with its own weariness, and her cheek wan with the presence of unutterable grief, blame her not! for the forgetful indifference of one we have held dear, is terrible to endure-and well we know, that human love dieth not at our bidding. But alas! "seulement les femmes n'oublient jamais!" ance in public was always rapturously greeted. |witching and mysterious idol of his romantic Night after night, Arthur had listened breathlessly youth. to her melodies; and the young poet's ardent ad- One sentence from the lady, of graceful acknowmiration might well be pardoned, for rarely had ledgment of Arthur's politeness, and then they tones more exquisitely thrilling, fallen on mortal separated, and Edith met Lesbourne no more. ear, than those now pouring forth so rich a tide of She turned for a moment, and saw his manner of gushing harmony. There was an indefinable charm rapt attention and his eloquent glance of tendertoo around the songstress, whose dark and stately ness at the fascinating face of his enchantress. beauty spoke volumes of the proud intellect whose There had been a period, when even thus that lustre it reflected. Hers was a face to look on look had followed her and haunted her very dreamingly, and to linger long in the gazer's dreams; and if, for an instant, she deemed this trial memory. It was not regularly beautiful, but more than she could bear—if her heart grew faint fraught with a nameless fascination, which aroused, even in a careless spectator, something of interest regarding the minstrel's experience in the past. Ah! her's was a painful history, with all its triumphs! It told of a childhood of lowliness and destitution, of a girlhood, when loveliness won praise, and adulation brought ambition. Then, in later years, came gradual but premature worldliness, the tutoring of thought and impulse, and finally, that settled policy of motive and action, he sunk beneath the premature old age of sorrowwhich too often follows aspirations founded on vanity, ending a youth of discontented expectation in a maturity of idle artifice. There had been in her career, many sacrifices of feeling to bear, many It was a beautiful night, and the moon shone suspicions to endure, and regrets which had seared brilliantly through the open window of the invalid's the heart, now throbbing so rapturously with grati- apartment. The air was soft, though the autumn fied anticipation. Arthur listened, absorbed and had nearly past; and the light wind murmured entranced; and when the singer ceased, and the mournfully, as if sighing a farewell to the sweet voice of her song "died into an echo," he felt as if the deafening applause which resounded were profanation, and such common plaudits but mocked a being so rarely and radiantly gifted. During the several following days, Mr. Mordante's illness rapidly increased; his strength declined almost visibly; and in the prime of manhood, ful humiliation. He spoke of his situation frequently and calmly-with the composure of one, who in leaving life, left no hopes. days of sunshine and flowers. Edith watched by Mordante; and for several hours he had seemed to sleep. "You are very kind, dear Edith," he said at last, faintly pressing the hand, which during his slumber had held his own; "but leave me now, for I shall need no.attendance, and I would be alone for awhile. God bless you, dearest!" Arthur and Edith were among the last to leave the apartment, and as they approached the door, the lady came from an adjoining room, and passed before them. A gentleman accompanied her, and she leaned familiarly on his arm. As she moved, Reluctantly his companion obeyed; and the sick the drapery of her dress became entangled, and one was left to the solitude of those sad thoughts, Arthur paused to assist her companion to extricate which were now drawing his career so speedily to it. She turned to thank him with that enchanting its close. The light of the round moon, that light smile, whose witchery so few could resist; and as which looks on death so often and so coldly, shone they lingered, Edith's eyes encountered the gen-full upon his face, lending even more than their tleman's gaze. She read in it no sign of recogni- own paleness to his changed and wasted features. tion. The time which had elapsed since they met, Did he dream, or was there in truth a step beside had erased her from his memory; and now, face to him, and a familiar face bending over him? For face as strangers, they stood, who had been lovers an instant, he doubted his conviction; then the in other years. O! could he have traced the tear-reality could be no longer questioned, and he turned ful agony of the pure heart, beating so near him-with a shudder of agony from his unbidden and could the sweet hopes of his youth have been re- unwelcome visiter. Shocked at the impression called by the glance, which once gave him rapture, her unexpected appearance had produced, the stranhow dark would have appeared the long tissue of falsehood, deception and folly, which made up the dishonorable record of his after life! But it was not thus to be. Lesbourne's experience had been too active and varied, for one such episode to be lastingly remembered. His look of kindness was now for another; and the lustrous eyes which She paused for a reply, and Mordante's answer "spake again," were those of Nina-the be- was low, and spoken painfully. "I had trusted, ger knelt in passionate grief by the sufferer, and wildly pressed her lips to his thin white hand. "Mordante! dearest, speak one word to me! I am not worthy of it; I have sinned beyond man's forgiveness; but you were ever kind and generous. Let me hear your voice once more, and die!" Evelyn, I should have been spared this ordeal; my hours on earth are but few, and the last moments of a dying man even you might have held sacred." "I came but to implore your forgiveness," returned the intruder-" to look again upon your face, to ask your prayers, and then to go back to my wretchedness. Say one sentence of pardon and kindness, then I will cease to profane your thoughts, and we shall meet in this world no more!" "May heaven forgive you, as I do, Evelyn! the death-bed is no place for human wrongs to be remembered, and all I have suffered is forgotten now in all I hope for. You bear with you my pardon, and my earnest entreaty that your future life may be spent in the repentance which will bring you peace. Go now, and tell Arthur and Edith to come to me, for I am faint and weary, and the light grows dim to my eyes!" and Mordante sank back exhausted. Evelyn! thine should have been the hand to press that throbbing brow-thine the words to whisper of comfort in that fearful hour! Truly, the cup thy folly had filled to overflowing, was bitter then! Heaven help the spirit, frail and erring like thine, when its time of inevitable punishment hath dawned! On the few remaining days of Mordante's pilgrimage we will not dwell. There is a sanctity in the sufferings of one, on whom the world's worst trials had lain so heavily, and there seems something of profanation in even the most reverential withdrawing of the veil which covers life's final mystery. His grief had reached its ending, as it were a tale that is told, and we will not revive its memory, to hymn even the faintest "Soft, sad, miserere chant, For the soul about to go." Turn we now, to the living history of another's heart. J. T. LOMAX. THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE: A POEM. Delivered by P. Spencer Whitman, at the recent commencement of Mercer University, Ga. From yonder ocean, rolling wide, Thus wand'ring far in olden time 'Twas such a spot one Udolph found, Our Udolph's cottage rise, That lie reposing near, The sunbeam sheds its softest light, And near the wave upon the shore, But scarce has Udolph drawn his bride, To list that voice so dearly sweet, Fills the whole scene with blackest woe, Look to the sea-the restless sea; "Tis night and tempest on the deep, With bending mast and swelling sail, Before the madly raging gale. The mother draws her slumbering child; Will slumber in their ocean grave. The rocks leap forth, the surge rolls o'erSoft woman's shriek, bold seaman's groan Now mingle with the ocean's roar. Still on his knees, the man of God Cries "thou canst save, Lord, thou canst save!?! And, like the Hebrew Leader's rod, That prayer is potent o'er the wave. The ship lies tranquil on the waves; The seaman's heart is now at rest And grateful to the arm that saves. But as, before the expiring breath, The cheek shows oft a flattering hue, So, this is but the calm of death To that gay bark and hopeful crew. Brief, brief the rapture of their hearts- They see-but ne'er shall reach-the shore; Alas, the ship asunder parts One scream-she sinks-and all is o'er!Come, lift the veil, thou gentle youth, And here, with lustre all divine, Behold, another solemn truth Shines on thy wayward path and mine. Mark well-this life is but a sea Whereon thou sailest-oh beware! Lured by the siren melody, Thou'lt founder while the sea is fair. And only by the lightning's glare, Behold, unto the peaceful shade, Upon the green a merry throng To cheer the universe of night. And time passed on. Fair youth is flownAnd they, to blooming manhood grown, With fervent zeal where'er they stray, These gentlemen, having devoted their youth to a preparation for benevolent labor, both died, as they first came in sight of their Missionary station, the one being drowned, and the other killed by the falling of a tree from the bank of the river, along which they were sailing. Plead India's cause-for her they pray. 'Tis morn-and o'er the waters blue The tender kiss, the last adieu. Farewell, now your native hearth, The sea brings back a sound of woe, Though honored with the Christian's tomb. Now rises on the dusky plain, One voice nerves every arm and breast- Warm in the country's bleeding cause, But humble is the warrior's home- Time passed. Once more around that chief, The people rally for relief: Like Cincinnatus at his plough, They bid him save his country now; Not from the Indian's ruthless dart, When for his goodness thus renowned, In death the worshipped hero low! Far off the fair Ohio's queenly wave Sweeps mournful by the patriot warrior's grave; In that dear soil he rescued from our foes, His honored bones have sunk to their repose. Alas, dear countrymen, ye put your trust In trembling flesh now mould'ring back to dust. Then pause-lo, from that hallowed burial ground Issues a trembling but distinctive sound; "Trust ye in man and still forget your God? "Well may ye feel th' Almighty's chast'ning rod : "In vain, ye honor man however wise and just, "If Christ ye shun or trample in the dust." Proud Statesman pause, and oh be wise, Lift up, lift up thy slumbering eyes; Above thee see in Congress Hall, What once the proud Balshazzar saw, God's finger writing on the wall, His own decree, his fearful law; "Man in his glory passeth like the dew, "Now swelled with pride soon coffined from the view; "If human glory all thy treasure be, "If this you love and worship more than me, "Then tremble, for Balshazzar's curse is yours. "Alas, like him, you've nought that Heaven ensures : "Be wise, like that good chief, though first in power, "Prepare for bliss beyond life's transient hour." Oh Providence, thy stern decree We mourn, and o'er the ruin sigh; Yet Thee alone we mortals trust, We kiss the rod that seems to smite, THE WINTER NIGHTS' CLUB. BY MARIA G. MILWARD. If we meet, we shall not 'scape a brawl.-Shakspeare. Without preface or apology, we shall at once introduce the reader into the comfortable back parlor, where Captain Broadhorn, and his sister, Mrs. Mustin, were seated on either side of the hearth, enjoying the warmth of the ruddy fire, that glowed in the grate. "Do you know that the Club' meets here for the first time?" inquired a voice, as the door briskly opened. The speaker who entered was about seventeen years of age, diminutive in person, but exquisitely formed, with a face beaming beauty and good nature. "I hope you intend honoring us with your presence, aunt Mustin, and you too, father, though from your dishabille, I am fearful that you intend | enveloping herself more closely in a costly cashkeeping your stations in the chimney corners." "Why, Nancy," replied the captain, fixing an admiring gaze on the blooming cheeks and gay dress of his daughter, "your aunt and I feel more at home in these 'snug harbors,' talking over old stories, than in the drawing-room." "I beg pardon, Capt. Broadhorn," said Mrs. Mustin, rather nettled, "I am not such a Goth as you would infer. The intense cold, my dear,"-she looked at Nancy," is my objection. To dress in such weather, would be quite an undertaking." "You are well enough dressed, aunt, with the exception of your cap. Come, ring for your new one. You can put it on by the fire, whilst I give orders for lights in the drawing-room." "And what is the object of these meetings?" asked her father. mere shawl which depended from her shoulders— "defend us from lemonade in the winter: the bare mention of it chills me to the heart!" and she ran shivering to the fire. "And cake too, without even a sandwich! that will never do." "She has come with a determination to be on the opposition," whispered Letitia Ward to Nancy. This young lady and her sister Harriet, were the bosom friends of Miss Broadhorn. "She thinks to attract notice by being singular; I shall oppose sandwiches might and main." "I feel very much inclined to second Miss Hurst's motion," said a tall, pale-faced, young man-"I think the tonic influence of a sandwich highly requisite at our meetings." "But mercy, Dr. Enfield!" exclaimed Nancy, "it is not to be supposed, that through the preceding day, we have lived like hermits-the animal food taken at dinner, I think, will be sufficient, without running the risk of clouding our intellects with a heavy meat supper." "Oh, amusement and instruction combined! Each member is required to bring all his or her stock of talent, whether it be in reading, singing, dancing, recitation, or whatever will contribute to the entertainment of the night, and it will be hard Nothing can be lighter or easier of digestion if among such a mélange, we have not some diver-than a sandwich," answered Dr. Enfield-" and sion and a little instruction, too." the action of the mustard 66 "Come, doctor, your internal application of a sinapism may be very good, but let us arrive at some definite understanding about the rules--let us begin in order." After this brief sketch of the "Winter Nights' Club," Nancy hurried away to ascertain whether all was arranged with suitable propriety, for the reception of the company. She did not forget to place on the centre-table a superb desk of East "This Society shall be called the 'Winter Nights' Indian workmanship, the gift of her father, who Club'"-" What next?" The person acting as sechaving once commanded a fine merchantman, which retary, seated before the India desk, as he said this, had traded to "the golden orient," and to other held a pen full of ink, suspended over the blank foreign lands, had found various trifles, curious and sheet of paper placed upon it. "I really think," rare, to bestow upon "Lovely Nan," as he was often said Miss Ward, pursuing the subject, just interwant to call his only and idolized child. Advan-rupted by Mr. Braithwaite—"that as Nancy and I cing age and the gout, besides the acquirement of were the first projectors of the Club, we ought to a competence, had induced him, some years back, be allowed some extra privilege of opinion." to quit the service of the sea, that he might spend the remainder of his days, tranquilly, in his native place, a small seaport town, the geography of which is left to the conjecture of the reader: for, though in this spot there remained few of the associates of his early days, there yet lingered about it a halo, dear to his honest heart. "Oh! if you wish to take out a patent for its invention, you have my sanction," said Miss Hurst, laughing-" but such rigorous opposition to sandwiches, appears so supremely ridiculous-however, Mr. Braithwaite, do write down, sandwiches are as positively prohibited as the smoking of cigars in a Circus or Theatre." Mrs. Mustin's head, freshly bedight with a new Miss Ward reddened and bridled, while the words cap-Capt. Broadhorn's bandanna neckcloth dis-"bonnet" and "cloak" were audible, as she made a placed by a heavy glazed stock-the company, one motion to retire. and all, assembled-the scene changes to the hand- "Stay, dearest Letitia," said Nancy, imploringly; somely furnished and well illuminated drawing-"this is the silliest affair ever heard of. We will room. settle every thing as it ought to be, presently." The members of the proposed Club consisted of Rather more order prevailing, Braithwaite proabout twenty young persons, of both sexes. The ceeded to commit the rules to paper, as they were room was in a universal buzz, which rendered it suggested and agreed upon. difficult to comprehend more than the general drift "I think," began Capt. Broadhorn, who hithof the conversation. Among the strife of tongues, erto had been silent-Mrs. Mustin twitched him the words "cordial," and "lemonade," were dis- by the sleeve, "You have no right to think here, tinetly audible-the important items of refreshment, sir, or at any rate to give utterance to your being at that moment on the tapis. thoughts." "Oh, for heaven's sake," cried Hortensia Hurst, "And pray, why not, madam ?" |