26 Female Fidelity. VOL. II. "Listen carefully and attentively." mind as I traveled along the lonely road ||I walk through the valley of the shadow of which led to the abode of Mary and her aged death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with parents. Can it be possible, thought I, again me, thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.' and again-that she whom I had seen so re- "Doctor, I have a few words to say to you, cently, flushed with health and beauty-the and I feel by increasing weakness that they charm of cheerfulness upon her lips, the joy must be said soon. and pride of her family, was now the victim of disease, and probably of Death? Relent- With an earnestness of expression which less, cruel Spoiler! how dost thou love to re- I shall ever remember, she said, "You will vel and riot among the charms of female love- see Frank Woodville again-I never shall! liness, withering like an early blight the rose | Tell him I love him dearly and sincerely. that blooms on beauty's cheek; dashing at He has made that avowal times without numone fell blow to the grave, all their hopes ber. I never have. This has not arisen and expectations here, there to lie, and fade, from a want of affection-but from my youth and perish? How dost thou with thy sturdy and the natural diffidence and timidity of my foot love to trample over the fair fragile forms sex. of those we once loved, but now can love no "Doctor, please remove this lock of hair." more for ever. I immediately separated the large black ringlet which she held in her hand, oversha|| dowing her brow and contrasting beautifully with the marble whiteness of its surface. * * * * * * "Give this to Frank Woodville, and tell him a gift from Mary! * * Tell him I love him! * Oh! could I only sound those few short words in his hearing, I would leave the world contentedly, yea, triumphantly. Tell him the last words Mary ever uttered-the last accent that quivered upon the cold, pulseless lip of Mary, was the endeared name of Frank Woodville!' My feelings had now completely overcome me. I sat beside her with my face concealed with my handkerchief. Indulging in this sad train of melancholy musings, I found I had approached the house without being conscious of the distance passed over. I was soon ushered into the chamber of the sick. There lay the wreck of one, who but a short time since was glowing with health and vigor, exulting in the buoyancy of youth, and the "consciousness of existence." Death's dark doings were depicted on her countenance. I advanced to the bed, -she seized my hand with a convulsive grasp (which I can never forget) pressing it with a power as if all her expiring energies at that moment were concentrated in her fingers; she exclaimed, "Doctor, am I not dying? I have not sent for you professionally. I well know it is now too late to derive any benefit from your skill. I have sent for you as an acquaintance, as a friend, and especially so A momentary pause ensued, I looked around as the esteemed friend of Frank Woodville.-one short, suppressed, spasmodic gasp terYou know him, Doctor?" minated the struggles of the lovely Mary. All was over. The spirit had fled, and in its flight, had left impressed upon her face a beautiful serenity of countenance, a placid"Yes," she replied, “I know it, and imme-ness of expression, as if the soul had begun diately after his return we were to be united to taste the joys of Heaven before it had left in marriage. He, is making the preparatory the clay tenement of earth. arrangements for that anticipated joyful event -and I, must make preparation for the sad solemnities of death and the grave, with all their dreary appendages!" Intimately well, Mary. He is now, I remarked, absent on a visit to his friends in Massachusetts. She seized my hand again, and with a death-like grasp, uttered in a feeble, indistinct tone, "tell Frank Wood * * * Should this painful narrative ever meet the eye of Frank Woodville, I fear it will open wounds afresh, which have long been closed, by the soft plastic hand of time, but which never can be cured. I endeavored to soothe her by stating she might not be so near her end as she apprehended. But if she believed life to be so In the course of a fortnight Frank returnnearly at its close, her mind and all her affec-ed, but not to his Mary. His soul was contions should be directed and fixed upon Him only, who is able and willing to support and sustain her in the hour of affliction and distress. 66 gealed in agony. The preparations for the nuptial knot were thrown aside for the sad 'habiliments of woe." All was sorrow, sad.. ness, and distress. The hand that was to unite him to one, whom he regarded more than all the world beside, was motionless in the grave; that voice which he had so often listened to with ecstacy and delight, was now And I choked in dust. The glowing cheek on though || which he had so lately imprinted the parting She bestowed on me an inexpressible look of calmness and composure-a faint smile playing round her mouth-remarking, "Doctor, this have I attended to long before sickness brought my head to this pillow. can now say with the Psalmist of old, No. 1. Stanzas-Historical Collections. kiss was now mouldering and mingling with || its kindred dust. All the sad memorials left him in this general wreck of all-was the sacred lock of hair-a mound of earth-and a modest stone; which told him where his Mary lay. L. F. F. Camden, June, 1833. For the Ladies' Garland. STANZAS TO A FRIEND. I. 27 But it was in vain, that the venerated Bishop prayed for the departure of the stranger; still she hovered around the coast; and though evidently well manned and equipped with abundant armament, if any one endeavored to board her, or made any inclination or disposition to know who she was, she instantly filled away," and hid beneath the disk of the southern horizon. It was folly to attempt. to discover the name of the stranger, the Bishop at last avowed, and with a sorrowing countenance abandoned the hope of ever Say, wouldst thou, my friend, for the treasures of time knowing the cause of her singular conduct. Surrender the bliss true religion affords? Is their peace so sure, their hope so sublime As that thou hast proved thy Redeemer and Lord's. For what is the world-and what is its joyBut phantoms and bubbles that lure to destroy? The visions of youth, as they float o'er thy mind, May dazzle thine eyes as their plumage they toss ; And whisper that sin is polite and refined, And point thee away from the manger and cross: But what is the world? and what is its joy? A phantom! a bubble! that lures to destroy. III. Then ever be fixed in the purpose of truth: Be firm as a rock in thy march to thine home: For far brighter scenes than the visions of youth Await thee at last, when THE MASTER shall come. Then adieu to the world-then farewell to its joyIts phantoms, and bubbles, that lure to destroy. It was not many months after that haughty and overbearing British Prelate, the celebrated and visionary Bishop Berkley, landed in Rhode-Island, that a ship belonging to parts unknown was seen to hover around the southern borders of the state, and though she never entered any of the harbors that indent the seaboard of Rhode-Island, it was evident, that her commander, and her crew, would cheerfully communicate with the inhabitants of the infant colony. Her conduct was so exceedingly singular that the venerable Bishop indulged in a thousand speculations concerning her, and although he scorned to display any uneasiness, or to evince any discomfiture, he would often say to his female companion, "I would give a bishoprick, if that same ship would not annoy me. I fear her not; but then as she continually hovers around us, I cannot remain contented with her deportment;-would to God that she would leave us." Having thus abandoned a pursuit, which it was but too evident, would be idle and useless, the bishop became the more composed, and endeavored to forget that the ship existed.— He now watched her with complacency; no longer regarded her with a feeling of horror; and though she still continued to "lay off and on the coast," he was completely easy, and flattered himself that as she never ventured within the harbor, she certainly could not do him any injury. It was on a warm and tempestuous night in the month of September, that as the Bishop sat in his study, reflecting upon the events of life, and studying the crude absurdities, which afterwards immortalized his name, that his ears were saluted with the heavy discharge of minute guns at sea, whilst the ship bell tolled a solemn knell, which but too plainly bespoke the distresses of the shipwrecked mariner.— The Bishop, starting from his study, rushed to his garden; and to his utter confusion, witnessed one of the most appalling tempests that ever "shook down trees," or drove the affrighted sea gull from his native ocean. As The vast Atlantic was worked up to a fury; and whilst the raging billows lashed the ironbound coast, the flashes of vivid lightning glittered through the clouds, whilst the swift flying scud, as it ever and anon mantled the moon, gave evident indications of the approach of one of those awful tornadoes, which more than once have desolated Rhode-Island. the faint rays of the moon burst through the clouds, or when the lightning flickered on the bosom of the deep, on the distant verge of the horizon was seen the luckless barque, contending with the wild winds that assailed her, and each and every moment approaching that dreadful and flinty shore, which was destined to receive her, and to dash her out of existence. The sea bird uttered a dismal note, as if conscious that ruin stalked around it, and the rolling of the thunder, and the howling of the winds, originated a scene too sublime and too terrific for description. As the Bishop, with head uncovered and exposed to the peltings of the pitiless storm, gazed upon the sublime scene before him, his whitened locks floated upon the gale; and 28 Extempore Lines-Catharina Alexowna. whilst his tunic flapped with the wind, he assumed the aspect of a maniac, nor were the sensations that overcame him far more agreeable than those which torment the madman. Absorbed with contemplation, he had forgot the lateness of the hour, and would have remained motionless where he was till morning, had not his faithful female domestic sought and found him; and prostrating herself upon her knees before him, solicited him in all the fervency of female eloquence, to return to the cottage, and escape a tempest so rude and wild. The Bishop would have obeyed the wishes of his faithful Rebecca, but at the moment he was about to return to the cottage, a vivid flash of lightning burst from the clouds, and brightened the very universe; whilst a deafening peal of thunder seemed to shake the very centre of the globe itself. The flash of lightning played upon the clouds for more than a moment, and discovered all the horrors of the tempest-the frightful bursting of the waves, and the helpless ship, as she tugged and breasted the furies of the night. It was the ship of the stranger, and while she rolled and tossed "with head off shore," she endeavored, with the aid of what sail she could set, to work to the windward, and escape the fate that awaited her. The gale still continued to increase, and whilst the faithful mariner in the chains cried "by the deep six," the pilot stood aghast, whilst he beheld how rapidly the current urged her to the place of destruction. Horror stricken, the once gallant crew looked toward the gulf that was soon to receive them; the gale still increased;-presently the maintopmast went by the board;the storm staysail was rent in twain, and the helpless barque lay at the mercy of the ele ments. The day had already dawned; and yet the gale had not abated; the hapless ship was within a few yards of the reef, and there was none had power to help her-no human aid could secure her from destruction. The Bishop gazed intently on the scene;-he possessed not the means or the power of rescuing the unfortunates; but he uttered a prayer to the high Heavens in behalf of her wretched sailors. Again he looked towards the scene of desolation;—the ship mounting on the wave, was suddenly dashed downwards, and pitching upon the coral reef, was rent in twain. She careened but once or twice-her massive spars soon fell upon the surge, and whilst the hull struggled for existence, he beheld the companions of the ship, as they for the last time upraised their anxious eyes, and hoped for safety. Among others who presented themselves, and implored the interposition of the Almighty, there was a female, who, for a moment, stood upon the wreck, whilst she clasped VOL. II. to her bosom an infant child, and wept amid the agony of despair. But in a moment, all was over;-a tremendous wave came rolling from the "far off ocean;"-it assailed the wreck of the stranger ship;-for a moment she tottered upon the flinty reef, then plunging forward, in obedience to the impulses of the wave, was in a moment cast into the shades of darkness and oblivion. The ocean closed upon her; a faint shriek of terror escaped the companions of her voyage; presently all was lost amid the turbu lence of the tumultuous and rebellious ocean, and the gallant ship, which had long breasted the billows, together with her inmates, were erased from existence. The venerable Bishop, however, soon succeeded in discovering the history of the barque; but as our readers are not fond of "long winded stories," we shall leave the stranger ship, and her history, where we found them, in the bosom of the ocean. For the Ladies' Garland. Extempore Lines enclosed in lead, and suspended to the neck of a sea bird taken on a voyage to India 1825. Go-and enjoy the narrow span That God to thee has given, Go, trembling prisoner-depart, C. B. M. AN ACCOUNT OF CATHARINA ALEXOWNA, Catharina Alexowna, born near Derpat, a little city near Livonia, was heir to no other inheritance than the virtues and frugality of her parents. Her father being dead, she lived with her aged mother, in their cottage covered with straw; and both, though very poor, were very contented. Here, retired from the gaze of the world, by the labor of her hands, she supported her parent, who was now incapable of supporting herself. Though her face and person were models of perfection, yet her whole attention seemed bestowed upon her mind; her mother taught her to read, and an old Lutheran minister instructed her in the maxims and duties of religion. Nature had furnished her, not only No. 1. Catharina Alexowna, Empress of Russia. 29 with a ready, but a solid turn of thought; | on which they were married, the Russians not only with a strong, but a right understanding. Catharina was fifteen when her mother died: she now, therefore, left her cottage, and went to live with a Lutheran minister, by whom she had been instructed from her childhood. laid siege to Marienburgh. The unhappy soldier had now no time to enjoy the wellearned pleasures of matrimony; he was called off, before consummation, to an attack, from which he was never after seen to return. Marienburgh was taken by assault; and such was the fury of the assailants, that not only the garrison, but almost all the inhabitants, men, women and children were put to the sword. At length, when the carnage was pretty well over, Catharina was found hid in The old man, who regarded her as one of his own children, had her instructed in dancing and music, by the masters who at tended the rest of his family. Thus she continued to improve till he died; by which ac-an oven. cident she was once more reduced to pristine poverty. The country of Livonia was at this time wasted by war, and lay in a most miserable state of desolation. Those calamities are ever most heavy upon the poor; wherefore Catharina, though possessed of so many accomplishments, experienced all the miseries of hopeless indigence. Provisions becoming every day more scarce, and her private stock being entirely exhausted, she resolved at last to travel to Marienburg, a city of great plenty. With her scanty wardrobe, packed up in a wallet, she set out on her journey, on foot. She had been hitherto poor, but still was free; she was now to conform to her hard fate and learn what it was to be a slave. The fame of her merit and resignation reached even Prince Henzikoff, the Russian General; he desired to see her, was struck with her beauty, bought her from the soldier, her master, and placed her under the direction of his own sister. She had not been long in this situation, when Peter the Great, paying the prince a visit, Catharina happened to come in with some dry fruits, which she served round with peculiar modesty. The mighty monarch saw and was struck with her beauty. He returned the next day, called for the beautiful slave, asked her several questions, and found her understanding even more perfect than her person. One evening, upon her journey, as she had entered a cottage, by the way side, to take up her lodging for the night, she was insulted by two Sweedish soldiers, who insisted upon qualifying her, as they termed it, to follow the camp. They might, probably, have carried their insults into violence, had not a subaltern officer, accidentally passing by, come in to her assistance. Upon his appearing, the soldiers immediately deserted; but her thankfulness was hardly greater thin her surprise, when she instantly recollected, in her deliverer, the meanness of her birth was no obstruction to son of the Lutheran minister, her former in-his design; their nuptials were solemnized in structor, benefactor, and friend. This was an happy interview for Catharina. The little stock of money she had brought from home was by this time quite exhausted; her generous countryman, therefore, parted with what he could spare, to buy her clothes, fur nished her with a horse, and gave her letters of recommendation to Mr. Gluck, a faithful friend of his father's and superintendant of Marienburgh. Our beautiful stranger had only to appear, to be well received; she was immediately admitted into the superintendant's family, as governess to his two daughters, and, though yet but seventeen, showed herself capable of instructing her sex, not only in virtue, but politeness. She was determined to marry no one but her deliverer, though now deprived of an arm and otherwise disfigured by wounds; and in order to prevent further solicitations, offered her person the first opportunity, which he accepted with transport. But all the lines of her fortune were to be striking; the very day || | fair Livonian, who was not yet eighteen.He immediately inquired the history of the He traced her through the vale of obscurity, and found her truly great in them all. The through all the vicissitudes of her fortune, that virtue alone was the proper ladder to a private; the Prince assuring his courtiers, throne. We now see Catharina, from the low, mudwalled cottage, Empress of the greatest kingdom upon earth. The poor solitary wanderer is now surrounded by thousands, who find happiness in her smile. She, who formerly wanted a meal, is now capable of diffusing plenty upon a whole nation. To her fortune she owed a part of this pre-eminence, but to her virtues, more. She ever after retained those great qualities which first placed her on a throne; and while the extraordinary prince, her husband' labored for the reformation of his male subjects; she studied, in her turn, the improve. ment of her own sex. She altered their dresses, introduced mixed assemblies, instituted an order of female knighthood; and, at length, when she had greatly filled all the stations of Empress, friend, wife, and mother, bravely died without regret-regretted by all. 30 The Summer Months-Evelyn. O Summer! thou art fraught with charms-thou man. hood of the year VOL. II. But now the seasons come and go, the year itself rolls by, With flowers as lovely and as sweet I gaze on them and sigh And when the summer music breathes, I hear a broken strain, E'er echo of that loved one's voice swells not with it again. EVELYN. est the gazer and the possessor; often at once Beauty, thou art twice blessed! thou blessthe effect and the cause of goodness! A sweet disposition, a lovely soul, an affectionate nature, will speak in the eyes, the lips, the brow, and become the cause of beauty. On the other hand, they who have a gift that commands love, a key that opens all hearts, are ordinarily inclined to look with happy eyes upon the world; to be cheerful and serene; to hope and to confide. There is more The quiet of thy drowsy noons, the worn and wearied wisdom than the vulgar dream of in our ad cheer; The lambs seek for the hedgerow, and the hind the shaded nook, miration of a fair face. Evelyn Cameron was beautiful: a beauty that came from the heart and went to the And unyoked cattle stand and pant in the midway of heart; a beauty, the very spirit of which was love! Love smiled on her dimpled lips; it reposed on her open brow; it played in the profuse and careless ringlets of darkest yet sunniest auburn that a breeze could lift from her delicate and virgin cheek. Love, in all its tenderness murmured in her low melodi Their varying tints and shadowy form, as if an angel'sous voice; in all its kindnesses, its unsuspect hand, With colors wrought in heaven, had lined the beauties of the land. Those hallowed hours of peace and love, thy mellow star-lit eves, When in the sea the skies are traced, and winds scarce lift the leaves; And round the heart a softness steals which melts the soul in prayer What raptures in such moments dwell! how blest their mem'ries are! It was on such an eve as this when last I looked upon The countenance of one I loved, and had in years agone; The moon was shining, as 'tis now, when we together sung, ing truth, love colored every thought; in all its symmetry and glorious womanhood, love swelled the swanlike neck and moulded the rounded limb. She was just the kind of person that takes the judgment by storm; whether gay or grave, there was so charming and irresistible a grace about her. She seemed born not only to captivate the giddy, but to turn the heads of the sage. Roxalana was nothing to her. How, in the obscure hamlet of Brook Green, she had learned all the arts of pleasing, it is impossible to say. In her arch smile, the pretty toss of her head, the half-shyness, half-freedom of her winning ways, it was as if Nature had made her to delight one heart and torment all others. Without being learned, the mind of Evelyn was cultivated and well informed. Her And 'neath our window in its bloom the pale catalpa heart, perhaps, helped to instruct her under |