I Semi-monthly Journal, Embellished with Engravings. ONE DOLLAR PER ANNUM. VOLUME XXV. TALES. W. B. STODDARD, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. AFTER THE BALL; BY MRS. AMELIA OPIE. HUDSON, N. Y. SATURDAY, JUNE 9, 1849. THE family of Sir John Wallington, a Yorkshire baronet, consisting of Lady Wallington, a son, two daughters, and a niece (the daughter of an elder brother) were preparing one evening for a public ball in their neighbourhood, with great but varied expectations of pleasure. The anticipations of Lady Wallington would have been the most enviable, had not the prospect of seeing the admiration which her daughters would excite, been sullied by the hope of witnessing the mortification of those mothers whose daughters were contesting the palm of beauty with her own; while Miss Wallington and her sister Laura were too conscious of their personal charms, and too desirous of having the best partners in the room, to experience any feelings dear to the heart of be. nevolence. Their brother, perhaps, was actuated by a more amiable selfishness; for he expected to meet his old college friend, Sir William Dormer, who had lately succeeded to an estate in the neighborhood, and was a desirable match for one of his sisters.He also hoped to meet there another friend, Sir William Maberley, who, though not possessed of so large a property, might, he thought, suit the other sister. He therefore anticipated valuable additions to his domestic circle, and his head was full of family aggrandizement. Besides, Major Wallington had also views for himself; Sir William Dormer had a sister, who lived with him, and who had inherited an immense fortune from her grandfather; and she was to make her first appearance that evening, previously to presiding at a ball which her brother and herself were to give the ensuing week, and to which they had already invited those who had paid their respects at Park Place. who might be, so she was told, her future rela- The coach was now ordered round; and the When the ladies reached the ball-room, they found that though Miss Dormer was there, neither of the Baronets had arrived. However, respectable partners offered imme{diately for the three young ladies, and they joined the set; but Miss Wallington, who had always been used to begin the dance in that room, could hardly see with complacence, Miss Dormer, as the daughter of the elder Baronet, taking the lead. This ball in other respects had nothing in it to distinguish it from former balls; but the Miss Wallingtons found it different from what their high-raised expectations had anticipated. In the first place, neither their brother nor his two friends were there; in the next, Miss Dormer did not desire to be introduced to them; and a feeling of pique made them for once not willing to put themselves forward, and request to be presented to her. Thirdly, they saw, that though not presented, Caroline had already formed an acquaintance with the heiress, and that it was evident she was prepossessed in their cousin's favour, as she made her a distinguishing curtsy on leaving the room. They were, however, made some amends by the sudden appearance of their brother, though evidently dressed for a journey, just as their carriage was ordered, bringing with him his friend the Baronet, But neither the sister nor the brother was as yet whom he was introducing as his friend Sir William personally known to any one in the county, except-when he was suddenly called away, and could Major Wallington. He therefore thought, and on good grounds, that an immediate introduction to his own family would be a desirable thing to these young strangers. His cousin Caroline had also her anticipations; but they were of a more humble nature. She felt, that in the presence of Anna and Laura she was not likely to be noticed; still, however, she was eager to see the two young men PAYABLE IN ADVANCE. NUMBER 19. liam, after placing them in it, took his station in spite of all entreaties, on the coach-box, leaving the ladies at liberty to comment on his person and manner, and to wonder whether Sir William Doriner was as handsome as this, their new guest Sir William Maberley When they reached Old Hall, Lady Wallington's first inquiry was for Sir John; but he was just gone to bed. "Then he can't be asleep," murmured Lady Wallington; and she hastened to his bedside, to tell him Sir William Maberly was below, and he must rise to do the honors of Old Hall to him. "And pray, what for?" "Why, because he is James's friend-and-and for your daughter's sake, as it may be a good thing for them, you know." "But very bad thing for me to get up with the gout in my great-toe; therefore, for my own sake, I shall stay where I am; and I will not get up for all the Sir Williams, and all the daughters in the world." "Selfish and self-willed as usual," muttered Lady Wallington, as she left the chamber, throwing the door to rather loudly, considering her husband's gout; and when she entered the diningroom, where a handsome supper had been prepared, she assured Sir William, that, but for a very bad fit of the gout, Sir John would have risen to welcome him to Old Hall, and that he desired her to assure her guest, he was au desespoir not to be able to enjoy his society. The young Baronet, who was by no means a man of words, and from a sort of mauvaise honte, only too common to Englishmen, was never quite at ease with strangers, only bowed in return; and the party sat down to supper. It was now increased by the presence of a lady whom Miss Wallington had graciously gone to summon, and now as graciously supported on her arm into the room; for youth and beauty appeared she well knew, to great advantage, while lending their aid to infirmity. This lady, on being introduced to Sir William by the name of Mrs. Norman, took care to call his attention to this trifling piece of benevolence, by only add, "I am very sorry that I am forced to "My sweet young friend's angelic attention Imakes me not feel my lameness;" while the The Baronet bowed-Lady Wallington smiled sweet young friend seated her by herself, and, and curtsied, as did her daughters, and the former patting her on the shoulder, insisted on her maksaying that her carriage was at the door, Sir Wil-ing a good supper, as she had been so foolish 9 as to sit up, on purpose to hear, all about the licve-don't blush--that you think yourself { ball. "Well, but you have told me nothing yet." "No, nor can I, till I have supped. Sir William be so good as to help me to a leg of that chicken." He obeyed. In the meanwhile the lame lady was questioning Miss Wallington, and whether she and her sister had made any new conquests. "To teasc "To what?" cried Anne, rising and hiding her anger at the unuttered word under a smile, while "Nonsense!" cried both the young ladies at she threw her beautiful arms gracefully round her once; but Mrs. Norman, who knew such questions agitated cousin, and kissed her check with seemwere usually welcome, had not tact enough to feeling affection. "What did I do it for, dear Cary?" that they might be ill-timed in the presence of a Caroline had not courage now to say, stranger; and she still went on with, me:" and while Sir William gazed on the exquisite "Well! and was the handsome young baronet, form and graceful attitude of Miss Wallington, and Sir William Dormer, there ?" saw her caressing manner towards her cousin, he "No; he was not," petulantly returned Miss forgot (as she thought he would) the unkind railWallington, while the handsome young baronetlery which had produced it. who was present, looked up with a strong expression of astonishment; but he said nothing, and Miss Wallington feared that he was shocked at the petulance with which she had replied. "Well, my Lady, and how did you like the ball?” resumed the impracticable Mrs. Norman. "But no doubt you liked it, and, as usual, felt yourself favoured of mothers ?" Lady Wallington smiled complacently, and said, "Yes, I felt that I was a fortunate mother; but there were others as much so. The Miss Selvyns looked lovely to-night, only they were comme de coutume, over-dressed. Their mother, though she has long been a private gentleman's wife, can't forget she was once on the stage; and she loads them and herself with such trumpery finery!" 'Ay, she does indeed; but you are too candid: the Selvyns can't look lovely." "Oh! mamma quite patronizes their beauty, you know, Mrs. Norman ; and I am sure it needs patronage. To-night these lovely creatures looked as red, as red cabbage, and red cabbage dipped in oil too." "Oh, you clever creature! that was so like you!" Miss Wallington, gratified by this praise of her wit, and fancying it would add to the piquancy of her beauty, went on with her observations. "Her face is not; and the defect in her shape I should never have found out, if it had not been pointed out to me." "No!-Why, her wretched style of dress called one's attention to it; it was so showy, and so unbecoming!" "I must own it was too rich and splendid to suit my taste," said Caroline, "Or your pocket either, my dear," said Lady Wallington" and Miss Dormer could have no eye, no taste, to adopt it." "I dare say, dear aunt," replied Caroline, "Miss Dormer did not choose her own dress: I suspect that sweet-looking old lady with her chose it for her. " "And why?" "Because she seemed so pleased with her apMiss Wallington returned to her seat, agreeably pearance, and surveyed her and it with so much conscious that the Baronet's eyes followed her with delight; and then she stroked it down with such admiration. complacence just before Miss Dormer began to "Well," now observed the curious Mrs. Nor-dance; and looking so affectionately and so like a "well, and so Sir William Dormer, to the mother at her, I really could not help envying disappointment of all the young ladies, was not Miss Dormer a friend so like a parent; and I am there, after all." told she lives with her, and is quite a mother to her. How delightful!" man; Not to my disappointment, I assure you," cried Miss Wallington, scornfully; "for I have been told he is very proud, reserved, and conceited, and not very good-looking." "Dear me, Anne," cried her sister, "how changeable you are! It was only to-day that you said you would give any thing to know if he would be at the ball, and whether he liked fair or brown women." "Nonsense! No such thing," replied Anne, blushing with anger at hearing her real sentiments thus exposed before Sir William Maberly; but Laura provokingly went on to say, "Yes, it is true sister; and you know what you said about Miss Dormer's ball, and about opening it with her brother." Miss Wallington's reply was now prevented by Sir William's rising suddenly, and saying that it grew late, and he must go. But it was in vain that he made the attempt; Anne, with an air and a manner which she had often found irresistible, playfully set her back against the door, and looked up in his face with a fascinating smile; and while Sir William muttered a few unintelligible words, he suffered himself to be persuaded back to his "Well, indeed, I thought she was," said Caro-seat: but it was evident that he was not at ease, line Wallington, with a timid manner and a blush- and that though he resumed his chair, he did not ing cheek. resume his composure "Yes, mamma is so over-candid. There was Mrs. O'Connor sprawling about her large limbs in a quadrille, and mamma looking on and asking me if I did not think the handsome widow improved in her dancing!" 46 "Ay, and so did I." said Miss Laura. It is very strange," said Caroline, "that not "There, Anne; it is three to one against you," one of us has yet mentioned the great novelty of observed Lady Wallington. "No matter: I may be out-voted, but not convinced. All I can own is, that Mrs. O'Connor's foot has now a plan to pursue, since she took lessons in town; and before it was a mighty maze and quite without a plan ;' and as this foot kicked in all directions, she ought in common humanity to have cried out to those nearest her, Gare toes, gare toes!" This lively sally, which she thought witty, drew forth smiles from Lady Wallington and her complaisant friend. But Miss Laura said "You are always so severe, Anne !" and Caroline looked very grave, while she observed. "How handsome Mrs. O'Connor is, even now!" "She would not thank you for that compliment with the even now' tacked to it; but you think everybody handsome, Caroline. I really do be the evening, the young heiress, Miss Dormer" "The less that is said of her the better, perhaps," observed Annc, "though it is wrong to judge of any one at first sight. I own, I was terribly disappointed in her." "Indced!” replied Caroline: “ I am sure she quite equalled my expectations, high raised as they were." "High raised! And pray, child," said Lady Wallington, "what could you know of Miss Dormer?" "Oh! I know an intimate friend, a school-fellow of hers; and she described her as all that was amiable, and indeed she looks so. Why, is it pos. sible, cousin Anne, that you do not think her face and countenance beautiful?" "Beautiful! she is deformed." Here the eyes of the warm-hearted girl filled with tears of affectionate regret; for she had not very long been an orphan. But less tender tears succeeded, when Lady Wallington with no very soothing tone exclaimed, " Caroline, you surprise me! I had flattered myself that you had found an affectionate mother in me and sisters in your cousins; and that you of all persons in the world, were not likely to envy Miss Dormer, or Miss any one. Really, Caroline, I did not think you had been so ungrateful!" Ungrateful! I ungrateful!" cried the agitated girl, casting an appealing look at Lady Wallington. Then, unable to restrain her tears she left the room. "I assure you, Sir William," said Lady Walllington, in the gentlest accents, "that girl, when her father, a most extravagant man, died, was received into our family, to be maintained by us, and has ever been considered and treated as a daugh. {ter." "That she has," cried Mrs. Norman: "you may say so indeed.” 66 Nay, I claim no merit for what I did; it was only our duty. But I am very sorry that I have hurt the child's feelings. I think, Laura, or Anne you had better go to your cousin." "Poor dear girl! I will go, mamma," cried Lau. ra, who had the acuteness to see, by Sir William's downcast eye and continued silence, though addressed by his hostess, that the scene and the confidence reposed displeased him. "Kind, good creature!" exclaimed Mrs. Nor"Well, Lady Wallington, I have always said you are the happiest of mothers !" man. When Caroline returned, the traces of recent tears were still visible on her cheek; and they almost began to flow again, on her aunt's kindly taking her hand, and saying she was a foolish child to be so soon overset, told her she must, as a proof of forgiveness, cat the pastry which she offered her Caroline obeyed her; looking up in her face as she prepared to do so, with so sweet and touching an expression of patient resignation, that Sir William, who caught the look, wondered he had not observed her sooner, and began to find out, that though Anne and Laura were strikingly handsome, they Miss Dormer not to dance quadrilles, for her's had not the beauty of countenance which distin- really is not a figure to exhibit. I own, by padguished Caroline. Besides, he pitied her, and heding, her crookedness is as much hidden as possiremembered too, that she had eulogized and defen-ble, and it might be possibly unnoticed in a country dance, but in a quadrille it must be obvious to all the world." ded Miss Dormer. 66 "By the by, Caroline," said Miss Wallington, 'you must explain to me, how it happened that you were the only one of our party whom the proud heiress deigned to notice. For my part, I thought it her place to desire to be introduced to me, as I saw that she felt herself my superior.-I dare say she only took her right precedence; but, as she was a stranger, and I, you know, usually begin the dance, I thought she might have offered me the place, though I should not have accepted it." "You had no right to accept it, Anne," cried Laura, who was never sorry to mortify her domineering sister. "If Miss Dormer had waived her right at all, as the daughter of the elder baronet, it would have been in favor of Caroline, the child of papa's eldest brother, who ought always to stand above you." "O dear!" replied the provoked Miss Wallington, "I always forget that Caroline has precedence of me; and I suppose from this time forward, as she and Miss Dormer seem to be already tender friends, I must make up my mind to see her pressed into the place of honor at balls." "Miss Caroline knows her place better than to accept it, I am sure, observed Mrs. Norman, tos. sing up her head; "nor can I think, but that when Miss Dormer knows you, my sweet young friend, she will be eager to do you every honor in her power. But, perhaps, as she is very young, she might be awed by your dignified manner, and a little feeling of jealousy might prevent her seeking to know you; and—” "Miss Dormer jealous, madam !" cried Caroline eagerly: "Oh! that is quite impossible." Why really the heiress and her smiles have turned thy head, Cary," said Anne, trying to conceal her spleen. "But come, explain how you were introduced." "Oh! her waist-riband came unpinned in the dance; and-and as that sweet-looking old lady was not near her, I offered to pin it for her." "Well, for a modest, timid girl, that was tolerably forward, Cary." "Dear! do you think so?" "It was very kind," said Sir William, breaking for the first time a long silence. "And what did Miss Dormer say to you?" suring him that they only waltzed with each other but he was hanging over Caroline's chair, and begging her to indulge him with waltz again. She obeyed, but with a tremulous hand and a bewildered mind; for she was confused by such gratifying and unusual approbation, and observed I conclude you are joking," said Caroline, blush-her severely-judging relations with sarcastic smiles ing. "I could never presume to wound any one's watching her execution, till at last she was forced feelings by such advice; and after all, where there to declare her inability to go on-begging her is so much to admire as there is in Miss Dormer, cousins, who were so much more able, would take it would surely be most unkind in the by-standers her place. Anne did so, and played what she to remark only her sole defect." called a voluntary, in a masterly style." There Sir William!" cried Caroline," that is playing!" "And so was yours, in a different style." "Unkind! Was that aimed at me, madam?" "Oh dear! No; it was a general observation." "Pray," said Mrs. Norman, seeing the cloud gathering on the brow of the haughty Anne," do tell me who this Miss Dormer is like? Can you, Miss Caroline, describe your idol? or did her ef. fulgence blind you too much?" 66 like." He then complimented Anne on her perfect command of the instrument. She then played an adagio and a slow waltz; but Sir William did not praise the latter, nor encore it as he had done Caroline's. Caroline now entreated her cousin Laura to sing Really, madam, I cannot say whom she is her favorite song. "I will," she replied, "if you will accompany me, and promise not to blunder." I will try," she meekly replied; and Laura sung as follows: "She is like you," said Sir William, smiling with great complacency on Caroline: "I never saw two countenances more alike." "Like her!" exclaimed Mrs. Norman: "why, I thought some one said she was handsome." "So she is, madam, in my eyes," returned Sir William coldly. Caroline blushed with surprise and pleasure, while the sisters bit their lips. Lady Wallington at length, after hemming to get rid of an involuntary hoarseness, remarked, "You know Miss Dormer, then?" "Perfectly, madam." 66 Perhaps you will be at her ball?" Certainly," he replied, smiling; "for-andand"Here some strange embarrassment broke off his speech; and looking at his watch, he suddenly rose, declared it was very late. and hastily bowing, prepared to depart. SONG. "When'er the moon, in silver pride, For so upon my darken'd view But ah! when o'er the rolling wave For now thy heart is mine no more, The third verse was to a quick movement with a rapid bass, which Caroline executed so well, that Sir William could not help applauding her; and "Oh no, indeed! you must not leave us yet," when the song was over, Caroline said with great cried Lady Wallington: " perhaps you are musi-naivete, "Well! I could never have supposed cal, Sir William? Anne and Laura, perhaps Sir William would like to hear a duet?" Sir William declared he should be delighted; and Caroline sat down to accompany her cousins, who sung a duet. that while Laura was singing, any one could have heard my accompaniment !" Her cousins were as much surprised as she was; and when Sir William next declared he must go, they did not press him to stay, though Lady WalThe sisters sung admirably; and Caroline, inlington said, "We expected you would sleep here, Sir William's opinion, accompanied admirably; and a bed is prepared.” but her cousins found fault with her, and the poor girl humbly asked their pardon. Anne now challenged Sir William to dance a "She thanked me, and in such a tone of voice, reel of three, and he accepted the challenge; while and with such a smile, that I ventured, as I stood Caroline continued at the instrument. The reel near her, to tell her I knew a friend of hers; and over, the graceful sisters, preparing for a waltz, so we talked together the rest of the evening, when-desired Caroline to play slowly and as well as she ever we had an opportunity." "Quite a romantic friendship begun at first sight!" cried Miss Wallington: I see, Laura, you and I have no chance now of pleasing either the brother or the sister; it is place prise, and Cary carries all before her." "Nay, dear Miss Wallington," said Mrs. Norman, "how can you talk so? I would lay any wager that Sir William Dormer will begin the ball at his own house with you." "What in defiance of Caroline's rights, on which Laura has been so eloquent?" sarcastically answered Miss Wallington. "Cary," she continued, "I wish you would, as a friend, advise could. She did so; and Sir William surveyed with admiration their fine figures and graceful motions; but Caroline, whose whole soul was in the bewitching air, and whose countenance, as she gazed on her cousins, expressed the generous pleasure with which she beheld their excellence, did more than share his admiration with the dancers, till, much to their surprise and hers, he moved to the side of the instrument, and cried, "Bravo! bravo!" to her expressive playing. This was the signal for the sisters to leave off waltzing: they hoped, however, that Sir William would offer to waltz with them, and give them an opportunity to show their sense of propriety by as "A bed! is it possible? I have but a very little way to go, and I ought to have gone away long since, as my carriage has been here some time." Then, not allowing Lady Wallington time to ring he darted out of the room, and they heard him drive off. "I could lay any wager, Sir William Maberley is in love with Miss Dormer," cried Laura, as soon as he was gone. "O heavens! if he is, how he must hate me !" said Anne. And like Caroline!" cried Laura. "Yes; and if so, no wonder he thought Caroline by implication handsome. Upon my word, it would mortify me to be thought so by a man evi. dently so devoid of taste." "Well said, Conceit!" cried Laura : " but you are always so satirical, Anne, and always cut up people so unmercifully," "With a little of your assistance, my candid sister if I use the knife, you hold the body." ་་ "Be quiet, girls!" cried Lady Wallington: you know I can't bear to hear your constant bickerings with cach other." "Indeed, dear aunt, my cousins were very sorry to go, but they were quite overpowered. They, however, desired me to call them, if you were ill "Well mamma, I did not begin-Laura at- again." tacked me first." "I know it." ORIGINAL COMMUNICATIONS. "Indeed! Well, that was much for them but Suggested it is all my own fault; and you, Caroline-you "And what did I say, mamma? Nothing very whom You are a kind, affectionate creature, severe; and I am sure it is all true." "Perhaps so! I like your saying that, Lady Wallington; for who is so severe as yourself? I Caroline, and I will not forget it." Here she heaved a deep sigh, and was silent, not asleep again. if Caroline spoke the truth when she said she was am sure, if your daughters are so, they learnt it not tired; for the occurrences of the former part of from you." "Very dutiful, indeed, Miss Wallington! But it is my own fault: my indulgence, and the tenderness of my nature, my exquisite maternal feelings, which led me never to deny you anything, have brought on me this ungrateful return." 66 Ungrateful! No, madam, we are not ungrate ful!" exclaimed both the sisters at once, united now in a common cause. the evening had exhilarated her so much, that she was not conscious of fatigue. In the first place, she had become acquainted with Miss Dormer, and had evidently been regarded by her with partiality. In the next place, the handsomest and most agreeable-looking man whom she had ever seen had thought her like Miss Dormer, whom she believed beautiful, and he thought handsome. She, the plain Caroline, as she had always been "You talk of your exquisite maternal feelings, taught to consider herself; she, who had always indeed!" cried one. "Your selfish ones you been told it was a wonderful thing if she had good mean," cried the other," which would not let you partners and many of them, because she had so be at the trouble of correcting us. Had you done few personal pretensions, had that evening evident your duty by us, we should have been grateful.ly more than divided with her cousins the attenIf I am violent in temper, who made me so' so?" "If Anne and I quarrel more than sisters should, it is owing to your partiality for her when she was a child, which made me dislike her; and which your apparent love for me since I grew up and have been thought as handsome as Anne, has never banished from my memory." "As handsome as I am!" cried Anne, fire flashing from her eyes: "you vain Here she was interrupted by a violent scream from Lady Wallington, which ended in a fit; and this" happiest of mothers" was carried to bed in strong hysterics, brought on by the unkindness of her spoiled children. Mrs. Norman, the toad-eater of the family, meanwhile, now at least was sincere, and gave way to a natural feeling, when she muttered to herself, though loud enough for Caroline to hear, before she followed her screaming friend and the now penitent daughters to Lady Wallington's apartment, "What vile tempers they all have! I amn sure no one would live with them who could live anywhere else. Do you not agree with me, Miss Caroline ?" shrugging up her shoulders, and looking up in Caroline's face, with all the contempt which she felt for her tyrannical relation. But she met with no answering glance from the high-principled Caroline ; who, elevating her head with the pride of virtuous feeling, replied to her, "I believe you forget madam, that you are speaking to me of my relations, and that I am the object of their bounty." So saying, she hastened to her aunt's apartment; and it was Caroline who performed a daughter's duty by her, and watched by her bedside. Lady Wallington woke, after an hour's forgetfulness, and asked, "Who is there? is it Anne or Laura ?" "No: it is I dear aunt," replied Caroline. "You!" tions of this very pleasing man; and a feeling of However, the same thoughts again recurred; while again the wish returned to gaze upon those features which now, for the first time, had gained importance in her eyes. She therefore made another effort, and took the lamp to the glass, instead of carrying, as she had before done, the glass to the lamp; but in so doing, she struck the lamp against the drawers, and awoke her aunt, who exclaimed, "What noise is that ?" Luckily, how ever, for Caroline, who would not lie, and who would have blushed to own the truth, she fell asleep again, without waiting for an answer. Caroline now returned the lamp to its place, without another attempt to profit by its light: for her rightly-feeling mind was shocked to think she had, in order to indulge a trumpery vanity, dis. turbed the rest of one whose slumbers she was pretending to guard; and she now sighed, while she thought how soon that mind which she had once fancied could not be upsct, was capable of being misled, if the same incense was applied to her self-love, "I see that I should have been like my cousins, if I had, had the same temptations:" and while her heart glowed with pious thankfulness for exemption from their dangers, she felt the most generous indulgence for their errors, and the sentiment of self-blame for having ever judged them severely. It was not till six o'clock that Lady Wallington woke; when, assuring Caroline that she was quite recovered, she insisted on her retiring to bed, and "Yes; my cousins were so tired, they were calling her own maid to her. forced to go to bed." For the Rural Repository. by " Opie Ann's" verses on Love in "Tis fun to us to see the fuss, Miss Opie Ann, and trouble, that oft doth spring from love-a thing as trifling as a bubble. To hear folks make vows that they'll break, and say "my dear," "my honey ;" and talk of hearts and Cupid's darts-to us this seems quite funny. You speak, dear madam, of old Adam, and think his wife was winning; because, forsooth, the ardent youth loved her after sinning. But he, I claim, was not to blame-his case was quite uncommon; what could be done-twas Eve or none -she was the only woman. Some call love bliss, but sure they miss the name that it doth merit; so much alloy's mixed with the joy I would not wish to share it. It breaks one's rest-disturbs his breast, turns reason into folly, and common sense is driven hence in gloom and melancholy. It burns like fire, and wont expire, when it has seized the rash one; and it makes fellows sigh like bellows to cool the flaming passion. Wise men and fools become its tools, and lend it their devotion; and many a one has frantic run when swayed by the emotion. There may be fun unto the one who wisely keeps above it; but Opie Ann, I think there's none unto the subject of it. O-P.H. BIOGRAPHY. MAJOR GENERAL WILLIAM J. WORTH. GEN. WORTH was born in the city of Hudson, Columbia Co. N. Y. in 1794, received a plain but substantial education and began life as a trader's clerk in this city. He died on the 7th of May, 1849, at Antonio de Bextar, Texas, of cholera. He was sick but twenty four hours. His wife and all his children but one were with him at the time of his death. His ancestors were from Devonshire, England, and settled in Massachusetts in 1642.The General's father followed the sea, but the son was bred to mercantile pursuits, though he once said to an acquaintance that "he was not born to be a merchant." His inclinations pointed to the army. Worth has been compared, and not unjustly, to Murat. His handsome person and his dating courage forcibly recalled to mind, during the war with Mexico, the Roland of Napoleon's army.— Few American officers participated in as many battles as Worth, none perhaps in such brilliant and numerous victories. Prominently distinguished in the war of 1812-then in that of Florida-then under Taylor at Monterey--and finally in the campaign against the city of Mexico, he ran a carecr alike fortunate and brilliant, and one in which glory and promotion followed hand in hand. But alas! just when the war is over, and the time has come for him to repose on his laurels, he is cut off by an ignoble disease, in a paltry frontier town.Such is human life. Such is the end of early glory. When the war of 1812 broke out he entered the army as a private, but did not remain long in the ranks. A fellow clerk, who had enlisted with him, having been placed under arrest for some indis cretion, applied to Worth for advice, who under- { The character of Worth may be sketched in few After the peace, Worth was, for some time superintendent of the West Point Military Academy. In 1821, after the retirement of General Armistead, Worth succeeded to the chief command in Florida, where he had been serving, as second in rank, for about a year. Ambitions of distinction, he sought every opportunity to bring the Indians to action, and though often disappointed finally succeeded. In recompense for his gallantry on this occasion Worth was brevetted a brigadier general. When a war with Mexico became probable he was detached to Corpus Christi, to join Taylor; and remained with the general until just before the battles of Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma. The cause of his leaving camp, as is well known, was a difference between him and Twiggs, growing out of his brevet rank. He hastened to Washington, intending to resign; but the war altered his decis. ion, and cancelling his resignation he hurried back to the army. MISCELLANY. From Scott's Weekly Paper. OF THE SONS OF TEMPERANCE FOUND OUT. thare, they lock him up in a big iron chest, with a hole in one eend for him to breathe through. And there he's kept three hours, then he's sneaked cout of that and rubbed all over with soft soap, and drawn through a big holler pipe till he hollers like a loon. Then he's taken out and tied up in a sack, and a passel of them heathenish fellers carry him into the room where they hold meetin's. Then the lights is all put cout and when the room's as dark as Egypt, he's taken out of the sack and put in a coffin. The lid is screwed down, and he's lugged round the room nigh about half an hour." "How does he breathe, mother?" "Yew need'nt make so strange 'bout them holes bored in the top on't; abeout half an hour,. as I was sayin' and then the coffin is sot up on one cend, and a dead march is sung, and he's axed in an awful solemn voice that sounds jest for all the world like a ghost, ef he's willin' to proceed. Ef "I've just found it all eout 'bout you Sons of he says he is, then the lid is unscrew'd and finds Temperance," exclaimed old Mrs. Credulous in a himself standing with six sharp pynted swords extacy of ill concealed delight. "You Sonnies held close to his breast and neck, by fellers dressed can't cheat me, I'm 'little tew cunnen for you.-like evil spirits. Oh! massy on us! it's enuff to No use for you to tell me 'bout your Love for make a body's blood run cold tew think on't. And Brethren and all that sort of stuff, and put on your he's told ef he ever tells a word abeout the secrets mysterious airs and keep your tongues under lock of the Order, he'll be made away with jest as sarand all that. I've found it all eout. I know the tin' as the death." hull on't from the beginnin' to eend." And she looked very knowingly, as she tossed her head proudly. Her eyes sparkling like coals of fire.— The old lady had just returned from a tea party given by Mrs. Jones; where a young man not a member of the Order, but who affected to be one, and well acquainted with all the "mysteries of the Order," and every thing appertaining to it, had quietly fallen in with the whimsical objections the dear old creature had wisely made against the Sons of Temperance, and to fix them in their opinions, and superstitious conjectures, and amused himself by favoring them with a pretended development of the secrets of the Order, and a full description of the ceremonies of initiation. "Do you believe they would murder him if he should tell, mother?" "To be sure I do-I know they would." "How did Tom Smith escape to tell you this?" "Poor creetur!" exclaiming the good old lady. "I'm the fust one he ever told, and I spect ev'ry minit to hear that he's missin." But don't interrupt me so-yeou put me out Wall, he promises faithfully—I'm blessed ef I don't believe he dassent for his life do any other way than promise that he'll never tell to livin' creetur. Then he's told of he dus, that his tongue 'll be chopped off and his mouth sew'd up, his eyes put eout, and his hands tied behind him, and in that distressed condition he'll be put in a coffin and buried alive in less Taylor, sympathizing with the feelings, of Worth, who could not forgive himself for having missed the battles of the 8th and 9th of May, assigned to him at Monterey, the task of carrying the heights on the Saltilo road, with one division of the army, while, with the other, the commander in chief ad-umphant exclamation above quoted, was a member vanced against the town from the Serralvo road. This was, in fact, giving Worth an independent command-for, after once separating, it was found impossible to keep up the communication between the two divisions of the army. Her son in law to whom she made the above tri-than no time." Worth carried in succession, the various forts commanding the Saltillo road-stormed the Bishop's palace which overlooked the town-and pushing forward through the suburbs, entered the streets throwing shot and shells, and carrying terror and dismay before him. He was within a short distance of the great square, when the town capitulated to Taylor, penetrating to the plaza from the other side. For his exploits at Monterey he was brevetted a major general. His next great exploit was at Molino del Rey where he carried the almost impregnable works of the enemy, after a tremendous struggle, in which more lives were lost, in proportion to the number engaged, than in any action in the war. Worth also fought with distinction at Sierra Gordo, at Cherubusco, and at the storming of the gates of Mexico. He was, perhaps, after Taylor and Scott, the most efficient-certainly the most popular-of the generals in the war with Mexico. of the Order, who had long ago ceased, from what "Oh! Johnny," said she," you wouldn't ax me "You remember that persuasion was powerful "What do you mean ?” cried Johnny, "Well," said Johny, "I'm all attention." 46 Wall, the miserable critter is then let eout of the coffin and walked about the room on his hands and knces, and ordered to thank them heathernish fellers for pinchin' kickin' and punchin' him, pullen' his hair, ringin' his nose, and treadin' on his corns. You needn't laff. It's all as true as Gospel, and you know it. It's shameful to treat hu man natur in that way and not to be laffed at nuther. "Then he's ordered tew sit on a plank all covered over with burgundy pitch, and made tew smoke opium and sneezin' snuff till he's nigh about half dead, and then they give him the grip and-" "Why mother, they have no grip." "No use for you tew try tew deceive me! I know the hull on't from top to bottom." "Well then, what is the grip, mother?" 'Why, one of 'em grabs him by the neck, and he grabs tother, and then they give each other an all chokin, squeezc. Then they whisper the secret word in his left ear." "What's the word, mother?” "Bellymashazzar, to be shure; you know as well as I do. You needn't laff agin. It won't do. Then they give him the sign;-that great secret "In the first place," began the old lady," the fel-sign you always make so much fuss about." lar that's to be took in, has got to go with a parcel of fellers in a dark room, and when they get him "How's that made," cried Johnny, half convulsed with laughter at the form of initiation. |