The Advantage of Debts. A young Parisian, after having dissipated a considerable fortune, found himself lately at the age of 25, completely ruined. Being the heir, however, of a rich un cle, though the latter was a man of good health and middle age, he succeeded in procuring loans to a large amount. At the end of another year, his creditors became clamorous, and despairing of freeing himself from his difficulties he became ill of chagrin. His creditors assembled, and came to the conclusion that his life was the only guarantee for the money, and it was all important to save him. They employed the best physicians immediately, and journey to a milder climate being prescribed, they made up a sufficient sum for his expences, and then sent him to Italy under the care of a valet of his own choosing. During his absence they employed themselves in procuring a settlementlent upon him from his uncle, and he is just returned from Naples and once more joins the crowd of young fashionables at the cafe de Paris. MORAL FORTITUDE.-One of the most extraordinary things in life is to see the things that people are ashamed of, and the things that they are not ashamed of. To see that there are men of sense and education ashamed of not being rich-ashamed of not being able to keep a carriage ashamed that in the division of worldly things, enough has not fallen to their share to enable them to enjoy expensive pleasures-to wear expensive clothes, &c. One may excuse them for being sorry, but not for being ashamed. There is something extremely beautiful amid this world's idle and hollow pomp-amid its heartless and wearing show, its parade, bought with tears and crimes; there is something extremely beautiful in the sight of a man poor and not ashamed of being so-of one with just enough to live upon, with industry and economy, and contented to pass throagh his pilgrimage without any appeal to the common sentiments of the crowd. From the Globe. WASHINGTON'S BIRTH-DAY IN SWEDEN. The following translations of the lines composed and read by J. O. Wallen, Archbishop of Upsala, on the occasion of the celebration of Washington's Birth-Day, at the house of Christopher Hughes, Stockholm, February 22, 1837, was made by an English lady, Miss Nonnen, residing at Gottenburg. There were twenty-two persons at table, of whom twenty were Swedes. The host was assisted in the honors of the day by the French Charge d'Affaires, the Marquis Lavalette, as representative of tbe great and glorious nation that aided us in our war of Independence. "The memory of Gustavus Vasa-The deliverer of his country from foreign tyranny, and the glorious of Swedish Independence." The Archbishop of Upsala rose and answered to this toast, proposing, "The memory of George Washington;" Prefacing the toast by reading the following poem; the translation gives but a faint idea of the beauty and spirit of the original: Swedes! drink this toast with glass in hand! "Tis for the Father of his Land, The glorious founder of its rights! That place in honor's pantheon, And both, with pride, exulting glow. From God's own heart, oh Liberty! Through mortal veins thy stream doth run, Thy march is o'er the boundless sea, Against the tyrants that oppress, The pulse beats high, the pulse grows warm, It was thy hand that dubbed him knight, At Trenton, Yorktown, Saratoga. Fame's airy bubbles burst and die, Away from memory's starry sky, To seek our hero's sacred grave, 'Gainst servile chains and empty show. At the close of the fete each guest received from the hand of the host an autograph of General Washington; to the Archbishop he gave a portrait of the Great and Good Man, whose features, like the Union, should be near and dear to the heart of every American." WOMAN'S LOVE. A woman's love deep in the heart, In some sequestered bower; A woman's love is like the spring, A burning wild o'er which the wing A woman's love is like the rock, The world, with all its cares and woes, From the Knickerbocker. VOICES OF THE NIGHT. I. When the hours of Day are numbered, II. Ere the evening lamps are lighted, And, like phantoms grim and tall, Shadows from the âtful fire-light Dance upon the parlor wall. III. Then the forms of the departed IV. He, the young and strong, who cherished V. They, the holy ones and weakly, Who the cross of suffering bore, Folded their pale hands so meekly, Spake with us on earth no more. VI. And with them the being beauteous, Who unto my youth was given, More than all things else to love me, She is now a saint in heaven. VII. With a slow and noiseless footstep, Comes that messenger divine, Takes the vacant chair beside me, Lays her gentle hand in mine. VIII. And she sits and gazes at me, IX. Uttered not, yet comprehended, Is the spirit's voiceless prayer, Soft rebukes, in blessings ended, Breathing from her lips of air. X. O, though oft depressed and lonely, All my fears are laid aside, If I but remember only Such as these have lived and died. LACONICS PARAPHRASED. What is fame, when the spade our last bed hath design'd, II. Pain, thou sole perfect thing to earth assigned, III. That promise autumn pays, which spring began, And what the school-boy was, such is the man; The sap and tender bud in Childhood shoot, And youth the blossom gives-but age the fruit. . THE RICHMOND COUNTY MIRROR: A WEEKLY PAPER PRINTED ON STATEN ISLAND, DEVOTED TO SCIENCE, LITERATURE, & NEWS. THREE DOLLARS PER ANNUM. SELECT TALES. A TALE OF WOMAN'S GRATITUDE. There is no gratitude but of dogs and women." "It is useless talking, mother; I am no longer the innocent boy that used to kneel before you, and offer up the homage of a pure child's heart to the Deity. Oh no! Would to God I could be a child again!" and Albert Von Glenn covered his face with his hands to hide the deep emotion that shook his frame, and crimsoned his brow. NEW BRIGHTON, JUNE 1, 1839. been looked for in so miserable a place. A cheerful fire blazed in the grate-the clean hearth, carpeted floor and closely curtained windows, gave a look of home and happiness to the apartment. At the farther end was a curtained bed, and a large easy chair by its side. A little table, containing a glass bottle of dark fluid, a cup and a china mug of toast and water was at the head of the bed, and nearer the fire stood a lady's work table, on which lay some plain sewing and its accompaniments, with which the girl who opened the door had been employed. And she, the fair inhabitant, was just the realization of a poet's dream. Too fair-too fragile to be supposed capable of meeting and conquering the difficulties that rise at every step in the path of life, her eye had the tender and confiding glance, her lip the sweet, affectionate smile that tells so faithfully of woman's dependence on man. Von Glenn advanced into the room, and sat "And what have you done, my son, that you should deprecate the possession of manhood and all its privileges-all its powers?" inquired Mrs. Von Glenn, as she sank into a chair beside her son, and her lip quivered, and her eye dilated and filled with tears of sympathy at seeing her usually calm, dispassionate son thus shaken by some unwonted feeling of remorse or of mental an-down upon the chair Clara had just quitted, with the guish. But men indulge not long in gusts of passion, and in a few minutes he withdrew his hands from features now as calm and pale and immoveable as the chiselled marble, and pressing his mother's hand that rested on his arm, replied "It would pain me to tell, mother, and not benefit you to hear a tale that concerns another too deeply even to pass my lips. Suffice it that I am not happy, oh no!not happy-" and a wild smile of scorn curled for one instant the proud, cold tranquility of his features, and he | rapidly walked up and down the narrow apartment; then suddenly stopping, he said quickly, "you see, mother, I am not happy just now, but I will be soon-so don't distress yourself about me; my uneasiness is now caused by circumstances little forseen and perhaps unavoidable-but rest contented in knowing that neither my honor nor the respect of the world is compromised in this affair, but simply an affair wholly private, with whom no one has any concern-not even you, my dear mother-so ask me no more questions if you do not wish very much to pain and annoy me." And so saying, young Von Glenn drew his hat over his brow and walked into the streets of the city. It was gloomy, rainy November; the air was a liquid mist; the streets were liquid mud; the bipeds looked as bad;-in short, it was a sort of suicidal day that an Englishman would be proud to cut his throat in, or an American editor of a newspaper would have written earnest attacks upon his neighbor. Albert Von Glenn, closely buttoned, walked rapidly up a street crowded by the throng that a commercial city usually presents, until he came to a dilapidated building at its further extremity. There he suddenly halted, and casting a furtive glance around, he quickly entered the broken and time-worn door that closed the hall. Ascending the stairs, he passed on to an apartment at the back of the house, that opened into what had once been a balcony, but was now but a floor, unballustered and unroofed. The back door of the passage had been battered down, and hung by only one hinge, while the mouldering walls told of long exposure to the attacks of the elements. Through this doorway he walked out on the balcony, and knocking gently at a door was instantly admitted into a room, small, and showing evidences of decay; yet much more comfortable than could have VOLUME III.-NUMBER XVIII. as she vainly essayed to speak. "I must go, Clara, to bring the proper people to bury your mother. You cannot wish me to delay having the necessary attentions rendered to her now-even though you so mysteriously refused all medical aid. She must be interred." Clara's lips were bloodless as her fair brow, and but that a strange expression drew them a little apart, she too, might have been taken for a corpse, as, clasping her hands firmly over her heart and closing her eyes, she seemed settling some acute internal pang that rent her very soul. "No! Mr. Von Glenn-no stranger must touch her," pointing to the bed, "no stranger must see her even.— If I so sedulously guarded her from curiosity when it might have benefitted her, think you that now I will suffer her cold remains to be gazed on by strangers?" "But Clara, my sweet friend, there is no other way to give the rites of sepulture to your parent." "Listen! she who died on that bed, in your cold country, among strangers, is not my mother. Oh, no! not a drop of her blood fills my veins; but a stronger tie than blood recognizes, bound me to her, still binds me, and there is but one way in which you can show me a kindness. At midnight, when the city is silent, bring hither two stout men and a coffin--or stay-your countrymen are easily excited by curiosity, and you might be watched when I would escape observation. At dusk, I will go alone, and those may be found who may do any drudgery for gold." ease of a domesticated friend; while the girl, shaking back the brown ringlets that fell over her temples, scated herself on the little stool at his feet, and looking up in his face, said, in accents just foreign enough to prove that she spoke an adopted language—“ Oh, how glad I am you have come at last! Madame has slept since midnight profoundly—oh, too profoundly, I fear;” and, bursting into tears, she covered her face with her apron. Von Glenn arose, and stepping softly to the bed, he drew back the curtain that effectually excluded the light from the slumbering occupant of the bed. A woman, still eminently beautiful, but past the meridian of life, A firm, decided air of resolution had succeeded the slept with that deep unbroken repose on her features that feminine, nay, childish manner of her first address; and so revoltingly typifies the last, long, dreamless sleep of Albert gazed in increased wonder upon the beautiful death. He placed his fingers upon the pulse of the arm being who, animated by the strong resolves her mind thrown back upon the pillow, and as he did so, the wo- had formed, stood before him, transformed into a differman opened her eyes and essayed to raise her head, butent creature from the Clara who for weeks had filled all the influence of the drug she had taken was too strong, and she sank back and slept. Oh, this is very terrible, whispered Clara, who had crept to the bedside, think you she will ever waken ?" "I am sure I do not know," answered Albert, "I am afraid not." At that moment a slight spasm passed over the features of the woman, the strange, cold smile of death settled on her lips, her eyes glared wildly for an instant, then closed and she was dead. his thoughts. "You would not, Clara, you could not undertake any thing so dangerous.” "Could not!" A strange smile flitted over her face for a moment. "Albert Von Glenn, I have toyed with danger in foreign camps, in the march, in the desolate cliffs of the Switzer, in the savannah of the Indian, in the plague infected town, in the lonely hamlet, and lastly, in the crowded American seaport; and deadlier than all I have encountered would be the risk of bringing There is something frightfully appalling in death to strangers here, at this hour, to bear away the sharer, the young and unreflecting. Its rigid quiet, its insen- and, alas! the source of all those dangers. No, no, rasibility, the grave, the worm, and the long dark, dream-ther would I drag her uncoffined to the river and plunge less slumber, rush on the imagination, and ere faith can point to the glorious abode of the spirit beyond the tomb, the revolting spectacle before us has filled us with horror. her amid its turbid waves than that a stranger should compose her limbs for burial. I am composed now, you may leave me fearlessly, and deep, deep is the gratitude written here, and as she spoke, she placed her hand on her heart, for all the kindness you have shown me, and not the least tenderly appreciated is the remembrance that in all our intercourse, you have not breathed one word to a desolate girl, that the most delicate of her sex might not hear without a blush." Albert, unused to scenes of the sort described, shrunk back for one moment, but the next he rallied, and feeling that all life was extinct, drew the curtains around the bed, and, leading the poor girl to a chair, tried by every argument he could use, to lessen the hysterical sobs that seemed to threaten her with suffocation. Finding all his efforts to calm her unavailing, he rose to leave the room for the purpose of calling an undertaker to send the proper persons to render the last rites to the dead. With a strong effort Clara rose; she grasped "I must not leave you alone, Clara; if you will not the arm of Albert with a strength of which she was ev-permit another, suffer me at least so share your solitude." idently unconscious, while she gazed wildly in his eyes, Delicacy to her would forbid that," she hastily re As Clara concluded, a deep suffusion covered for a moment her whole face, but the next, it passed away like the reflection of a sunset cloud, and she stood calm and collected before Von Glenn. With a feeling of awe, reluctance and embarrassment beyond any he had ever felt, Albert Von Glenn closed the door upon the alike mysterious living and dead, and with rapid steps retraced his way homewards, unobserved by the busy throng, who little dreamed of the scene in which he had been an actor. marked. "No, I am strong now; leave me alone, and ish dream of waking seraphs. He could not shake off Years had gone by, when an American traveller of high official rank was standing beneath the portico of one of those palaces at Florence that are still inhabited by the native noblesse. It seemed that he had wearied of the music and lights and gaiety that held, alike spellbound, the volative Frenchman and the gay Italian.The moon slept on the Arno, and silvered the costly palaces and marble pillars that lined its bank. Was it the deep blue sky-the queenly moon-the rippling waves-or the soft night breeze that swept the raven curls from the pale brow of the stranger, that evoked the sigh which seemed to wake its echo so near that he started and turned. But no one was near, and as he leant against the pillar, around which the roses of the season were twined in graceful festoons, his thoughts were wandering to the far off shores of his native home, and a long train of deep buried memories were rising like ghosts to flit before his fancy. That night, a lovely French woman had danced with him, but not for the first time; oh no! again and again, since he had resided in Florence, had the beautiful and noble Baroness De Lanci honored him with her hand, but it ever occurred that the moment the dance was over some other engagement withdrew the lovely, yet pensive Frenchwoman from his side-and he had ever been prevented by some untoward circumstance from cultivating an acquaintance that promised to yield him more pleasure than he usually derived from those formed with her sex. her attention, and listlessly gazing on the less attractive Strange it is that early associations will sometimes "She," he exclaimed unconsciously aloud, as he folded his arms across his bosom and leaned his forehead against the marble pillar, "she I loved--and this onethey are strangely alike in their influence over me, and how unlike-oh! Clara, could I find you in the humblest cot, not all the mockery of a hollow world would cheat me into leaving you again." It was an hour too early for casual visitors, but Von Glenn was seated in the boudoir of the Baroness De Lanci, to listen to the narrative of those strange events that gave her infancy and childhood to the camp and the garrison, and her girlhood to exile. The sunbeams were sparkling amid the dewy flowers that exhaled their fragrance to the morning air, and scarcely less pure, and scarcely less sweet was the lovely Eve who was bending to tie up each drooping plant, than Milton describes the first mother of mankind. Loaded with the fragrant and dewy spoils of the garden, to fill the vases that form so beautiful a part of a foreign lady's boudoir, Clara came to meet her now adoring lover, and to recount to him those strange occurrences of which he was as yet ignorant. The child of a distinguished Frenchman of the old regime, she remembered not the horrid butchery which gave her mother and herself, the last of all their numerous race, into the hands of a compassionate domestic, who, by secreting them in his cottage until the popular fury of the mob that burned to the ground the stately chateau, and murdered the nobleman and his sons in cold blood, was directed to some other quarter, and he was allowed an opportunity of rescuing them from certain destruction by carrying them at night to the royal camp. After the lapse of some months, the Baroness married, for protection for herself and the little Clara, but at the period of which we are writing, France was A sigh, deep and broken, again caught his ear, and, but a vast slaughter house, and her child was at the looking up, the flowing drapery of a woman was almost mercy of those who recognized no law, human nor Ditouching him, and her bust was concealed behind a sta- vine. The Baroness was denonnced, seized, and but for tue that was placed within the portico. Advancing from a camp woman or suttler, would have been condemned the shadow of the pillar, he approached his fair compan-to look on the murder of her child previous to her own ion, vexed at being forced to pay civilities to some wo- execution. With this poor woman the little Clara wanman of gallantry, he assumed as careless a tone as pos-dered, until finally the army was ordered to Egypt, and sible, while he uttered some of those silly nothings that men repeat mechanically to women, when a low sob from the lady surprised him into a closer view than he had at first taken, and he found himself alone beside the weeping Baroness. thither she went with her protectress. Upon her return, an English gentleman, struck with her childish beauty, bought her of the mother, and placing her on board of a vessel at Leghorn, in which were embarked his family, sailed for India. There, for several years, Embarrassed beyond measure, he scarcely felt at lib- | Clara lived in the bosom of a worthy and cultivated famerty to say to the dignified woman, what to one less rev-ily; but the diseases that prove so fatal in the east, swept erenced, he could so easily have uttered; but there was a deep sympathy that spoke in every accent, as, taking the white hand of the weeping woman, he begged to know if there was aught he might do to alleviate her sorrow. Nothing." "Will you allow me to call your carriage and convey you home; surely you can no longer enjoy the brilliant scene that yields enjoyment to so many, when you thus seek the silent moon-light to indulge in tears." off nearly the whole of Col. Wharton's family, leaving only Clara and the governess—a beautiful French woman, who had art enough to conceal from her patroness, during her life, the infidelity of her principles and the licentiousness of her morals, but who, now that the restraint was removed, unfortunately succeeded in winning Col. Wharton's regard. Clara beheld with horror the fascination that the temptress exercised, in causing the death of her amiable and pious benefactress to be so soon forgotten; but In"And did tears never yield you a pleasure beyond all dia is a bad climate for the growth of morality, and she that smiles ere gave?" inquired the baroness, raising looked in vain to the several families she knew, for refher eyes to his. uge and protection. In each, some strong objection exLady, allow me to confess that I know nothing of isted to her becoming an inmate, and finally the beautithe passion, and less of its language, that you so univer-ful governess so far gained an influence over Wharton sally inspire in our sex. In my country, the language that he married her. of gallantry is cold compared to yours, and though our hearts are warm and susceptible of love, yet we rarely learn to give expression to its emotions, and some whol She was the impersonation of feminine loveliness; and to these attractions were added not only the grace and ease of her countrywomen, but a dignity of manner and a highly refined and cultivated taste which taught her to appreciate, with unaffected enthusiasm, the works of art by which she was surrounded. Excelling in music even the musical Florentines, her concerts were at once the most delightful, and the most select in Florence. At one of these, the American had just gazed into the depths of eyes that remin led him of some boy-ly escape its influence." From having lived with this woman from childhood, she had gained a powerful influence over Clara; but yet virtue and piety had been early sown in her heart, and it proved a propitione soil. Not all the allurements of fashionable vice, had ever the slightest tendency to draw not pray-could not repent; and day by day, the devot- ed alone. While hidden in the ruinous house we have described in the early part of our story, Clara had been forced to go out in the dusk of evening to make some necessary purchases. One of those prowling fiends who infest cities had watched her, and attempted to force her to go in a contrary direction to that in which she wished to. At that moment, Albert Von Glenn came up and rescued her from the wretch. With the confiding candor of youth, she permitted him to go so near home with her Clara, not knowing the conventional usages of the as to render her retreat known to him. They frequentthe world, felt bound not to forsake her who had nour-ly met and walked, until the illness of the governess so ished her early youth, and who she felt had been basely entirely confined Clara that she was glad to permit Alinjured. She therefore remained with her, and nursed bert to share her daily watch, but from her long night her through the dangerous fever that succeeded her de- vigils he was scrupulously excluded. sertion. But the moment that Madame recovered sufficiently to undertake the voyage, she followed her faithless husband. The events that succeeded would take too long to narrate; suffice it to say, that led by the most dreadful of all the passions that can stimulate the nerves of woman, she found him the early accepted lover of a lady of rank. Blinded by jealous rage, she followed him to the door of his mistress, and claimed his allegiance; he spurned her from him and she stabbed him to the heart. At the moment the fatal act was committed, Clara, frightened at her long absence, had followed her, and she only arrived in time to hurry her away before she could be seen. Clara would long since have confided in the honor of Von Glenn, and deeply painful to her ingenuous nature was this reserve; but her spiritual father enjoined it on her to conceal every circumstance from his knowledge, and to exclude him from her presence. The first was hard enough, the last impossible; for soon Clara learned that life itself was almost as easily resigned, as the society of the first fondly loved one. But upon the death of the cause of all this wandering to the poor girl, she had applied to the priest; and as soon as the interment of the woman took place, he had removed Clara to the protection of a religious order. Almost immediately came news of the restoration in From that hour, a stupor seemed to have taken pos- France, and Clara was restored to the honors of her oession of Madame's faculties. Clara, thus called on An empty title was, however, the only part she for firmness and exertion, showed with what devoted ever received; and the rupees of the Frenchwoman perfidelity a woman will exercise every energy for the pres-mitted her to sustain her rank in Florence, whither she ervation of one endeared to either by habit or association, as well as the dearer tie of love. After hiding her poor friend in various shelters, she procured a passage to America; but, on entering the ship that was to convey them, previous to having her friend and baggage brought on board, she found police officers stationed there, ready to arrest Madame the moment she arrived. With the ready tact misfortune had taught her, she mixed with a boat's load of deck passengers who were going ashore, and applying directly to the master of a Dutch packet, she was taken on board with her friend, and ere the British ship had left the channel, was landed on the coast of Flanders. Madame had secured a large amount of jewels, and thus they were enabled to travel into Switzerland and purchase a cottage. But scarcely had the creative taste of Clara formed a little paradise of the surrounding grounds about the cot, when a travelling gentleman's servant recognized Madame; and almost by a miracle they escaped being taken into custody by the authorities. Disguised and on foot, they reached a seaport and once more embarked on the ocean for the United States. race. had purposely gone upon hearing that Von Glenn was “And how, dearest, will you like to resign the hom- "Will you not be there?" rowed deeply at his absence, and found her only comfort in the society of her children and the hope of his return. But month after month passed away, and yet he came not, nor did any letters-those insufficient though welcome substitutes, arrive to cheer her solitude.-Months lengthened into years, yet no tidings were re ceived of the absent husband; and, after long hoping against hope, the unhappy wife was compelled to believe that he had found a grave in the ocean. "Her sorrow was deep and heartfelt, but the evils of poverty were now added to her affliction, and the widow found herself obliged to resort to some employment, to support her helpless children. Her needle was her only resource, and for ten years she labored early and late for the miserable pittance, which is ever grudgingly bestowed on the humble seamstress. A merchant of N. York, in moderate but prosperous circumstances, accidentally became acquainted with her, and pleased with her gentle manners no less than her extreme beauty, endeavored to improve their acquaintance with friendship. After some months he offered her his hand and was accepted. As the wife of a successful merchant she soon found herself in the enjoyment of comforts and luxuries such as she had never before possessed. Her children became his children, and received from him every advantage that wealth and affection could procure. Fifteen years passed away: the daughters married, and by their step-father were furnished with every comfort, requisite in their new avocation of housekeepers.— But they had scarcely quitted his roof, when their mother was taken ill. She died after a few days sickness, and from that time until the period of the trial, the widower had resided with the youngest daughter. "Now comes the strangest part of the story. After an absence of thirty years, during which time no tidings had been received from him, the first husband returned as suddenly as he had departed. He had changed his ship, adopted another name, and spent the whole of that long period of time on the ocean, with only transient visits on shore while taking in or discharging cargo; having been careful, also, never to come nearer home than New Orleans. Why he had acted in this unpardonable It was a woman's answer, and Von Glenn felt that manner toward his family no one could tell, and he obhe formed her world. THE REFEREE CASE. BY EMMA C. EMBURY. The outlines of the following sketch were related to me by an aged and honored member of a large family connexion; a man who possesses an almost inexhaustible fund of legendary lord, and whose most interesting anecdotes and comic tales are but recollections of past scenes, of which he can say, in the language of Æneas, quorum magna pars fui." Many years ago," said Mr. E—, “I happened to be one of the referees in a case which excited unusual interest in our courts, from the singular nature of the claim, and the strange story which it disclosed. The plaintiff, who was captain of a merchant ship which traded principally with England and the West Indies, had married quite early in life with every prospect of happiHis wife was said to have been extremely beautiful, and no less lovely in character. After living with her in the most uninterrupted harmony for five years, during which time two daughters were added to his fa ness. Landed in New York, Clara, with the sanguine hope of youth, trusted that all danger was over, and took lodgings in a boarding house; but there new trials waited her. New York she found little more secure than London; and the narrow escapes which she forced her unfortunate friend to make would fill a volume; for, harrassed with the most poignant remorse, and overwhelmed with despair, she had resorted to laudanum for obliv-mily, he suddenly resolved to resume his occupation, ion. In vain Clara held before her faded eye, the emblem of a religion she had scoffed at; in vain she tried to turn the knawings of remorse to account by awakening penitence; the infidel woman, the mad murderess could stinately refused all explanation. There were strange rumors of slave-trading and piracy afloat, but they were only whispers of conjecture. Whatever might have been his motives for such conduct, he was certainly any thing but indifferent to his family concerns when he returned. He raved like a madman when informed of his wife's second marriage and subsequent death, vowing vengeance upon his successor, and terrifying his daughters by the most awful threats, in case they refused to acknowledge his clains. He had returned wealthy, and one of those mean reptiles of the law who are always to be found infesting the halls of justice, advised him to bring a suit against the second husband, assuring him that he could recover heavy damages. The absurdity of instituting a claim for a wife whom death had already released from the jurisdiction of earthly laws was so manifest, that it was at length agreed by all parties to leave the matter to be adjudged by five referees. "It was on a bright and beautiful afternoon in spring, that we first met to hear this singular case. The sunlight streamed through the dusty windows of the court room, and shed a halo around the long grey locks and broad forehead of the defendant; while the plaintiff's which he had relinquished on his marriage, and when harsh features were thrown into still bolder relief by the his youngest child was but three weeks old, sailed once same beam which softened the placid countenance of his more to the West Indies. adversary. The plaintiff's lawyer made a most eloquent His wife, who was devotedly attached to him, sor-appeal for his client, and had we not been better inform ed about the matter, our hearts would have melted at his touching description of the return of the desolate husband, and the agony with which he now beheld his household gods removed to consecrate a stranger's hearth. The celebrated Aaron Burr was counsel for the defendant, and we anticipated from him a splendid display of oratory. I had never before seen him, and shall never forget my surprise at his appearance. Small in person, but remarkably well formed, with an eye as quick and brilliant as an eagle's, and a brow furrowed by care far more than time, he seemed a very different being from the arch traitor and murderer I had been accustomed to consider him. His voice was one of the finest I ever heard, and the skill with which he modulated it, the variety of its tones, and the melody of its cadences, were inimitable. But there was one peculiarity about him that reminded me of the depths of darkness which lay beneath that fair surface. You will smile when I tell you that the only thing about him I disliked, was his step. He glided rather than walked; his foot had that quiet, stealthy movement that involuntarily makes one think of treachery; and in the course of a long life, I never met with a frank and honorable man to whom such a step was habitual. which came upon her when her last hope was extin- "Turning to the lady, in a tone whose sweetness was A slight flush passed over her proud and beautiful face, as she replied, The Mirror. FRANCIS L. HAGADORN, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. NEW BRIGHTON, N. Y. JUNE 1, 1839. "My first recollections are of a small, ill-furnished apartment, which my sister and myself shared with my mother. She used to carry out every Saturday evening the work which had occupied her during the week, and "Contrary to our expectations, however, Burr made bring back employment for the following one. Saving no attempt to confute his opponent's oratory. He mere- that wearisome visit to her employer, and her regular atly opened a book of statutes, and pointing with his thin tendance at church, she never left the house. She often finger to one of the pages, desired the referees to read it, spoke of our father, and of his anticipated return, but at while he retired for a moment to bring in "the princi- length she ceased to mention him, though I observed she pal witness." We had scarcely finished the section that used to weep more frequently than ever. I then thought fully decided the matter in our minds, when Burr re-cn- she wept because we were so poor, for it sometimes haptered with a tall and elegant female leaning on his arm. pened that our only supper was a little bit of dry bread, For the "black, rocky promontories" of Norwich, She was attired in a simple white dress, with a wreath and she was accustomed to see by the light of the chips we shall give you the rip-raps and Scylla of the Kill of ivy leaves encircling her large straw bonnet, and a which she kindled to warm her famishing children, be- Van Kuyl, for "the fearful fissure known by the name lace veil completely concealing her countenance. Burr cause she could not afford to purchase a candle without of Purgatory." we shall give you to look upon—our whispered a few words, apparently encouraging her to depriving us of our morning meal. Such was our pov-queenly hills whereon the glorious sun always bestows advance, and then gracefully raising her veil discovered erty when my mother contracted a second marriage, and his first kisses as he rises with a clean face from his bato us a face of surpassing beauty. I recollect as well the change to us was like a sudden entrance into Para-thing tub-the ocean. For the rocks where Bishop as if it had happened but yesterday, how simultaneous-dise. We found a home and a father." She paused. ly the murmur of admiration burst from the lips of all present. "Would you excite my own child against me?" cried the plaintiff as he impatiently waved his hand for her Turning to the plaintiff, Burr asked in a cold, quiet to be silent. tone, "Do you know this lady?" "I do," was the answer. "Will you swear to that?" "The eyes of the witness flashed fire as he spoke. Berkley played Demosthenes, and where Dr. Channing was thrilled with his carliest aspirations, we shall point you the embrasures which the Americans occupied at the battle of Staten Island, and which, doubtless, have echoed more noises than ever escaped the lungs of Berkley, and witnessed more ambition than ever curdled in the veins of Channing. The kind hand of Time has now spread the canopy of the forest over these precious relics, your wife to toil, and your children to beggary? Nev- and successive years have waived above them the green er! never! Behold there my father," pointing to the banners of luxuriant foliage; yet still they remain uninagitated defendant, "there is the man who watched ov-jured by the "reforming out" hand of improvement. er my infancy, who was the sharer of my childish sports "I will; to the best of my knowledge and belief, she ly. What! call you my father!-you, who basely left is my daughter." "Can you swear to her identity?" "I can," said the plaintiff. "What is her age?" asked Burr. "She was thirty years of age on the twentieth day of and the guardian of my inexperienced youth. There April." "And when did you last see her previous to that meeting?" on is he who claims my affection and shares my home; She hastily drew her veil over her face, as she ceased Gentlemen," said Burr, "I have no more to say. The words of the law are expressed in the book before you; the voice of truth you have just heard from man's pure lips; it is for you to decide according to the requisitions of nature and the decrees of justice.' The plaintiff hesitated--a pause ensued-the question was repeated, and the answer at length was, the fourteenth day of May, 17-.” "When she was just three weeks old," added Burr. "Gentlemen," continued he, turning to us, "I have brought this lady here as an important witness, and such I think she is. The plaintiff's counsel has plead most eloquently in behalf of the bereaved husband, who escaped the dangers of the sea, and returned only to find his home desolate. But who will picture to you the lonely wife bending over her daily toil, devoting her best years to the drudgery of sordid poverty, supported only by the hope of her husband's return? Who will paint the slow progress of heart sickness, the wasting anguish | up? of hope deferred, and, finally, the overwhelming agony 66 For the brown house of Berkley, we can show you the old mansion of Gov. Dongan, (the first of the colonial governors of New York) "the Black Horse," the 'White Cottage," and "the Rose and Crown" Inns, standing exactly as they did in the times of the revolution, when they formed the fashionable rendezvous for the British officers of the line. For your Trinity church and tomb stones erected to the memory of some of the subjects of George III. we can point you to St. Andrew's chapel and church-yard, established in the reign of queen Anne. In fine, we have more time-hallowed associations to treasure-more youthful beauty to exult in-better houses to revel in, and more scenes of interest whereon to wo-feast imagination with the images of the past, and fill the soul with the ardor of attachinent, than your favorite Norwich ever could, or can hope to boast. But you shall witness them yourself. "I need scarcely to add that our decision was such as to overwhel:n the plaintiff with well merited shame." Ladies' Companion. APPROPRIATE TOAST.-A friend who has just returnWhen is a man thinner than a lath? D'ye give it ed from Europe tells many a good story of the "first impressions" of the little party of Americans with which he travelled. Among other things which roused their When he is a-shaving. |