16 Man and Woman-Matrimony-Hymenial, &c. MAN AND WOMAN. Man is a rugged, lofty pine, That frowns on many a wave-beat shore; And deck its rough bark sweetly o'er. Man is the rock, whose towering crest Nods o'er the mountain's barren side; Man is the cloud of coming storm, Dark as the raven's murky plume, Yes, lovely sex! to you 'tis given To rule our hearts with angel sway, Blend with each wo a blissful leaven, Change earth into an embryo heaven, And sweetly smile our cares away. In the earliest ages of the world, women were in a condition of comparative freedom. They were not confined to their houses: neither were they treated as beings created only for the pleasure of man. In consequence of the absence of unnatural restraints, the manners and customs were rendered truly pleasing by their unaffected simplicity. Jealousy was then in harmless infancy; the existence of immortal souls in females undoubted; and pride, the servant of convenience. The daughters of powerful chiefs, and even of kings, were accustomed to the performance of such business as would now be supposed degrading to the female character. In the sacred Scriptures, for instance, we find Rachel, a shepherdess, leading her flock to drink at the well. The daughter of Pharaoh, with her attendants, had gone to the Nile for the purpose of washing, when she found Moses on the waters. Homer, (Odyss. VI.) represents Nausicae, daughter of Alcinous, king of the Phoenicians, in company with her maidens, employed at the sea side in, washing her own clothes and those of her five brothers. MATRIMONY. VOL. I. delicate flower, which indifference will chill, and suspicion blast. It must be watered with showers of tender affection; expanded with the glow of attention, and guarded by the impregnable barrier of unshaken confidence. Thus matured, it blooms with fragrance in every season of life, and sweetens even the loneliness of declining years. HYMENIAL. "The silken tie that binds two willing hearts.' MARRIED, In this city, on the 4th March, by the Rev. Charles Pitman, Mr. ROBERT STEELE, to Miss JANE, daughter of Mr. William Gillett, of Southwark. On the 9th March, by the Rev. Mr. Clay, Mr. SAMUEL LENTZ, to Miss JANE BERRY, all of the county of Philadelphia. In New-London, Connecticut, by the Rev. Daniel Huntington, Mr. JOSEPH H. SCHRIENER, of this city, to Miss ELIZABETH MCCARTY, of New London. In Washington, Pa. on the 22d Feb., by the Rev. A. M'Cahan, Mr. THOMAS BALLENTINE, to Miss MARIA FULTAN, all of Washington county, Pa. In Nashville, Tennessee, on the 14th ult., Mr. JOHN B. PEASE, Jr., of Mississippi, to Miss ELIZABETH WATSON, daughter of Edwin Dibrell, Esq., of the former place. NOTICE. This number of the Ladies' Garland is dated April 15, from which time it will be regularly issued on the first and third Saturday of each month. Communications are respectfully requested. PHILADELPHIA; MOORE & WATERHOUSE, PITTSBURGH, PA.: TERMS.-The Ladies' Garland will be published on the first and third Saturday A great proportion of the wretchedness of each month. Each number will consist which has often embittered married life, I of sixteen octavo pages, well printed, on am persuaded has originated in the negli- fine paper. Price only One Dollar a year, gence of trifles. Connubial happiness is a thing of too fine a texture to be handled payable in all cases in advance. This work roughly. It is a sensitive plant, which will being a semi-monthly newspaper, is subject not even bear the touch of unkindness, all only to newspaper postage. Vol. I. THE LADIES' GARLAND. WOMAN. May 6, 1837. Ah! woman-in this world of ours, And his the wealth of land and sea, Within my bosom there's a gush It would not, could not hush. My life-blood gives a sudden rush, And earthly passions fade away. And master of the swelling sea, No. 2. fanned the fainting brow of the white man, still bend over the fatal spot on which he bled, and where in peace his ashes still repose. I took from the trunk of the tree under which they were buried, and on which their names were engraved, a small chip, which I still preserve as a choice relic, and on which I have written the names of the two champions who decided the fate of that day. The Indians had long annoyed the few inhabitants that were thinly scattered over that portion of the country, most barbarously murdering men, women, and children. Often had the savage tomahawk been buried in the head of the innocent babe as it slumbered on the bosom of its mother-and fair daughters were torn from their peaceful abodes-dragged into a dreary wildernesscompelled to endure all the horrors of savage cruelty, and at last to suffer the most excruciating and lingering death. The father returned from his weary toils at the close of day, but to mourn and weep! His family were either torn asunder, or weltering in. their gore by his own fireside; or his house reduced to ashes, and no trace of its inmates to be found. His The Chief, who directed and conducted Written for the Ladies' Garland. these bloody invasions, was PAUGUS. THE FALLEN CHIEF. very name was a terror to all the white setIn the summer of 18- I nad the pleasure, tlers. He was a savage of giant strength, in company with Judge D, of visiting and more than ordinary stature; swift footthe celebrated ground where Lovell fought ed, cruel in the extreme, a fierce, vengeful with the Indians. It is in Maine, about disposition, unequalled among all the savage three miles from the peaceful and beautiful tribes that roamed the forest. By his cun little village of Fryburg, which lies embo- ning he had always eluded the most vigilant somed in the valley of the Saco. The lofty search of the keenest hunters, who had often pine and stately oak, still wave in silence sought his retreat, either to take nis life, or the boughs that shaded the savage warrior. secure him prisoner At one time, indeed, The drooping branches of the willow that they supposed him their victim; but, ou No. 2.-VOL. I. 17 18 The Fallen Chief. VOL. I. entering his wigwam, they found it empty. || seized the disappointed soldiers; and the next instant the bullets of the Indians, by whom they were now surrounded, came whistling among them from all sides. No way of retreat was now left them; they must fight or perish. The He was, however, near enough to see its blaze as they set it on fire, and to smell the smoke that curled among the tree tops under which he was concealed. At length a company, a few brave ones—of injured citizens,|| whose hearts yet burned to be revenged for The battle was long and fierce. the loss of some dear member of their family, ranks of the white men were beginning to started under the command of Capt. Lovell, be thinned; one after another had been cut with a determination to arrest the savage down, until the few who remained were on murderer. In their passage through the the point of yielding. Capt. Lovell himwilderness to the place of their destination, self had fallen, and most of his officers. they passed the log cabin of Chamberlain, to The day was fast closing, and the contest whom they made known their enterprize. yet undecided. The sun had already deIt was enough. He took down his old and scended beneath the mountain top, which well tried rifle-stood a few moments in threw back a gloomy shade over the water, silence-looked around upon the different when Chamberlain rushed through the wilmembers of his little family, as though per- lows to slake his thirst at the pond, and to chance it might be the last time, and then cleanse his rifle, which had become so foul bade them farewell.-Not, however, until a that it could not be discharged. At the kind kiss from the quivering lips of her same instant, and for the same purpose, the whose heart responded to his determination, dark form of Paugus appeared at a little was left upon his care worn cheek. She distance upon the beach. Chamberlain, for betrayed a tearful eye as she looked out the first time, scanned his savage foe, and upon the forest, for "she feared the savage caught his vengeful eye. His bold heart lurking there." But the conflict of the part- almost quailed within him, when he saw ing scene was short-he was on his way. the desperate situation in which he was Chamberlain's fame as a hunter, and as placed; and for once, he thought of the grave an uncommonly bold fellow, was well known-and betrayed a sigh !-Was it the last ?to the Indians. His smoky cabin was lined with "the gammons of the bear," and his bed was made of the fur of the Catamount. He was tall, well built, quick of apprehension, sagacious, eagle-eyed, and nimble on the foot as the bounding buck. And his strength was proportioned to his activity. A dozen of the savages would quail if Chamberlain only stood before them, with his rifle and hatchet. And although they thirsted for his blood, yet none of them dare hazard a shot at his person, for fear of the dreadful summons of his fatal rifle, should they miss him. They would pass cautiously and silently by his cabin, and with a significant shake of the head, point to his dwelling and say, "that's the smoke of the mighty hunter." After many a weary step through a rough and pathless wilderness, they reached the shore of a large body of water, resembling a small lake, since called, from the circumstances of the occasion, Lovell's Pond. From a lofty summit they spied standing on a distant point across the bay, a single Indian, which led them to suppose that the main body might be near him. They accordingly laid aside their packs that they might be unincumbered, and made for that direction. But they were disappointed. That Indian was placed there to decoy them. On returning to the place where they had left their packs, behold! they were gone. The savages who had laid in ambush had secured them. Consternation for a moment for his wife and children. Each deliberately proceeded to wash out his gun, while they talked to each other. "Now," said Paugus, exultingly, "me have you, Chamberlain ;' "No-no! me have you, Paugus," shouted the bold hunter. And each with unparalled quickness loaded his rifle. Chamberlain's was loaded with a cartridge, and striking the breech firmly upon the ground, it primed itself. And as Paugus was bringing his gun to his face, the ball from the hunter's rifie pierced his heart. He gave a death yell, and fell upon the sand-uttered an unearthly groan, and then rolled his eyes in death. The Indian's bullet just grazed the hair of Chamberlain, but left him unhurt. And after casting a triumphant look upon the fallen savage, he returned to the dispairing ranks of his companions, and shouted to them of the fall of Paugus. "Paugus dead! Paugus dead!" echoed from every voice. The savages caught the unwelcome news, and saw with their own eyes his bleeding body stretched upon the shore. They ceased their firing-gave a deafening yell, and then fled. The few of Capt. Lovell's men who survived, made the best of their way, faint and weary, and without provisions, to their distant homes. Those who were so badly wounded that they were unable to travel, were left to meet their fate when the savages might return. Their CHAPLAIN the Rev No. 2. Female Education Blanche D'Albi. 15 was among this ill fated num-character to domestic discourse. Conversation is one of the greatest joys of existence; and the more perfect it is made by the resources of learning, enlarged views of morality, refinement of taste, the riches of language, and the splendors of imagery, the more exquisite is the joy. It is from educacation that discourse collects all its original drapery, "its clothing of wrought gold," its thrilling eloquence, its sweetest music, and all its magical influence over the soul. Intelligence and animated discourse eminently exalt the dignity and multiply the charms of every female that can excel in it. The day dawned-for the last time he opened his eyes upon the morning sun, and sent up to heaven his last prayer. The savages returned-three of them fell beneath his well directed aim; and then the fatal tomahawk ended his sorrows. Three of the descendants of Paugus, many years after, by stratagem, sought to avenge the death of their Chief upon Chamberlain, but they, too, fell at the summons of his rifle; and the bold hunter was permitted to end his days in peace, in the bosom of his friends and family. His rifle is still preserved as a curiosity, and may now be seen in a small museum, kept in the village, about three miles from the beach. Baltimore (Md.,) April 29th, 1837. FEMALE EDUCATION. L M. It is a sacred and homefelt delight, She who can sustain an elevated course of conversation, whose mind soars above the trifles and common things of time and sense, who is distinguished for well digested opinions, sensible remarks, habits of thinking and observation, good judgment, and a well disciplined temper, is a perpetual source of blessing and exhilaration to all within her circle. She will make home all that is desirable, so that none of her household will need or wish to seek elsewhere for happiness. They will be able "to drink waters out of their own well." POPULAR TALES. BLANCHE D'ALBI. (Continu d.) L. Female education is of immense import-out of their own cisterns, and running waters ance, as connected with domestic life. It is at home where man generally passes the largest portion of his time; where he seeks a refuge from the vexations and embarrassments of business, an enchanting repose from exertion, a relaxation from care by the interchange of affection; where some of his finest sympathies, tastes, and moral and religious feelings are formed and nourished; where is the treasure of pure disinterested love, such as is seldom found in the busy walks of a selfish and calculating world. Nothing can be more desirable than to make one's domestic abode the highest object of his attachment and satisfaction. Well ordered home, man's best delight to make Twice since her residence in the famly of Mr. L, the monotonous existence of Blanche had been diversified by occurrences of unspeakable importance to her. Twice had she received letters from India-volu minous letters, penned by more than one hand, though contained in the same envelope directed by her brother. She wept abundantly over the first of these packets-over her brother's letter-his reply to that in which she had communicated to him their mutual loss, and her own plans to seek an honorable subsistence as governess in some English Neither rank, nor splendid mansions, nor family. It is easy to conceive the deeply expensively furnished apartments, nor luxu-affecting purport of that fraternal answer. rious repasts, can accomplish these results. They are to be obtained only from the riches of elevated principles, from the nobility of virtue, from the splendor of religious and moral beauty, from the banquet of refined taste, affectionate deportment, and intellectual pleasures. Intelligence and piety throw the brightest sunshine over the dwellings of private life, and these are the results of female education. Female education is extremely valuable from its imparting an elevated and improved Even from that fearful distance, the hearts of the orphans met and mingled. The tears of Theodore had blatted the lines, on which those of Blanche fell as she read, like summer rain-drops-as free, as fast, and as kindly, lightening her heart of the long-pentup load of unparticipated grief. But Theodore's letter contained one written in a different hand-writing, and though the tears of Blanche still fell as she perused those characters, they were the last drops of the shower, through which a sunbeam was al 20 Blanche D'Albi. VOL. I ་ of almost affectionate filial confidence with which she replied to Mr. L's accustomed salutation, was so irresistibly winning, that it drew from him another and another sentence, till at last he found himself chatting with her, almost with the affectionate familiarity of a father, and had actually gone the length of calling her "My dear!" without being conscious how insidiously the natural kindness of his nature had encroached on that dignified condescension to which he conceived it proper to confine all manifestations of good will towards his daughters' governess. ready breaking. Upon the contents of that packet she might have been said to live for many weeks for day after day her eyes fed upon them, till one of her little innocent observers asked, in a tone of artless sympathy, if she were not tired of trying to learn all that close long writing by heart, which had vexed her so much too, at the first reading? The second letters were as eagerly and anxiously opened as the former had been.But these were read with glistening eyes only, while the rekindled light of gladness beamed on the ingenuous countenance of Blanche; and sometimes, in the midst of some twentieth reperusal, as if her heart Mademoiselle d'Albi's continuance in the sought sympathy in the exuberance of its evening circle, or rather in its out-works, was happiness, she would catch up in her arms, usually restricted to the space of half an and half smother with playful kisses, one hour, while the tea and coffee were carried of the wondering children—as ready, how-round, and till the bed-time of her pupils, ever, at least to share the joy of their young when, with a silent curtsey, she left the instructress, as to participate in her sorrows. drawing-room with them, and having accomWith those last letters came an ivory work-panied them to their apartments, joyfully box, an elegant oriental toy, lined with san- retired to the unmolested quiet of her own. dal wood, and fitted up with many compart-But it sometimes happened, that Mrs. L's ments, each containing some ingenious party being enlivened by the accession of nicknack-some small tool of fairy work- several young persons, music and quadrilles manship fashioned for a lady's hand, or some became the order of the evening. At such exquisite essence in its flacon of gilded glass. times the talents of Blanche were put in The delight it was to the inquisitive children requisition, and she was detained to play for to pry over and over again, into every drawer the benefit of the dancers, whose enjoyment and compartment in this beautiful box! And was enhanced in no trifling degree by the Blanche was too sweet tempered to refuse spirit and correctness of the musician, and the often-asked indulgence, only she watched by the variety of beautiful airs in which she with jealous care, lest their little busy fingers was a proficient. Poor Blanche! how often should unwittingly injure any part of the in the days that were gone, had she tripped delicate workmanship; and if Miss Craw-it to those very measures the admired of all furd was present, she resisted with evident eyes, and the beloved of all hearts, amongst annoyance their importunities to be allowed the lovely and beloved, the happy band of her to take out of a cunning secret drawer (which young companions! It was wonderful (with had not long remained secret from them,) all those recollections in her heart,) how she two beautiful little pictures-"so beautiful!" could sit before that instrument, looking so they said, and "one so like Ma'amselle!" patient and contented, playing on hour after That one was her brother's miniature; and hour with such unerring touch, and unflagwhen they asked her if she did not love him ging spirit! Yes-there she sat, regardless dearly for sending her such a fine present, and disregarded of every creature in the gay she smiled and blushed, and simply an- assemblage, unless it were that every now swered, that she did indeed dearly love him. and then some gentleman of the party stole The little girls were not long in discovering, a farther glance of admiration at the lovely moreover, that the return of this dear brother foreigner, inwardly desirous, may-be, that had been announced in his last letter. The he could exchange his sprawling, bounding regiment was recalled to Europe, and he partner, with all her newly imported Parisian wrote on the eve of embarkation. graces and frippery clumsily tacked upon No wonder that, on the evening of that English awkwardness, for that young sylphday which had brought her such blissful like creature so elegant in her unadorned tidings, the fair face of Blanche was radiant simplicity; for Blanche, still in mourning with such a glow of happiness, as to attract for her parents, wore a plain black robe; and even the passing notice of Mrs. L, and a profusion of soft, fair, silky ringlets, and the more benevolent observation of her hus- one thick, glossy braid encircling and conband, as their young inmate with her pupils fining them like a diadem, were the only modestly approached the awful verge of her decorations of a head remarkable for its drawing-room circle. The exuberant glad-classical beauty, and the peculiar gracefulness of her heart was longing to communicate ness of carriage which was its characteristic and diffuse itself; and the look and tonellexpression. |