From the Ladies' Repository. THE WARNING. A TALE OF TRUTH. "There's strength deep bedded in our hearts, of which "What an interesting young gentleman Mr. Merrill is," exclaimed Sophia to her sisters, as they sat at their morning work. "I thought him perfectly fascinating last night; so polite-such a graceful bow-knows how to pay a compliment so pleasantly." she involuntarily exclaimed, as she retired from her daughters, and sought her chamber to give vent to her overcharged heart. Her daughters knew that a cloud of adversity had overshadowed their mother's path. They knew that her married life had been one of desolation. Never had the name of their father been mentioned to them by their mother. The eldest had an indistinct remembrance of a painful interview between her parents, which terminated soon in their separation. The younger ones knew not a father's love. His eye had beamed on them only in their infantile years; and when they witnessed the "I did not see any thing very agreeable in endearments of the domestic fireside, where him," replied Martha, as she looked up, ex- the prayers of the sire called down blessings tremely surprised to hear her sister express on his offspring, they often wept that they herself so warmly in Mr. Merrill's favor. were never to realize a father's tenderness. "He surely knows how to dance well, and || Delicacy forbade their asking Mrs. Wilmot that is his principal recommendation." any questions. Relatives mentioned him not; and they grew up to womanhood with this knowledge alone, that their father had forsaken his family, and thrown them on the world destitute. "O, sister, you forget his person, his manners, and his generous spirit, always ready at any expense to entertain his friends. See the difference between his conduct and that of your favorite, Marshman; who stays day after day behind the counter, to hoard up wealth which none can enjoy." A painful silence reigned through the little parlor from which Mrs. Wilmot had retired. Each seemed occupied with her own thoughts. Mary was weeping, and her tears had fallen unnoticed on her slate, obscuring a composition on which she had bestowed much labor. "Sophia, do not speak so harshly of my favorite, as you please to term him. Perhaps you are not aware that his economical habits are the result of necessity, as well as of prin- "I do wish, sister Sophia, that Mr. Merrill ciple; and that instead of hoarding wealth, had not popped into your head this morning; his money is used for the support of a widow- for my whole composition is spoiled, my ideas ed and infirm mother, who is entirely de-are so scattered that I cannot re-arrange pendent on his exertions. You will never hear of him, I think, as a defaulter, or as using the funds intrusted to him in midnight revelries." "Sophia is sadly deceived," whispered a young sister of fourteen, to her mother. "Our school girls speak of Mr. Merrill's character as suspicious. His employers, it is said, are becoming very uneasy. They cannot place the confidence in him which they have formerly done." Sophia's quick ear had heard the remark,|| and the reddened cheek betrayed that the gentleman was of more than ordinary interest to her. "It is envy, mere envy, that leads any one to speak ill of Mr. Merrill," said she, in a tone of vexation. them, and, worse than all, mamma has been enveloped in gloom, by a few idle remarks." "Mamma is too anxious about us, I think," replied Sophia. At this moment a brother of Mrs. Wilmot entered the apartment. He noticed the gloom which had deprived his neices of their usual hilarity, and his eye rested inquiringly on Sophia. "I have felt, for sometime," remarked Mr. Mrs. Wilmot had listened anxiously to the Converse, "that you ought to know someconversation between her daughters, and a thing respecting him, that you might better deep shade of sorrow passed over her fea-appreciate your mother's situation, to enable tures, as she looked on her fatherless chil-you, if need should be, to imitate her firmdren, just emerging into womanhood; so fair, ness; and, like her, acquire that strength of so unacquainted with the world, and she mind which, by the blessing of a kind Provishuddered at the thought that they should dence, has borne her above the waves of ever be the victims of misplaced affection. affliction, which almost overwhelmed her. She longed forever to screen them with a It is but a little more than twenty years since mother's love, from all the vicissitudes of life. || your grandfather died, and left your mother "Heaven preserve my daughters from the cup heiress to a handsome property. By his will, of sorrow of which I have so deeply drunk!" "his unmarried daughters could not come into possession of their share until their marriage day, and this circumstance may have induced them to marry rather prematurely. Many were the suitors who knelt at the shrine of youth, beauty and wealth. Your mother is now but the faded semblance of what she was at eighteen. Her heart was buoyant with hope, her figure possessed a fairy lightness, and scarcely ever did I see a cheek which glowed so beautifully with the hue of health. "Ann had just returned from Litchfield, where she had spent some time under the care of Miss P. Admirers were numerous; and many there were whose plain manners and farmer-like address gained them a prompt refusal. I see them now in affluent circumstances blessed with all that a bounteous heaven can bestow. They are men of influence and weight in society. O how these girls mistake who refuse a man because he does not make an elegant appearance, when he possesses all the qualities needful to constitute a good husband." "Sophia," whispered Mary, "do you hear what uncle says? Don't marry a man because he is genteel, I beg of you." "It was at this time," continued Mr. Converse, "that I met your father, Edward Wilmot, at W. where he was established in the mercantile business. He was peculiarly fascinating in his personal appearance-a general favorite with all classes, and possessed a fund of wit and humor I scarce ever saw equalled. His exterior was imposing, and his features finely formed, without possessing that effeminacy which often attaches itself to a handsome man. It is not strange that the inexperienced heart of Ann Converse was captivated. I well recollect the hushed silence that reigned in the church in M- -, as the young couple stood before the altar, and the venerable Mr. R- performed the nuptial ceremony. Beautiful! beautiful! was the exclamation of many, as with intense interest, and throbbing heart, I gazed on them. "Ann was but a year my junior, and I was proud of such a sister. She looked with such a trusting confidence on him who was soon to be nearer than father, mother, brother or sister, I mentally said, can he ever betray the confidence of that trusting girl, and plant a thorn in her bosom? At "The life of Ann Converse had been one of unmingled gladness, until the death of her father; and now her joyous spirit basked in the sunshine of happiness. The rainbow of hope arched her sky, and she wished not to have her dream of domestic joy dispelled as illusory. Mr. Wilmot removed his bride immediately to his residence in W. The first year of their married life was unmarked by any incident of unusual occurrence. its expiration, Mr. Wilmot concluded to move to a village about twelve miles from Ann's maternal residence. In that place, her property was expended in building and furnishing a splendid house. Her domestic management was characterized by neatness, economy, and order. There was much that was attractive in the household arrangements of Mrs. Wilmot. There was always a cheerful smile, and a well arranged table, to meet Mr. Wilmot, when the duties of the day were over; but habits long formed, will hardly be subdued, unless by firm principle. Wilmot noticed that the absence of her husband at his business was becoming more and more protracted. Innocence suspects no evil, and her mind was always ready to form a favorable excuse for Edward's delay. Occupied with family cares, the lateness of the hour would often surprise her. Mrs. "One evening she was waiting, as usual, the return of her husband; the candle had twice burned to its socket; she had read and sewed by turns to while away the time, and again took up the daily paper. Her husband's name arrested her eye. Can you imagine her surprise, when she found her best furniture was to be sold at auction the following day? She could hardly believe her eyes. Again she read and found it was an exact catalogue of her parlor furniture. Absorbed in painful reflections, she heeded not the entrance of her husband until he stood by her side. The paper lay on the stand before her, her finger still pointing to the advertisement, as though to ascertain if she were indeed correct. "Mr. Wilmot, with an assumed air of cheerfulness, exclaimed, 'What are you prosing over, Ann?' "His voice roused her. 'What does that mean?' she replied, her eye directing his to the paper. "O it is that hateful paper that distresses "The blessing fell tremulously from the you, Ann. I have been unfortunate-I am lips of that aged minister-their hands were embarrassed, and rather than call on friends, joined the ceremony was over-and, as II thought it best to part with articles that turned from the altar, I noticed a look, almost were not indispensably necessary to our comlike severity, that sat sternly on the features fort.' of some of my father's friends. Perhaps they were unconscious of such an expression of feeling; but as it was, it seemed to me an omen of ill. "Your mother's devotion to her husband was such, that it was enough to know that he had been unfortunate, and that such a sacrifice was necessary. 666 It is trying,' was her reply, but I will meet it patiently.' "The husband looked grateful, and with consummate art he directed her attention to the nestling babe in the cradle. The mother's tenderness was awakened, and as the infant pillowed its head on her bosom, the auction was forgotten; the smiles of the little one, beaming with love for its mother, helped to dispel the gloom. Edward kissed his gentle wife, and, confidence restored, she shed around her a fascinating influence. "The auction came, and furniture that was simple was substituted in the place of the elegant articles that had been removed. There was no lack of attention to Mrs. Wilmot, that could have induced her to think that her husband was irregular in his habits, except his prolonged absences. Time wore on, and a little group were gathering around them; and with the cares of a family Ann had less time to devote to anxious forebodings. But a damp was thrown over her spirit when the long winter evenings came, and went, and the erring one was rarely by his own fireside. When questioned as to the reason, the irritation which he betrayed grieved and dispirited his wife. Rumours were current of inattention to business; but she heard them not. The crisis at last approached: merchants in New York became impatient for their dues his notes returned protested, and Mr. Wilmot was obliged to close his business. The mansion in which he lived was your mother's property, but it was sacrificed with the rest. She loved her husband not the less for being unfortunate, and strove with unwearied assiduity to impel him to renewed exertion; but ah! there was a fatal secret that she did not understand—a poison in the cup of her domestic bliss. "The young couple had many friends, and Edward was soon re-established in business. But he was unfortunate-again they came to his aid. It was whispered that he played deeply.' Ann had borne their adversities without a murmur. She would not add to his trials by imputing his ill success to mismanagement, though there was something in his air which told that all was not right. He did not exhibit the same tenderness for his prattling babes-he rarely took them on his knee; and when their fond mother placed them in his arms as in other days, there seemed no music in the laugh of infancy, to awaken a father's sympathy. Mrs. Wilmot accidentally found several packs of cards, and these unfolded the page of her husband's misfortunes. She could now account for his nightly absences. She could realize the cause of that infatuation, which had desolated their fireside, and had made their once happy home a wilderness. The discovery was al death-blow-the funeral-knell to hope and happiness. She wrapped the fatal cards in an envelope, on which she wrote her name, and laid them in his secretary. Edward knew, by the drooping spirits of his wife, that his character was exposed, and that she had learned that he was a gamester. The barrier was removed, and from this time he plunged deeply into dissipation. He became entirely absorbed in his midnight revelries. "He was entreated to forbear-but entreaties were useless. I shall restore my broken fortunes,' he would say, and wealth shall again be yours.' An ignis fatuus lured him on-his health became impairedhis business was utterly neglected, and my poor sister, with her helpless family, were left without the means of support. He did not treat her with harshness; but O! such cruel neglect. He sacrificed at the card-table his property, his health, and his honour. The full moon, just sinking to her rest, often witnessed him stealing to the sleepless bed-side of his wife; till at length self-respect seemed entirely lost, and he would absent himself for several days, none knew where. Friends urged a separation. They had tried to reclaim him-they had remonstrated--they were at length disgusted. Their object was now to prevail upon Mrs. Wilmot to return to the home of her childhood. O! how the lone heart will cling in its bitterness to that which it has loved. She still hoped he would change; and when she thought of the work of ruin which had been accomplished in a few short years, how could she leave her husband to degradation-a lost—a ruined man? She roused herself from the lethargy which hung over her, and determined to exert herself to obtain an adequate support for herself and little ones. "To open a boarding-house appeared the most appropriate method of doing this, and in her efforts she was for a while successful; but Mr. Wilmot's infatuation was such, that all consideration for his family seemed absorbed in one fatal passion. Again and again were the silver and other valuable articles taken from the house, and deposited with the pawn-broker. Articles of dress were staked at the table. Large sums of money were often taken from the house, but never returned. Your mother found it impossible to contend with such accumulated difficulties. She arranged her affairs, and with five children-the eldest perhaps 11-returned to the home which she, a happy bride, had left twelve years before. She was but 30 years of age-still lovely-but sorrow had withered the rose on her cheek; and had it not been. that her mind was nerved with more than ordinary strength, she would have sunk into an untimely grave. The affections of her heart 66 had been seared and withered, her family Agreed-agreed," said Mr. Converse, as thrown dependent on the charity of friends, he kissed the cheek of his favourite niece. and he who was pledged to cherish and proA knock at the door arrested their preparatect, through weal and woe, had fallen from tion, and a domestic slipped in with a request his station in society and become an outcast. from Mr. Merrill to see Miss Sophia. The "Mrs. Wilmot felt, Never was there sor-party equipped for the ride, were soon in the row like unto my sorrow.' Although she carriage, and Sophia was left to a solitary drooped, she fainted not. She had learned, tete-a-tele with her fascinating beau. The during her afflictions, to put her trust in an tale she had just heard was sufficient to preunfailing Source of consolation; and when vent her from bestowing her hand on the elethe rebellious tear would fall, the murmuring gant James Merrill. Future events showed word would die on her lips, and she would to her that "all is not gold that glitters ;" and meekly say, 'The cup that my Father hath in after life, she was grateful that she had given me, shall I not drink it?' When she not been involved in the fate of the defaulter. looked on her children, she felt the necessity J. A. S. of exertion. Much devolved on her, and she acted with corresponding energy, devoting herself entirely to their education. "For several years I had spent my time in N- H -, my delicate health unfitting me for attention to business. I resolved immediately to come and reside with my sister, and aid her in her task of educating her fatherless babes; for so they soon were. But a few months fled ere intelligence was conveyed to us of the death of Mr. Wilmot. We mourned-but we mourned not as those without hope. A ray of light gleamed over the dying pillow, and He who forgave the thief on the cross, spoke peace to the departing spirit of your father. Yet we mourned that nature's noble architecture should have been so fearfully destroyed. We wept that the manly Edward had not power to contend with those fascinations, which were the wreck of hope, and life. peace, "You weep, my dear girls. Let the veil of oblivion rest on his memory; and raise it not but to dwell on his virtues, for he had many. Strive to fulfil the duties which shall be assigned you. Imitate the example of your mother in her tenderness-her fortitude-her faith-and may naught but peace be written on the page of your destiny." It had been an unwelcome task for Mr. Converse to speak thus of the dead, and he revolved in his mind some mode of dissipating the sadness which he had increased by this recital; and then recollected a ride which he had in contemplation when he entered the room. "My carriage is at the door, girls. Who would like to ride ?" "We will all go as soon as we get our faces washed, dear uncle," said Martha. "But why are you not preparing, Mary?" exclaimed the kind uncle. "Why," she replied, smiling through her tears, "I have to carry a composition to school this afternoon, and only look! I had it all written on my slate, and now you cannot see but a word here and there. Now I will go to ride if you will give me a few heads-my subject, The Old Bachelor." Written for the Ladies' Garland. TO BY MRS. M. L. GARDINER. That beauteous spot, o'er which you roam, "Twas there, my sainted mother smiled, There's not a spot but what still bears Within the sweet domestic bower, THE RIGHTEOUS. It is rare to find in the same compass more exquisitely Pilgrim is thy journey drear? God forsakes the righteous never. God forsakes the righteous never. THE DREAM IS PA ST. WORDS BY EDWARD FITZ AUBYN, ESQ.-MUSIC BY STEPHEN GLOVER. Presented by J. G. OSBOURN, of the Piano and Music Saloon, No. 30 South Fourth street. 3 The dream is past, and with it fled The hopes that once my passion fed; And darkly die, 'mid grief and pain, The joys which gone come not again. My soul in silence and in tears, Has cherish'd now for love for one, who does not know The thoughts that in my bosom glow. Oh! |