the happy natural ingredients of his character--wise existence, and to be ever-enduring under all circumeven in his wishes. On examining the portraits, we stances, in the other it is set down as a mere by-playsee a forehead apparently well advanced, although not only an interlude in the drama of life. An accurate uncommonly high. It narrows å little from the lower observation of the human character, will hardly justify part. His metaphysical and comparative organs were this discrimination. In man or woman, the passion is probably less expanded than that of observation. We the same, and it is governed in each by the same laws. see nothing here of that magnificent pile of brain, in the In man and woman, it is alike predominant, until masupper part of the forehead, which enabled Bacon to tered by some stronger feeling. Nor is it more likely become the legislator of philosophers. Franklin had a that any other passion should absorb it in the one, than good ear for music, as also a turn for the mechanical in the other. The world of fashion, contains as fasciarts, which two organs help to spread the forehead late- nating objects for female ambition--as does war or rally in the lower part. Farther up, the sides of his politics, for man. Love, in a word, I mean the love of forehead incline to fall inwards; the reason of which is the sexes, is, in the bosom of either, like everything obvious, for he had little imagination. Franklin was else human, liable to limitation and change. Time, and pious from reflection, but had not by nature much ardor absence, and separation from the object of our affection, of devotional sentiment. He lived at a time when reli- without hope of another meeting, and the homage of gious opinions were so much canvassed as to exercise other and more attractive worshippers, will have their rather the metaphysical faculties than the moral ones. influence in modifying, altering, and diverting the currents of the heart. Why marvel then, that Agnes Pontois, should become inconstant to the dead?

THE STORY OF AGNES.

Another year passed by. In the same apartment in which we first found her, but at a later hour of the evening, with the polished astral shedding its mellow light upon the jewelled cincture that adorned her brow, Agnes was again seated on the ottoman. But she was

(A sequel to “The Spy.”—Vid. Lit. Mess. Vol. III, No. 8, p. 460.) now, not alone. Beside her sat a gentleman of com

BY J. M. C., ESQ.

So mourned the Dame of Ephesus her love,
And thus the soldier arined with resolution,
Told his soft tale and was a thriving wooer.

Shakspeare.

manding appearance; and earnest was the tone of his voice, and impassioned was the expression of his features, as he poured into her ear the words of love.

"It never can be," said Agnes, with downcast eyes and hurried voice, as her companion made a pause; "I never can quit my native land for a foreign home."

"We will then dwell in America,” replied her lover. Agnes raised her eyes in gratified astonishment. And what if our independence is acknowledged, and America becomes a distinct nation ?""

"I will then throw up my commission in the army, and renounce my allegiance to my native England," replied the Briton.

"And can you do this, with all your bright and flattering prospects before you ?"

"I can do anything-make any honorable sacrifice for your gratification, Agnes. After the war, I shall be free to choose my course of life. I have thought deeply on this subject, and am prepared for the step. My favorite author, Plutarch, has contributed much to the formation of my present determination."

Months rolled on. The betrothed of Dormer, who had been borne from the scene of his melancholy death" to the mansion of her father in a state of insensibility, gradually recovered from the shock, and resumed the tranquillity of her feelings. Under the magic and ameliorating influences of time," the pale and sickly cast of thought," was banished from her countenance; and yielding to the tender and urgent solicitation of her friends, she once more mingled in the dazzling soirées of fashionable society. Her unrivalled beauty and accomplishments speedily attracted around her a crowd of suitors; among whom was a British officer of high reputation and distinguished gallantry. At first she looked coldly upon all advances; and, throwing her heart back on its early affection, mentally vowed that she would be faithful, and true allegiance bear to the memory of her betrothed. But, alas! for the constancy of the sex! What dead lover, ever yet maintained the citadel of their affections, against the persevering assaults of a living one-except in the legends of romance? As the story of her bereavement faded from the speculation of society-and was lost in the heady whirl of that excited period, she began to realize the prolific germ of a new sensation-which soon budded forth into maturity, beneath the ardent attentions of the Briton. The impressions of her early years became daily less distinct. Her recollection of the devoted and chivalric Dormer, melted down to the accordion of a soothing sorrow, which only facilitated her unfaithfulness.

It is the fashion of the age, to draw a distinction between love in the female bosom and in that of man. And, whilst in the one, it is said to constitute a part of

"How," said Agnes, eagerly; "what does he say on the subject?"

"He who studied the human character in all situations," replied her lover-" he who has recorded the lives of the sages and heroes of ancient times, as an incentive to glorious ambition in all after ages,--who looked into the heart of the victor, on the battle field, and in his hours of triumph,--who traced the exultation of the orator, ruling the fierce democracy, 'from Macedon to Artaxerxes' throne,' has left as the recorded wisdom of all his observation, the palpable conclusion, that the purest and most permanent happiness that mortals can enjoy, is to be found in the devoted love, of one beloved object. I have myself had some experience of the joys of worldly honors-and have found them, all vanity. I am willing for the future to profit by the lesson of Plutarch. Will you now be mine?" The voice of the soldier was low, deep-toned and

musical; and as he concluded, he seized the yielding [ing reminiscences. The gazers from the hill entered hand of the maiden and pressed it to his lips. into its spirit and enjoyed it.

"That is a bright and beautiful prospect, Agnes," observed the gentleman-" What is there, in the artificial splendors of a city, to be compared to the grandeur of that scene ?"

"Nothing, nothing," replied Agnes; "Oh, I do love the country."

"And do you never feel lonesome here-do you not sometimes sigh in secret for the pleasures of society?" "Never-with you and our children here, what more society do I want? Since our marriage, home is the world to me."

Revelry and rejoicing were in the halls of the father of Agnes. The mirrored lamps shed their dazzling and multiplied reflections throughout the mansion-and music breathed its potent spell upon the joyous company. The gay and the fashionable of the city were there, and many a dark eye was rolling beneath the ardent gaze of conscious admiration. But hushed were the sounds of music--and still and silent the expectant assemblage, when the door of the saloon was opened, and a train of attendants, of both sexes, passed in, dividing as they entered, and arranging themselves on "I have somewhere read," continued the gratified each side of a venerable minister that occupied a posi-husband, "of a sect called the St. Simonians, who tion at the farther extremity, to make room in their maintained the doctrine that every human being has a centre for two that did not separate-the one a gentle-fitting mate created, and that unless the persons so man of distinguished appearance-the other a fair and gentle female-the unrivalled Agnes. Her dress was rich but plain; she wore no brilliants, save those which sparkled in her eyes-no gems or costly ornaments, but the spirit's lustre. Clinging to the arm of her supporter, they stood before the priest. The Briton had wooed and won her: the words of contract were spoken and they were wedded.

intended for each other are united together, there can be no harmonious or happy marriages. Their text runs thus: 'Il n'y a sur la terre pour chaque homme qu'une seule femme, et pour chaque femme qu'un seul homme, qui soient destinés à former dans le marriage, l'union harmonique du couple.""

"If that theory be true," said Agnes; "in the lot tery of human happiness, how large, how very large is the number of the blanks to the prizes; and oh, how grateful ought I to be."

"It was, I presume, upon this hypothesis,” resumed the husband, "that the shepherd Sylvander decided, for Cleon and Leonice, the important question, ‘Si amour peut mourir par la mort de la chose aimée !'”

"And how did he decide it?" said Agnes, with a slight appearance of agitation, and in a lower tone of voice.

"Why his judgment was, ' Qu'une amour perissable n'est pas vrai amour; car il doit suivre le sujet qui lui á donné naissance.””

“'N'est pas vrai amour,'" repeated Agnes to herself. "What do you think of his decision, Agnes?" said her husband.

"That it is correct," replied Agnes, mournfully.

"And yet do you not remember," he pursued with a

Time sped on with fairy foot. The war was over. American independence had been recognized; and the United States had assumed among the nations of the earth, the lofty eminence of a free representative republic. The vestiges of the Revolution, sanguinary and devastating as it had been, were obliterated--and the fair forms of art and science, were springing up in their freshness, and scattering their beauties throughout the land. The axe of the frontier settler had begun to level the wilderness, and let in the light of the sun upon spots of earth that had been shaded from the beginning of creation, and stately edifices of polished architecture were everywhere starting up in the more settled portions of the country. It is to one of those, situated upon the banks of the Hudson, near the junction of the Mohawk with that romantic river, that our attention is now turned. The building crowned the brow of a hill, that overlooked the waters for many a mile in each direc-mischievous archness of expression, "how hard I had tion. A clump of ancient oaks adorned the front yard, to plead before you would consent to be mine, and how and shaded with their broad boughs the velvet sod be- often you told me you never would marry? What was neath. On this spot, about ten years after the bridal the reason for that declaration? or did you only make festival we have described, on a balmy summer even-it, to render me more assidious in my attentions ?" ing, was collected together an interesting group. An Agnes saw the expression of intelligent meaning in old negro woman, gray and bent down with exceeding his countenance, and blushed. The husband drew her age, was sitting on a low stool at the foot of one of the to his bosom, and imprinting a kiss upon her still smooth trees, whilst four or five children, girls and boys of dif- fair brow, continued-"Yes, yes! you only wanted to ferent ages, buoyant in health and blithsome in spirit, try me-and many were the sleepless nights it cost me were clustered around her in various amusements. A too. I am sure you meant no more. Methinks, dearlittle apart from there stood a gentleman and lady, con-est, that apart from all other considerations, it were templating the smiling landscape that was spread far happier to be the centre of a circle like that," pointing out before them. The sun was just sinking behind the to the children, "than linger through life, single and western hills with its train of purple light. Tinkling isolated, the mere tolerated appendage of another's bells were heard in the distance, and various droves of household. Is it not?" cattle were seen browsing in the meadows around. It Agnes replied not; but turning from her husband, was the time of the day which Holy Writ tells us the cast a brief glance towards her light-hearted and beauCreator himself chose "to walk out in the afternoon tiful offspring, who were gambolling on the green around air" of Eden, to see that the work of his hands was all her, then looking up to the heavens, offered from her good. The hour is still full of inspiration and beauty, heart of hearts, a silent and fervent thanksgiving to the and in no period of the twenty-four, does the heart Deity for the blessings of her allotment. "Felices, ter more readily yield to tender feelings, or soft and pleas- | et amplius, quos irrupta tenet copula amoris.”

TO AN INFANT.

Dear angel babe! would I could once behold thee,
Ere thy sweet infancy has passed away !
Thou art like thy lovely mother, they have told me;
Thou wouldst to me recall her childhood's day.

Thou bearest her name, and thou wouldst seem her spirit
Embodied once again; and if 'tis true
Thy mother's lineainents thou dost inherit,
Than thee, no brighter blossom ever blew.

I see her oft when mem'ry's steps are stealing
Back to the past, in all her earliest bloom;
Then o'er my bosom comes a tide of feeling:
She sleeps the silent tenant of a tomb!

O'er her lone grave the southern winds are sighing;
At that sad, hallowed spot I may not weep;
But love, a cherished spark, pure and undying,
Must in my heart her memory ever keep.

But thou wilt live, I trust; in beauty beaming
And innocence, a parent's joy to be;
And may the future with rich blessings teeming,
Long days of gladness bring to him and thee!
Dear child of love and sorrow! fancy lingers
Oft on thy image, pictured fair and bright;
In my day-dreams her soft and fairy fingers
Paint thy cheek's hue of bloom-thine eyes of light.

And though perhaps I may not see thee glowing
In infant charms:-Ah! not when on thy face
Beams woman's smile, (my stream of life is flowing
Near the dim shores of death,) though none may trace
Even my name before thee; though no feeling
For me of fondness dwelt within thy breast;
A prayer shall rise, my love for thee revealing,
The prayer that thou mayst be forever blessed!
January, 1939.

CONSTANCE WOODBURN:

E. A. S.

A TALE OF EVERY-DAY LIFE.

BY MISS CHARLOTTE M. S.,BARNES.

CHAPTER I.

-Her life hath flowed

From its mysterious urn, a sacred stream,

In whose calm depth the beautiful and pure
Alone are mirrored; which, though shapes of ill
May hover round its surface, glides in light,
And takes no shadow from them.

Ion.

pose, she educated her from infancy in the strictest principles of rectitude. She saw that Constance possessed the gift of extreme loveliness, which may become so fatal to its possessor. She sought not to teach her child that she was not beautiful, which her own heart and the flattery of the world would soon have contradicted,—but she taught her that beauty in itself was valueless-that she possessed it in common with the gaudy tulip or the ephemeral butterfly; she taught her that when nature had granted a faultless face, the advantage was too often counterbalanced by ignorance or imbecility of intellect. She bade her consider how slight an accident, how short a sickness might deprive her of all personal attractions, and that then, all those adulators who had thronged around her, I would avoid and desert her. She solemnly enjoined her to cultivate her taste and understanding, to improve her intellectual endowments, to refine and polish all the native graces of her mind. Above all, she taught her that her only hope, her only stay was in religion; and that, without that support, were she endowed with an angel's beauty or a prophet's soul, she would be nothing. Constance profited by her mother's lessons while that mother lived; and her death gave an impressive holiness to all those precepts which it had been the study of her life to practise and inculcate. Time passed on. Constance was the guardian friend of her little Rose. The child needed all her watchful care, for, from her birth she had held existence on so frail a tenure, that Constance fear-" ed this tender tie would soon be severed. Too old to be a companion, she became, as it were, the parent of her sister—she held before her own eyes the image of her mother-and on that model she strove to form her conduct.

At sixteen years of age, Constance was left an orphan, with the little Rose dependent on her for protection. Mr. Woodburn had died rich, in the usual acceptation of that most indefinite word. His wife's brother took the orphans to his own elegant and luxurious home in Virginia. Being childless, he sought to make Constance stand towards him in the relation of a daughter. Her edConstance Woodburn was the daughter of a ucation continued under the superintendence of the merchant of respectability and wealth, residing, most able instructors that could be procured, and about fifty years ago, in New York. She was amply did she repay their care. Domesticated the eldest of five children, three of whom she bad like herself beneath her uncle's roof, was Edward followed to an early grave, and the hour that gave Delancy, a youth ten years her senior, the only birth to the youngest, saw its mother's death. son of a late dear and valued friend. In his perConstance was ten years of age when her mother son, he was a model of all that is noble and manly. died: too young, it is true, to profit by the in- When at college he had far outstripped all comstructions of a parent in worldly accomplish-petitors, and even in the domestic circle, where ments, but not too young to retain a clear recol- extraordinary genius is often least appreciated, it lection and scrupulous observance of that parent's was fondly hoped that he would one day shine in pious precepts. As her eldest hope, Mrs. Wood- the annals of his country's fame. burn had endeavored to instil into the mind of Constance that she was in a measure the guardian of her brothers and sisters. For this pur

When Constance arrived at her uncle's man

sion, her regal beauty, and the vivacity of her intellect, (though still in her first girlhood,) charm

VOL. IV.-22

ed Edward. A feeling of compassion for the lonely | could equal hers as she perused the work itself, orphan whose fate so much resembled his own, which seemed to promise Edward a never-dying strengthened this attachment. Being some years fame! Nothing could increase her delight, but her senior, she looked up to him as a protector, and the news of his return. How anxiously she antiadviser. cipated the moment when her own lips could conAt length, after two years had elapsed, Edward gratulate him! Her feelings towards him pretook his departure for Europe, intending to make cluded the indulgence of any warmer sentiment not merely the now fashionable tour of the conti- to others. Suitors were not wanting for the hand nent, but to explore in the most distant lands all of the lovely heiress. But her calm, friendly inthe relics of ancient times. He departed; his let-difference showed them that they had no hope. ters, long and frequent, related his adventures to Her most assiduous and devoted admirer, howthose he left behind. The glowing descriptions which he gave served but to bring him almost visibly before the eyes of Constance, and in each letter a portion was devoted especially to his little pupil, his dear sister,-enumerating the valuable curiosities he had in store for her, recommending various works for her perusal, and assuring her how dearly she was remembered by her former preceptor.

ever, would not be thus repulsed. This was Alfred Walton, a young Virginian of high family and immense wealth, and in every way calculated to make her happy. His affection, based upon esteem, was ardent and sincere. He persevered in his suit, and at length offered his hand and heart. He received Constance's modest, but firm rejection, and finding success hopeless, he bade her adieu, and left his native country, to find in fo

As

The long and protracted mourning having ex-reign lands oblivion and consolation. pired, as Constance grew older she entered into Soon after, Edward returned. With heartfelt the gaieties of society. Wherever she went, she joy did Constance welcome him; she paused not to attracted universal admiration. The native dig-analyse her feelings; she felt that she was happy. nity, the true simplicity of her character, which | A halo of brightness seemed shed around each repelled all fulsome adulation, produced an effect domestic duty, each mental occupation. as novel as it was striking. But little versed in months passed on, Constance wondered why the artificial accomplishments of fashionable co- they flew upon such light and rapid wings. She quetry, she was followed and admired at a dis- reflected; she looked within herself: she discotance. The thousand butterflies of society who vered that the spell which thus enthralled her, was fluttered round her, thought it were all one love! She sought not to combat the feeling, for she knew its object was worthy. Her own heart whispered," that feeling is returned." She saw not the wo that was in store for her; she looked with joy upon her future prospects, and felt that they were bright and cloudless.

"That they should love some bright particular star, And think to wed it, she was so above them!"

the hope is crushed
That lit my life; the voice within me hushed
That spoke sweet oracles; and I return
To lay my youth as in a burial-urn,
Where sunshine may not find it. All is lost!

Mrs. Hemans.

Some time after Edward's departure, the sudden appearance of a work written by him, astonished the literary world. Unknown even to his nearest friends, he had been long and laboriously engaged in completing it. The new and original character of the subject-the masterly and classi- Mr. Glenford, (Constance's uncle,) had invited cal powers employed in its delineation-the exqui- many guests to meet Delancy at his house to dinsite flashes of true poetry which gleamed in every ner. Women of pure and polished minds, men of page-the deep reflection and solid philosophy strong sense and grasping intellect were there to which appeared in a garb at once concise and cap-meet him; and Constance gloried in the thought tivating,-alike excited admiration and surprise. that in all that array, he shone pre-eminent. The With what rapture did Constance dwell on the sun of her existence rose on that day without a accounts of Edward's success, and how fully did cloud. The guests arrived: the dinner, an intershe participate in his triumph! But what joy change of social and intelligent intercourse, ended,