockery of my vain efforts. What
shall I do? Shall I commence an inventory of her charms, classify and combine
them, add beauty to beauty, grace to “ Amorem virumque cano."
grace, perfection to perfection, until I
have worked up the portrait into loveliI like a quotation; especially if it be
ness equal to the original ? Or shall I from the classics, or poetical, and at the try comparisons and similes, and decommencement of an article.
scribe her in a rhetorical figure? I like to one's production an easy, dashing the latter idea best. It is soonest accomappearance, and tells much of one's plished, and will display the brilliancy acquirements, of one's reading and me- of my fancy. Flowers, it is said, are mory. A quotation, in short, is decid- the language of love I will make them edly a good thing.
of my description of a lovely It has been a matter of much regret woman. There is something in their to me, that while poets have sung the light, delicate, and transient beauty, so “ Pleasures of Hope,” the “ Pleasures like her of whom I write, and withal, of Memory,” and the “ Pleasures of the
so like her love for me, that they are adImagination,” no patriot member of my mirably to my present purpose. profession has yet been found to trumpet more, then, let me address myself to forth the Pleasures of Attorney. The thee, dear reader, and ask thee if thou loves, also, of all living things, from hast ever seen a water-lily-a young, tall, “ The loves of the angels” to “The loves slender, graceful water-lily? If thou of the shell fishes,” have been celebrated hast, thou hast seen something as young, in sweet sounding rhyme, while the perhaps half as tall, and probably even effects of the grand passion on an attor
more slender; but certainly not half as ney have not yet found an historian, even graceful as Helen G., when in her fifin honest and unpretending prose. Mine, teenth year. After all, I do not think then, shall be the task to portray them, water-lilies are perfectly adapted to the and mine own, the loves that form the description of female beauty. They subject of this great effort.
answer well enough as long as we conI was a remarkably enterprising boy,
fine our observations to the figure, face, and made out to work myself, at the age complexion, &c., and are even useful of twelve, into a huge passion for a very
when writing about eyes, as, for indemure little infant, who had numbered
stance:about as many years. But, as my heart
“Her floating eyes-oh! they resemble was first caught by a chinchilla hat, and
Blue water-lilies, when the breeze my
affections were withdrawn from their is making the stream around them tremble.” object on account of a conceived slight
But when we come to the expression of from her, in playing “scorn,” I will
the countenance, water-lilies, and all pass from this,“ my first love,” with the other flowers, are dead letter. single remark, that at this early period are a thousand beauties which they have I formed an attachment for moonlight no language to convey: nights, and learned several lines of
Since writing the above quotation, it Moore's,
has occurred to me that a poetical would
be better even than a flowery description By the star thou lovest,” &c.
of my Helen. There is something in Several flames of a similar character, in the very softness of poetry, its refinethe course of the three or four following ment, its elevation, its enthusiasm, so years, blazed up in my susceptible bosom, congenial with the female character—so burned brilliantly for a short period- allied to feminine loveliness, that it is Aickered—and went out. The next great singular the idea should not have enterepoch in the history of my affections was ed my pericranium before. But, alas! my sixteenth year.
I am an attorney, and there is a manifest I have before me (only in imagination, incongruity between poetry and law. dear reader !) a face that utterly baffles But if I cannot write, I can quote it; my skill in portraiture. I might say and with a proper admixture of poetical that it was sweet—that it was beautiful quotations and prose writing, I think I -angelic-intellectual; I might use a shall be able to convey to the reader thousand such generally descriptive some idea of one who exercised a conterms, but I should convey no idea of trolling influence over my early, very the young girl my memory has conjured early life. up, and who sits smiling before me, as if When I first knew Helen G., she was
" When at eve thou rovest,
mot fifteen; half-woman, half-child
“ We met-'t was in a crowd," uniting the light-hearted gaiety and
at a large party. She was a gay, dashplayfulness of the one with the intelli- ing, fashionable woman, surrounded by gence and accomplishments of the other. admirers and flatterers, to whom she was « Oh, she was beautiful! her flowing hair dispensing, with wonderful ease and Hung in profusion round her neck of snow, grace, the words and nods and smiles, And oft, in maiden glee and sportiveness, Her gentle hand would catch her clustering could not exist. I think I observed a
without which they assured her they curls, And bind them in a braid around her brow. slight fluttering in her manner as apOh, she was beautiful! her graceful form proached. I think the hue of her cheek Moved upon earth so lightly and so free
was a little less brilliant, and that her She seemed a seraph-wanderer of the sky, Too bright, too pure, too glorious for earth.” voice was a little tremulous, as she
answered my congratulations on her arOh, she was beautiful! and my eyes told rival at But it must have been her so; and a stifling, choking sensation fancy, for the last word of her reply had I experienced on taking her hand to bid hardly died upon her lips, before she her farewell, some months after my first
was engaged in a spirited conversation acquaintance, told me—what a sudden with a gentleman standing near her. gush of tears a moment afterwards told One moment convinced me that the her, that I_sweet youth-was in love school-girl's love was forgotten. The with her! Was it sympathy that for a demon of fashion had taken possession moment dimmed her laughing eye? of the heart I had for years foolishly Was it with feeling that her voice trem- thought mine, and the love of admirabled and her lip quivered, as she ex- tion had distorted a sweet, unaffected pressed the hope that she should see me girl into a coquette. From the time I again ? Was it with anger that her made this discovery, I gave up all hope cheek crimsoned, as I, for the first time, of further experience of the “grand stole a kiss from her lips? I know not, passion,” and determined, inasmuch as a for I hastened from her presence, be- wife appeared indispensable to my rewildered, amazed, sobbing, happy, fool- putable standing in society, to make ish! She went to school, and I was
what is called “a prudent marriage”desolate. I continued my accustomed that is, to marry, what I had not, a pursuits, but they no longer possessed plenty of this world's gear. “Hereinterest for me. I resorted to my old after,” I exclaimed, “the shaft of Cupid amusements, but the lightness of spirit must be gilded to pierce me. It is imthat once gave zest to them was with me possible for me to conceive a passion for no longer. My eyes would wander over
merit and beauty alone. I would as the pages of my books; but they might soon think of coveting an empty coffer, as well have rested on vacancy, for my as falling in love with a girl without the heart was with its owner, and my fancy necessary attaché of fortune. Yes—my was busy in scenes enlivened by her preFor four months I thus re
“ Tender sigh and trickling tear,
Long for a thousand pounds a year, mained, partly happy and partly miserable, but always idle. This dreaming not the requisites for love in a cottage ; life was interrupted by the actual presence for the money itself—not for assistance of her who was the spirit of it. I did in hastening the departure of my own not let “ concealment prey on my few straggling farthings. Unfortunately damask cheek,” but told my love, and for my matrimonial prospects, the warmth was happy_happy for one short month, of my new determination carried me into which being the utmost limit of a extremes, and instead of selecting for boarding-school vacation, I was my future partner in life a moderately more separated from the object of my ugly woman, with a moderately large idolatry.
fortune, I opened my batteries upon a Years passed before I saw her again, positive fright, with an estate larger than and I had become an actor on the busy the domains of a score of German princes. stage of life; a whirlwind of human Alas ! she was the child of misfortune, passions and cares had swept over the and my heart was, from the first, drawn heart once occupied with her image; towards her by the holy and blessed but through all changes and through all sympathy we feel for those on whom the temptations I had garnered up in it the hand of affliction presses. She had been recollection of my early affection, and bereaved of a father, who I presume was with an unwavering devotion had guard- affectionate, and deserving of her love, ed it from the grosser and more selfish and was the only child of her mother, and feelings that began to find entrance there. she (to wit, her mother) was a widow
a rich widow--very rich by her dower her in mind all I could wish. I was out of the estate, of which her daughter delighted on a first acquaintance, with was the heiress. Poor girl! was she not the piquancy of her remarks and her to be pitied?
powers of conversation. I adored her. It was an afternoon in June. I was I opened to her the inmost recesses of most romanticly taking a sociable cup of my heart; I gave vent to the romance, tea with my proposed spouse, under an the enthusiasm, the poetry of my nature, old oak, at her country-seat on the In a voice musical as the waterfall that river —
I was drafting a declara- murmured near my feet, soft and sweet tion of my feelings, and had, with great as the summer night-wind that gently care, framed one, to which I thought lifted my hair, I spoke to her of love, of she could not possibly demur; when, on the passion of love, of love in the abstract, raising my eyes from the green turf, to its hopes, its fears, its joys, its sorrows, open my suit, my attention was arrested and, at last, I spoke to her of my love! As by the surpassing beauty of the view be- with a trembling hand I took hers, and fore me. I am not an enthusiastic ad- with a voice inarticulate with emotion, I
with the exception of that dear little turned around to me, and said, “ Now, animate production, the fairest of all, you needn't think to cheat me. I know the works of nature are unheeded by me, what you want. You want to flirt with or passed with an acknowledgment mere- me, and I won't!" ly, not a feeling that they are beautiful She was a stick, a stone, a warmed and glorious. But when I looked upon and walking piece of marble, without a the noble river before me, winding its particle of feeling or sentiment; beautiway through a rich and blooming coun- ful as the finest productions of the statry, decked with islands, and bordered tuary; glowing, to appearance, as the
setting sun, collecting, as it were, all his as dead and insensible as either. glory in a dying effort, threw his golden Interesting as these recollections are to light over the scene, giving his own hue me, I fear to dwell longer on them, and to the sails, which here and there were will therefore hasten to a close. Respread to receive the faint breath of ex- peated disappointment did not discourage piring day, and increasing the splendour me. Rejections were often a relief; for of the distant view, I felt for once that like the two third act” to a bankrupt, the works of nature were beautiful; and they cleared off old scores, and enabled that this world, notwithstanding the as- me to commence anew. Long and persertions of interesting young admirers severingly did I struggle against my fate. of Byron, who with hanging heads, bare But I was obliged to yield at length, throats, and black neck-kerchiefs, bewail and submit to my present life of single their blighted hopes, and rail against blessedness. Other causes than those their lot in having been created mortals, to which I have here alluded, have conwas one in which I might content my- tributed to my present destiny, but they self to live-to live, and live happy, have also tended to make me satisfied happy even without the assistance of my with it. My life, since all hope of change co-teadrinker.
has departed, and the fire and impetuoI gave up the idea of a prudent mar- sity of youth have given place to the riuge, and my affections were once more moderation and love of quietude, which afloat. But love had become a disease come with the increase of years, is not with me. Like the stimulant of the unpleasing to me. It is agitated but by opium-eater, or the potations of the con- gentle hopes and fears, by chastened firmed drunkard, it became essential to joys and meek sorrows. The ruder my existence. My next flame had but storms rage not over it-sun and cloud one fault, which, unfortunately, I did still, in their turn, light and darken its not discover until my affections were al. horizon, and the coming breeze is not most irrecoverably fixed upon her. She ungrateful; for while it changes its hue, was the most brilliantly beautiful girl I its gives variety and freshness to its form. ever beheld. In form, feature, and com- The pleasures of the domestic circle, and plexion, she was unequalled ; and the the endearments of reciprocated love, it dazzling brightness of her eyes, the fine is true, are denied me, but my heart has classic structure of her head, and the air found other objects to which it has at. of easy grace which pervaded all her tached itself; and the tenderness that, movements, made her attractive in the prodigal-like, I would have layishod highest degree. I was a lover at sight. upon one, now finds an outpouring in My imagination, ardent as usual, made benevolence to my fellow-creatures.