86 Lines to VOL. II. unpunished, nay, were boasted of, in which" to the block with her!" and his soldiers juster times would have banished the criminal from the brotherhood of men. rushed to execute his commands, but started back when they came nigh, as if struck by a spell. She was already dead! That flash of her ancient spirit was the last; yet, though her life had departed, the frame was still upright; the right arm she had stretched upwards in the vehemence of her anathema was still erect, as if appealing for its confirmation to that immortal Judge to whom belongeth vengeance, and whose wrath, like a flaming fire, "shall devour the wicked!" The effects of the tortures she had undergone were fearfully visible in the exhausted frame of Philippa. She leaned back helplessly on the sledge, her gray hair torn and matted with blood, or streaming in disorder; her white lips convulsed and covered with foam; the superhuman paleness of her features wildly contrasting with the fire that yet burned in her eyes, as she surveyed her tormentors with an expression of scorn and defiance that pain could not subdue. As they stopped at Disappointment, doubt, superstitious fear, the foot of the scaffold-for the more merci- racked by turns the breast of the fierce noful doom of the axe was vouchsafed to her ble. Slowly he left the ground, for he felt who had reared their monarch in her arms-that his work had been in vain; from that the bishop drew nigh in his official robes, his holy book open, and addressed the victim, to|| mock her with the offer of reprieve! 66 Philippa of Catania! I repeat, as I have thrice done this day already, and for the last time the offer of mercy. Confess thy guilt; name thy accomplices; and in the name of the Queen, I give thee pardon, and space to repent in thy remaining days!" Philippa looked up; there was a smile on her wan lips, the dews of death were already on her brow. "Wilt thou accept mercy?" said the official, "or is yonder axe thy choice?" "God will not suffer you," she said, in slow and feeble accents, "there to spill my blood, nor to wreak further cruelty on these exhaust ed limbs!" The voice of her cruel enemy roused the expiring energy of life in the bosom of the Catanese. "I will speak!" she cried-her tones suddenly changed from their former hollowness, now ringing loud and clear-"and hour all he could win must be won by blood. And determination as stern, but how far nobler than his own, was borne in another spirit. Joanna cast from that hour from her heart the abused softness, the lacerated feelings which had till now caused the woman to predominate over the Queen; the careless gayety, the youthful vivacity, the childish trust henceforward were to be strangers to her bosom; the soil of her best affections, a bleak and melancholy waste; life stripped of the golden radiance of hope, she was henceforth no more to dream of uniting the happiness of the individual with the duty of the sovereign. The sun of her morning, which had ridden forth so proudly in a smiling heaven, was buried in the cold gloom of premature twilight; a sullen darkness heralded the thunders that were ere long to roll, and the lightnings that were to flash, luridly and deadly, "between the daygod and its scattered worshippers." For the Ladies' Garland. HE, Durazzo, who reads the depths of that I'll give on thy page the fond pledge of my heart, Friendship's effusions, offering sincere ; That forgets not in moments of pain; unholy bosom, knows that I speak truth! I but pity you, hoary dotard! aye, and the deceived people whom thy satellites have wrought to frenzy-of thee, Charles of Du-May the feeling be ours which truth has imprest, razzo, will the innocent blood be required! The spirit of prophecy is upon me! As thou hast wrought with the sword, so shall thou perish by the sword! Not in the ranks of battle-not in the glory of conflict-but in the hour of trust, in the embrace of courtesy -by treachery, foul as thyself hast devised! by menial hands-dishonored and unrevenged! For her whose holy innocence thou wouldst dare wrong, whose name thou wouldst blacken|| -clear as yon radiant sun shall her frame shine to the eyes of men, when thou, duke, liest in the dust!" "Wretched sorceress!" cried Durazzo: Not that friendship be ours that shines but in calm, Through life, shining on through its gloomiest scene. As the touches of virtue can wake; Be the cement that binds us, sympathy's tear, No. 4. On the Death of a Sister-Ellen Moore. For the Ladies' Garland. ON THE DEATH OF A SISTER. Dear object of my love, my care, My never ceasing, tender thought, And art thou gone? no more to share With me a world with sorrows fraught! 'Tis like a dream, that I no more Shall view the face I view'd so long; But O, shall I thy loss deplore? May Heaven forbid a wish that's wrong Remembrance, ever busy, now Reminds me of thy infant form; It tells of sprightliness, and how Thy cheeks once glow'd with beauty warm. Sickness and sorrow, since that day, Had spoil'd thy mirth, and dimm'd thine eye; But time can never wear away From memory's view thy parting sigh. No cloud of gloom obscured thy brow,Thy beaming eye shone bright on me; 'Twas Mercy's hand! my spirit, bow, Ascribing all the praise to Thee! Dear sufferer! in the lowly tomb Thy fragile form reposes now, A home of rest where sorrows cease; In His redeeming love I trust, To Him I can thy soul resign; I yield thy body to the dust, Dear HANNAH! now no longer mine. I dare not grieve; but O, my heart! I bless thy all-sustaining power, I thank thee that thou heard'st my cry, May my poor heart distrust thy care; And ask for wings of faith, to rise Thou know'st my wants, thou know'st them well, I ask thy help, for His dear sake, O! give me grace the path to take, Dear Lamb! that leads to peace and thee. Philadelphia. ELIZABETH. ELLEN MOORE. "There hung the hopes of thousands."-Anon. "The beautiful-the beautiful Are faded from our track, We miss them-and we mourn them, But cannot lure them back: For an iron sleep hath bound them In its possionate embrace; We may weep-but cannot win them My story is brief; it will not detain you long; stop and hear it. I shall have to omit many instances and events, but fruitful your imagination will supply them better than my pen. * * * * ELLEN MOORE was sixteen. She was an only daughter, and beautiful as the spirit of a dream. Nurtured among pious friends, her heart was a stranger to guile. All who knew her, loved her. WILLIAM LEIGHTON was a young man of high promise, and high hopes. He was alike the ornament and the idol of the society in which he moved. Honor seemed waiting but for his approach to drop her brightest wreath. He was the pride of his native village. Having been brought up near Ellen, he became ardently attached to her. So were all. attachment soon ripened into love. It was reciprocated. He woed and won the beautiful girl. They were married. Who but wished them happiness? None. His How short are the periods of enjoyment! They pass away like the morning dew. A few months had gone, and William left his · young bride and started for the far westthere to find a home, and build him up a name; there to reap a golden reward for the many years of tedious study and toil which he had spent to prepare himself to enter the arena of life. He arrived there in safety. Every thing promised success. He wrote to Ellen that in one month he should be with her. She re ceived the letter, and anxiously counted the long days that intervened his coming. The time elapsed, and full of gayety and love he started on his return. Hope, what art thou? -nothing. Let us look on board the steamer in which he has embarked. She is strong and new, and seems safe as a rock. She starts! On -on she wends her way with the fleetness of the hurricane. She seems to spring from her element. With what fearful and increasing speed she shoots by the successive headlands, and fades away in the distance from each, all seeming but the work of a moment. Around her the water is a sheet of foam.Above, a cloud of flame and smoke flashes from her reeling chimneys. She dashes through the parting waves, like some mighty monster of the deep. Her decks swarm with 88 The School-Boy Spot. VOL. II. life are noisy with the hum of mirth and || beamed with an expression and brilliancy that hilarity. God protect her inmates. She nears a city-the Queen of the West. She pauses for a new addition to her freight of human beings. Look on board of her now. There is youth-yes! the young and beautiful are there, with their lofty aspirationstheir longings for fame-their anticipation of a long life and a happy. There is manhood, with its plans matured-with its experience and knowledge. There is age, too-old age, with its hoary locks and palsied limbs; with its piety, its hope of rest; with its filmy eyes peering almost o'er the bounds of time into eternity. There is Woman-tender and confiding woman, soon expecting to meet some dear child, or partner of life. There are fathers, on whom the dependance and support and love of a family rests. There are mothers, and their children are now crying for them. There are brothers, sisters, friends, all endeared to some on earth by the tender ties of our nature. All these are congregated on board that floating castle. All these are breathing, koping, loving and beloved. Slowly revolve the wheels. She moves.See how gracefully she sits upon the water, decked with her flags and gaudy pennons. Hark! That crash. Alas! alas!-the beautiful fabric has vanished. Nought is seen but a cloud of smoke and steam hanging over the place, where a moment since was so much life. Nought is heard but the pattering and splash of the falling fragments, and the echo of the explosion, reverberating among the distant hills. Where now are the hopes, where the beloved and beautiful? Like the vapor which arose from the wreck, they have faded away. They are no more for ever.-Age, manhood, youth, fathers, mothers, children, all that a moment since thronged those decks, the centre of hopes the most exalted, love the most pure, friendship the dearest, are now-in eternity! William, too, and all his enterprises, his schemes of ambition, and his affections and life, were in that one short moment made nothing. How narrow is the space dividing us from another state of existence! How brittle is the thread that holds us from the tomb!When and where we consider it the strongest, it is snapped, and we are numbered with those that lived before the flood!. made her look lovelier, if possible, than ever. Beautiful being!-she was fast leaving us. Her friends were gathered around her.With kind words, and a parting hand to each, she took her leave of them. Then with a calm look toward heaven, and with the sweet smile of a dying Christian, she murmured, Father, I am resigned'—and her spirit passed away. Hope, what art thou? She points upward. There they meet again.' * * * * * We reared a stone to her memory. Its inscription is all that tells the passing stranger where rests the remains of the beautiful and beloved ELLEN MOORE. For the Ladies' Garland "and dear the school-boy spot, We ne'er forget, though there we are forgot." BYRON 'Tis a holy spot-for there have past Those hours of bright and careless joy; And ne'er can cold oblivion blast There on that green and sunny hill, gone. I soar to that dear sacred spot; 'Mid wildwoods ne'er to be forgot. Her anthem to the golden hours. HAPPINESS.-An eminent modern writer beautifully says, "The foundation of domestic happiness, is faith in the virtue of a woman; the foundation of political happiness, is confidence in the integrity of man; the foundation of all happiness, temporal and eternal, is reliance on the goodness of God. From the experience of others, do thou learn wisdom, and from their feelings correct thine own faul DYMOND, in his truly valuable Essays on the Principles of Morality, a book which ought to be in the hands of every reader, has very properly devoted a chapter to the subject of war. It is treated in a most forcible and lucid manner. The principle he sets down is, that it is incompatible with the Christian religion, and consequently opposed to the welfare and happiness of mankind. It is truly an overshadowing evil; it is a monster that has convulsed the world, and filled it with tears, and misery, and blood. Above we give an engraving, said to be a representation of the battle of Waterloo, so important in its conse- 1 quences.* ERASMUS says that "those who defend war, must necessarily defend the disposi tions that lead to war, and these dispositions are absolutely forbidden by the gospel." Here, then, in the prevalence of gospel truth and influence, we have the great and effectual panacea to this mighty disease, the world's great calamity. The opinion of all, or nearly all, the good and great, is against the practice. In the whole sad picture of war, there is scarcely one redeeming feature. It presents nothing but a catalogue of wretchedness and crime. But may we not reasonably hope that in the spread of correct principles-in the diffusion of knowledge, the love of peace will be fostered, and war and its concomitant evils receive an effectual check. We think so. And we believe that the day is not far distant when peace with angel wing shall overspread our world-when the discordant and tumultuous passions of our nature shall be so far subdued and corrected by the pervading influence of justice and humanity, that legalized and wholesale murder will not be resorted to. But some may object, and say with a late writer, that the world hath not yet learned the song that the angels sang at the advent of the Messiah. We admit it, but we ask, is it not strange that the harmony of heaven should jar so upon human ears!-stranger yet that they who have known the baptism of the Spirit, should have no heart to join in the angel-anthem,"Peace on earth, good will to man. When will this fearful inconsistency end? Not while ambition stalks like a demon over earth, crushing the grass and the grain, and blighting bud and blossom. Not while the fierce yell of havoc rings out upon the air, and the fetlocks of his horses drip with blood and brains hoof-pressed from the dying and the dead. Not while power builds his throne of human skulls, cementing the horrid fabric with blood *For an account of this sanguinary battle, see Ladies' Garland, Vol. I. page 137. 90 The Clergyman's Daughter. VOI.. II. THE CLERGYMAN'S DAUGHTER. There is something of moral sublimity in that unbending firmness with which we see the virtuous man struggling with the storm, and triumphing with the panoply of his religion. It is easy to be resigned to suffering ere the thunder has yet burst over our heads: and tears. The red rain of battle shall beat upon many a field, and the half-gorged vulture shall sit full often at his awful feasts, daintily seeking living eyes as they look their last to heaven-widows shall bend in still despair over their fireless and joyless hearths, and orphans shall call for their slaughtered sires, but call in vain. War triumphing in evil shall walk abroad, staining the green-but in the strength of religion to wrestle earth with gore-and garments shall be rolled in blood-and yet the "disciples of the Prince of Peace will slumber on! nay, they will be active participators in the wrong, giving the continual lie to their professions." Think not this picture too highly colored. The earth is waxing old in crime; and the end is not yet. Still all should be done to stay this overshadowing evil; this can only be accomplished by inculcating in the minds of the rising generation those wholesome truths, those principles of peace, those divine precepts, which are so eminently calculated to promote the welfare of the individual, and when carried out to their legitimate extent, the good of the community. And here it is that the mighty influence of the female sex may, if concert of action be secured, be brought to bear on this all important point. Let the ladies of Columbia, the land most favored of all nations, set an example to their sisters in every civilized country. Mothers, wives, sisters, daughters, here is a field sufficiently extensive and inviting for the exercise of all your energies-engage heartily in a cause deserving all your sympathies, and worthy of your best exertions. Begin early and persevere with those little immortals confided to your care; instil into their tender minds the principles of peace. If this was pursued with all, a nation would rise up, deeply imbued with a spirit of peace and righteousness; and peace and national happiness would dwell within all its borders. And what would be the effect produced on other nations by intercourse with one so highly favored? Would not its influence be seen, and felt, and acknowledged? Would it not produce, in a good degree, a like elevated tone of moral feeling? In the wide diffusion of the principles of universal peace and philanthropy, the female sex is most deeply interested. Let them begin the good work by exercising that influence they possess in favor of the principles of peace and holiness, pursue it with a steady purpose, and war eventually shall cease, and peace prevail throughout the world. with the power of the destroyer; amid the darkness below to fix the steady eye on the eternal light above; as link after link is broken from the chain of our earthly hopes, to feel the heart clinging more closely to those which are not of this world; to stand alone upon the shores of life, and see the last plank amid the wreck swept from beneath our feet, yet supported on the Rock of ages; to feel the eternal hope deepening and strengthening but more intensely within us; this is to practice that hardest lesson, “Thy will be done." A few years since, I resided in the neighborhood of a venerable friend. A clergyman, and residing in the heart of the country, his life glided away like the summer stream in the quiet sunshine of tranquil affection. The cloud had, indeed, at times, come over it, but it had passed away. He had bowed to the hand that had laid his hopes in the dust; andwhen the bitter cup was removed, he had drank consolation from the fountains of everlasting life. One by one, the friends of his youth, and the children of his hopes, had dropped away, and left him almost alone. Yet one remained, who was all the world to him. Often have I heard him bless God that when the voice of his rebuke was heard, he had spared her, who now in the freshness of her beauty was ever at his side. It was the close of the Sabbath. In the calm twilight of a summer's evening I sat listening to the conversation of my friend. Near us sat his wife, and opposite his daughter; her hand clasped in his, to whom, the next day, it was to be pledged "for joy and for sorrow." The deep and beautiful serenity that pervaded nature, as it lay stretched before us in the quiet moonlight, seemed to communicate itself to our own hearts. The hills, the rocks, and the trees, lay sleeping in the clear light; while their deep shadows, concealing the rough points of the scene, marked but more strongly its beauty. Our very conversation was carried on in suppressed tones, as if fearful of disturbing the Sabbath stillness around. Allured by the beauty of the evening, the young couple walked out together, to pour forth the fulness of their hearts in the secret sanctuary of nature. "We shall see you to-morrow," said my friend as I rose to take my leave. "Yes," added his wife, "Annette expects you to |