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they are wrong in their conjectures about your hav- 'No,” said Jesse,” I struck into it when I dag ing sent her away; but if you would not be offend- the cellar deeper to make my floor dry, and I found ed with an old friend for saying so, I would say that it was the entrance to the land of shadows and that when Elizabeth reappears, as she soon will, visions, so I put steps to it for the convenience of you ought forthwith to declare your consent to her descending and ascending. Here, my father," marriage with Jesse Ballentyne." said he, "take this candle and follow me; mother will follow you. Do as I do."

To make a long story short, Dr. Heilbrun, who was sitting with Mr. and Mrs. Steinbach alone, So saying he began to descend, back foremost, easily persuaded them to promise that if Elizabeth on account of the steepness of their stair steps, reappeared she should marry Ballentyne, now that which lapped over one another. They descended his relations were leaving the country. They be- about six feet to a flat rock under the cellar walls, gan to suspect that the Doctor had some hand in which rested on a rock above. Between was an the disappearance of Elizabeth, and that this mys-opening three and a half feet high and fifteen interious affair had some relation to Jesse Ballentyne; ches wide, leading almost horizontally under the but what motive could have actuated those con-hill at the end of the house. About twenty feet cerned in it, or what end they could propose to effect by the proceeding was as mysterious as the mode and place of Elizabeth's concealment.

from the foot of the steps the passage widened and rose over head to the dimensions of a small room. Here was a wooden chest, out of which Jesse took The next morning at breakfast, Ballentyne said two oil cloths formed into hoods to cover the head with a smiling countenance to Mr. and Mrs. Stein- and shoulders. These he put upon his compan bach, that he had had a strange dream an angel ions, instead of hat and bonnet, which he deposited had appeared to him and instructed him how he in the chest. Thence also he took two long pine might guide them to Elizabeth's place of conceal-torches, and having lit one of them by a candle, "If you will come to my room after break- and then put the candle into a lantern as a resource fast (said he) I will conduct you to her; for I have if the torch should happen to be extinguished, he full faith in my dream, and engage in two hours said, "now we are prepared for dreams and visions; time to restore her to your arms safe and sound. you have your dream caps on, and I have the visBut then you must accompany me to the land of ion torch that is to reveal to you this glorious land dreams and visions: there we shall find her." of shades."

ment.

This speech made the old people stare. They feared that he had lost his wits. However, as he appeared to be in earnest, they promised to come to his room in an hour.

In a few yards they came to a streamlet, the same that George and Jesse had seen in yesterday's exploration.

Here," said Jesse, "is the spring branch. It tried to get out by the way we came; but finding it uphill business, it squeezed through that crevice there and got out under the kitchen. See what a pretty basin it makes here. You would say it was only four inches deep: it is four times four at least. But let us follow up the stream, you can walk safely on this icy border."

When they came he locked the door behind them. His window was closely curtained, and a candle was burning on the table. He unlocked his closet door, brought forth another candle and lit it. Holding one in each hand he asked them to look into the closet while he held the candles over their heads, that they might see every thing distinctly. "You see that there is nothing remarkable in the appearance of this closet," said he: "yet there is a great mystery in it. Stand back a little, if you please, good father and mother, until I unfold its mystery." They stood back seriously afraid that he was crazed. Setting the candlesticks on the floor, and taking a screw driver from his table drawer he applied it successfully to two large wood screws that fastened down the door-sill of the closet-the to have composed for the occasie. sill being only an oaken board an inch and a quarter thick. When he removed the loose sill, two rings appeared in the flooring plank. Taking hold of them he lifted up the fore side of a trap-door, which formed the floor of the little closet. All this occupied only two minutes.

Thus he led them by an easy way to the great hall where the mysterious music was heard the day before. Here he lit the other torch, to make more light. Whilst the old people gazed with wonder at the mag nificent sight, and thought themselves in the land of visions indeed, Jesse began to sing. He had a rich voice, and was the distinguished singer of the neighborhood. He sang but one stanza, which he seems

"Now," said he, taking up the candles, "look again into the closet." They looked and saw a narrow flight of steps descending from the closet door. Why how is this," said Mr. Steinbach,

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"there did not use to be a hole here."

Melodious Spirit, awake and s Make these arches and curtain i Charm our ears with your spirit-vo And make the hearts you love rejoice No sooner had the magical echoes o $ voice gradually died away in the nooks argalleries around, then they heard the softest a notes in the world, floating around the and dy ing away like angel-whispers. Then a short pause, a voice clear and full chanted a sponse to Jesse's stanza, in these words:

sweetest

To the land of the vision and dream have ye come,
But welcome, dear friends, to my secret home.
Here is peace when it storms above,

Here is a refuge for those who love.

When these lines were finished, the voice ceased and the sweet echoes gradually died away. It was impossible to conjecture whence the voice came. When all was silent again, Jesse led them on to the farther end of the hall, where the passage opened to the left. Here he stopped and sung the following couplet :

Daughter of music, awake again;

Guide us to thee with another strain.

Immediately they heard the voice, apparently
Bigher than before, sing these lines:

Hither, ye loved ones, follow the sound,
Soon will she who was lost be found.

found themselves in the rock chamber with the window looking out over the river. The entrance to this chamber had been closed by a quilt doubled and hung before it as a blind. It was so much like the rock in color, that the passage seemed to have terminated here, until Elizabeth suddenly drew away the quilt and let the light flash upon the visitor's eye.

The reader may imagine the surprise and the curiosity excited in the minds of the parents at thus finding their daughter well and joyful, yet betraying no little embarrassment, from the consciousness that the explanations that were to follow might not be altogether satisfactory.

We shall wind up the story as briefly as possible by giving the amount in a few words which she and Jesse gave much more at large.

First, then, Elizabeth and Jesse, impelled by indomitable love, had been clandestinely married

"This way," said Jesse, with eagerness; " fol- in Pennsylvania, when she was staying there with low me."

her relations, and Jesse had gone, no one knew They followed all in amazement and with palpi- where. By letter they agreed to meet one evening tating hearts. They had all to stoop as they en- at the house of a certain magistrate, who for a tered the low passage through which the sounds double fee had agreed to marry them and keep had evidently come. Presently the passage grew their secret. Elizabeth showed her parents the larger and higher. They clambered up a some- marriage certificate. what rough slope, at the upper end of which Jesse left his lantern. They saw passages open, one on the right, then another on the left; but they continued along the main one, until it contracted again and seemed to terminate. Jesse stopped and sang in

a low voice:

Daughter of music, where dost thou dwell?
Cleave us a way to thy secret cell.

The voice which now seemed very near, sounded softly, as if from the face of the rock before them, answering in these words:

Quench thy torch and the day will appear,
The lost will be found and the mystery clear.

They parted immediately after being married, and did not meet again until Jesse became Mr. Steinbach's steward. But soon it became necessary for Elizabeth to reveal her marriage. They feared as yet to do this, lest Mr. Steinbach should be implacably offended. The discovery of the secret cave by Jesse, suggested this as an effectual hiding place; and Dr. Heilbrun, a warm friend of Jesse's approved of the plan.

Jesse in laying his new floor in the cellar, secretly contrived the trap door in the small closet. In due time he fitted up the broader part of the passage next that door as a chamber, by stretching blankets across it and laying down some planks for a floor. He furnished it with a small table, a chair, He extinguished the torches, and they stood for a couch, a large lamp, &c. Having, ever since a minute in pitch darkness and perfect silence; he was grown, been accustomed to occupy a room then suddenly the rock at the end of the passage by himself, and to shut himself up by night for the seemed to cleave open, and the bright sunlight purpose of reading, he found no difficulty in makJesse requested Mrs. ing all his secret preparations unobserved.

flashed upon their eyes.

Steinbach to enter first the room before them
through which the light shone. She was so
frightened at what appeared to be the work of en-
chantment, that she drew back and said:
"No! no! I can't."

On New Year's Eve, Elizabeth, instead of going to bed in her room, went into Jesse's after the family all retired, and the next morning early she took possession of her subterranean chamber. As Jesse always locked his room and closed his

"Then look in, Mrs. Steinbach," said Jesse, "and window curtain, when he went out, Lizzy someI am sure you will go fast enough."

This was said in such a lively and cheerful tone, hat she ventured to look in. Uttering a scream, alf in fright and half in joy, at what she saw, she relaimed

"It is Lizzy !" and ran in and met her daugh's embrace and both burst into tears of joy. The father and Jesse followed, and they all

times occupied his room during a great part of the day. After awhile, the discovery of the dry and pleasant chamber with the window over the river, induced Jesse to fit it with a glazed sash and a small sheet-iron stove, and other needful furniture for his wife's occupancy. Here she could spend her days more comfortably, and be more retired and safe if she should need medical aid. This

need came speedily. The water cave had been the summer was ended, it was found expedient to discovered, a ladder and a boat provided, so that publish the fact, for a reason that may be conjec Dr. Heilbrun could be introduced with perfect se-tured. crecy in this way at night.

We conclude by saying, that these young people did wrong in the matter of their clandestine marriage. Much trouble and suffering did it cost them. After all, the easiest and safest way is the way of duty. Whatever hardships it may cost, they come first, and the pleasure succeeds and endures. Not so the way of transgression, it is like some liquors, the first taste may be sweet; but then it turns to bitter and becomes bitterer to the end. These lovers would have suffered more, if their

OPHELIA.

On the evening of March 10th, Jesse found his wife quite ill. He went out as fast as possible; saddled a horse and galloped to Dr. Heilbrun's-had him on horse-back in ten minutes-galloped back with with him to a point on the river a hundred yards below the water-cave, where they tied their horses in a thicket, two hours after dark. Jesse had left the main cavern by the water cave, whence he had taken the boat, and landed it near the thicket. Thus they got unobserved into the cav-fault had not been extenuated by the circumstances. ern. They found poor Elizabeth in great pain and for a week her life was in jeopardy. The Doctor staid with her until the following night; Jesse having disposed of the horses, by turning the Doctor's loose to go home, and putting his own in the stable, before day. The day being Sunday, Jesse shut himself up in his room;-that is, he locked the door, and staid most of the day with his wife. The next night the Doctor returned home and brought his eldest daughter to attend on Elizabeth as nurse; his family consisting of two daughters, and a faithful negro man, being all in the secret. In a week poor Elizabeth began to recover; but she suffered awfully within that time, and was not fully recovered until the middle of April. From this time preparations were made for her re-appearance; and the romantic plan already described was adopted.

To explain somewhat those incidents in the great cave, which may yet seem obscure, it may suffice to say, that from the water cave where the boat was kept, there was a near way to Elizabeth's room that had the window, by means of a passage which led through a large room between the great hall and the river. In this room Elizabeth was with her furniture, when George and Jesse visited the cave, and when her father and mother heard her voice in the great hall. The sound of her voice was conducted to the great hall by a passage leading to the drapery that lined the great hall. This was the delicate manifold stone drapery, which had narrow openings between the folds not sufficient to admit a person to pass, or even see through, but giving passage to sounds, and sweetening them in passing by their delicate vibrations.

This great cave had rooms and passages which we have not described and cannot describe. Mr. Steinbach kept it henceforth closed against all visitors, except his own family and Dr. Heilbrun's. Other people heard only vague rumors of it. Most people believed after Elizabeth's re-appearance, that she had returned from a second visit to Pennsylvania.

For several months her marriage with Jesse was still kept secret, in order to let the memory of his vile relations fade away a little. But before

O rose of May,

Dear maid, kind sister, sweet Ophelia!-Lartes.

Fairest creation of the teeming mind,
And plastic hand of Avon's deathless Bard!
How freely gushes from the world's pierc'd heart,
The briny tide of Pity's deepest fount,
Drenching the page that chronicles thy griefs!-

We see thee in the morn of youth and joy,
With bosom bounding to the music vows
Of noble Hamlet; and thy trembling heart,
Woo'd by the summer of his genial smiles,
Opes the sweet blossoms of its earliest love,
Maugre the cold suspicions of thy sire.

But plot and counter-plot in thick'ning maze,
Pregnant with whisper'd hints of crime and blood,
Like sudden cloud, involv'd thy wond'ring mind;
Nor from its shrouded secresy, vouchsafed
One friendly wherefore to thy tortur'd thought
On father murder'd, and thy love estrang'd.
Alas! the agony of keen suspense,

And the soul-sick'ning pangs of hope deferr'd,
O'ertasking Nature, wrought a bitter cure!
More piteous 'tis, to hear thy crippled wit
Essay in scraps, the story of thy woes,
Than wholesome Reason, in his order'd speech.
O what a world of mangled sweets fell forth,
From the crush'd casket of thy virgin heart!—

There stands th' ungrateful willow that betray'd
Thy trusting footsteps to the death below;
Waving its weeping and repentant boughs,
But all too late ;-there speeds the noisy brook,
As all regardless of the harm it did;
And in its babbling triumph, bearing off
The flow'ry trophies of the lovely slain.

But newly rescued from the flood, thy form,
In peace, reclines upon the grassy bank;
Whose velvet herbage with a pitying kiss
Greets the pale cheek; the freighted robe that strove
In vain, to save thee with its buoyant aid,
Now, in its weeping grief, with strict embrace
Claims the cold treasure of thy lifeless clay.
Like the drench'd streamers of the fated bark,
Hugging the mast, thy clinging locks entwine
With wild and humid wreaths, the marble neck.
The wave hath wash'd life's color from thy cheek,
But stamp'd the lily of repose, instead.

THE VATICAN.

Calm now, the tumult of that troubled breast,
And quench'd the fever of thy hapless love.
If, from the placid brow, and look serene,
Our mortal meditations might divine
Thy gentle spirit's whereabout,-it soothes
Heart-breaking sympathy, to trust thou art
"A ministering angel" in the courts of Love.

Death's icy arms may hold thee; but Decay
His minion, shall forever stand aloof;
Genius' embalming hand, bath o'er thee pass'd ;-
Eyes, yet unopen'd in the future night,
Shall gaze upon thee, as thou liest enshrin'd,
Unmould'ring Beauty in th' embrace of Death.
Charlotte, Va.

SCRAPS FROM A PORT-FOLIO.

No. III.

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The most gifted men that I have known have been the

FRANKLIN'S EPITAPH, COMPOSED BY HIM-least addicted to depreciate either friends or foes.-Sharp.

SELF.

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Man may plough the earth and cut his way through moun-I have seen and lamented this propensity, the tendertains or contract rivers into canals, for the transport of his cy has been exactly opposite, and, we suspect, hu merchandise, but if his fleets for a moment furrow the been carried to excess. Their objections to heroe Ocean, its waves as instantly efface this slight mark of ser

vitude, and it again appears such as it was on the first day

of its creation.-Corinne.

C. C.

are partly intellectual and partly moral. As Taci tus says: Credunt militaribus ingeniis subtilitatem deesse, quia castrensis jurisdictio secura et obtu. sior ac plura manu agens, calliditatem fori non ererceat. The philosophic Burke, on the other hand, has remarked that an habitual exercise of this very calliditas fori disqualifies for liberal and compre

CONNECTION BETWEEN THE QUALITIES OF A GREAT hensive statesmanship. However that may be ex

COMMANDER AND A GREAT STATESMAN.

perience proves that there are few if any instances in which military genius of the highest order is combined with political incapacity. A great gen

It has often been made a question how far spleneral may sometimes have lived so exclusively in did military success indicates qualification for civil camps as to be ignorant of the forms of political administration. To no people under the sun can business. But while he may not understand, and this be a more interesting question than to ours. may be inclined to despise technical minutiæ, the At all times, and in all countries, the populace has same intuitive practical sagacity which has made been more dazzled by a military reputation than any him a great commander, will soon render him masother, and even persons of the most cultivated in-ter of every thing essential to a successful admintellect, of the coolest judgment, and most refined sen-istration.

sibility, have not been proof against its fascination. He never refines, nor speculates, nor hesitates, But in these United States, whose true policy is but is always decided, energetic, and practical. peace, there is an absolute and an increasing mania His character must contain all the elements of adabout military heroes. The war of the Revolu- ministrative talent. He may be neither a Milton, tion furnished one military President, (if he who was greater in peace than in war, can properly be called military,) two distinguished in the war of 1812 have filled the presidential chair, and how many Mexican heroes will rise to that eminence, it is now hard to foresee, but we may safely predict that there will be several.

The military tendency, therefore, "has increased" and "is increasing" we propose to inquire whether it "ought to be diminished."

It is easy to account for the popularity of the hero, especially with the unthinking multitude. His achievements are not only more brilliant, but more palpable, and apparently more substantial than those of the orator, legislator, judge, or diplomatist. If he has distinguished himself in defensive warfare, his countrymen feel all the gratitude due to one who has preserved their rights, their property, and perhaps their lives. No reasoning nor persuasion can make them sensible of equal obligation to those who have done them equal or perhaps greater service, by calm legislative, diplomatic or executive wisdom, industry, and sagacity.

a Bacon, nor a Demosthenes; but he must possess that wisdom of action far more important to a statesman than imagination, or philosophy or eloquence.

His acquirements and qualifications are not limited to the narrow sphere which some imagine. Tactics, fortification, gunnery and engineering may be acquired, and thoroughly acquired by men of limited intellect, utterly incapable of enlarged views either in war or peace. But these bear about the same proportion to all the accomplishments of a great leader which orthography and geography do to a complete education. It is not enough that he should know how "to set a squadron in the field" to plant or point a cannon, or throw up a fortification secundum artem. All these things he must do, but be must not leave others of far greater moment undone. He must not be a military pedant, who, like General Braddock, imagines that Indian savages must be encountered, as Marlborough met the French at Blenheim, or like the old Hungarian, who accused Bonaparte of gross ignorance, because he attacked in front, flank or rear, as circumstances and his own genius prompted. He must not only be perfectly acquainted with the resources and character of the nation to which he belongs as well as of the country in or against which he is warring, but capable of making that knowledge available in every emergency. He must study the finances, the agriculture, the commerce and manufactures of his enemies, their history, their relations with other mations, their peculiar genius, and the means by which, as the case may be, they can be inspired with terror, or soothed into submission or accommodation. But with writers of the modern peace school, who He must not only possess ever ready information

If his military genius has shone forth in a war of aggression, he will excite the admiration even of those who consider the war itself as unauthorized by any principle of justice or expediency. This has been strikingly exemplified in the war which has just closed; many have forgotten what they themselves regarded as its unjust commencement in its brilliant successes, and all have united in pœans to our victorious commanders.

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