was, of course, that of making a good match,' "In the days of their equal prosperity the two families had been intimate, but their unequal adversity had brought out in such strong relief the lights and shades of their character, and their paths seemed so opposite, that, without any disagreement, calls became less frequent, till sometimes they did not meet for mouths together. ་ mer, when London is full of the fashionable world,' and when, consequently, the descending grades of society, following their example, revel also in gaiety and visiting. A party was projected to take place in the showy but really wretched home of the Sanderses; and little could the invited guests suggest the crooked plans-laughable, if they were not most melancholy-to which their hosts must have recourse ere they could receive them; the curious stratagems, born of the inventive mother, Necessity, by which they must keep the bubble appearances' from bursting. At the present moment, how to obtain a little money to purchase articles for which they could not obtain credit, was the question in agitation between mother and daughter. There was a loud rat-tat at the doorsurely street-door knockers are nowhere so noisy as in London-and presently Mr. George entered the room, drawing off a pair of lemon-colored gloves, the cost of which might have given them all a better dinner than they had tasted that day. "Just met Harry Freeman,' he exclaimed, throwing himself into the nearest chair; and finding that he received no answer to this important piece of information, he continued, 'What luck some people have to be sure!' 66.6 Has he been in luck's way, then?' inquir ed Mrs. Sanders. "Only that he has been pushed up over the heads of clerks of a dozen years' standing, and made foreign correspondent in ——————'s house.' "I should think his sisters would give up teaching now,' said Clara, with an emphasis on the last word. "I don't believe it-they are such screws,' I declare I would not have 666 "Five years glided away. At the end of that time Clara Sanders was still unmarried; and though at last, wearied and worn out with waiting for some unexceptionable and lucrative employment to present itself, her brother had accepted a situation, it was one infinitely inferior in point of remunerative advantages to several he had rejected; but then it was perfectly 'gen-replied her brother. teel;' and he was released from business in time worn the coat he had on.' to join in the fashionable promenades, and had "What!--shabby?" no veto put upon evening parties. Bred up in a bad school, he did not perceive that his position' was one that to a high and upright mind would have appeared positively degrading. His paltry salary scarcely found him in pocket money and cigars, while for his real maintenance the strong able-bodied man of twenty-two was indebted to an impoverished and hard-working father; nay, worse, to a parent involved in debt and surrounded with difficulties. To my thinking, the world in this nineteenth century knows no such martyrs as those who are struggling to uphold themselves in a false position. 'No, not shabby; but such a cut! East of Temple Bar all over.' "It was a warm evening, just at that season of the year when Spring is melting into Sum "There was a slight whispering between mother and daughter. "If you do that,' said Mrs. Sanders, 'you must invite them.' "He will be too busy to come,' replied Clara; ' and they will be sure to wear white muslin ; girls always look nice in that.' "George and you might walk there this evening; it would be better than writing.' "I'll leave you at the door, and call for you in half an hour,' said he, as they walked along; for he had learned that her mission was not solely to invite their old friends to join the eve ning party, and his cowardly vanity shrunk from being present when the other solicitation was made. "Clara found Mary and her brother studiously engaged with a German master, and Fanny and Mrs. Freeman busily plying the needle. She must seek a private audience for her more important request; but she felt that she was giv ing her friends a little consequence,' by inviting them to the party before the stranger. "We are particularly engaged on Wednesday,' said Mary; 'very particularly,' she added, with a smile, which somehow or other brought a blush to the cheeks of her sister Fanny. "Clara expressed in courteous phrase all due regrets that they should not have the pleasure of seeing them, with all the et ceteras usual on such occasions; and on the first opportunity, asked to speak to her in private for five minutes. It was not an agreeable thing to ask the loan of five pounds, and she put it off yet another moment, by dwelling once more on the disappointment Mrs. Sanders would feel at not seeing her young friends. "When I tell you,' said Fanny Freeman, now released from all restraint, that our dear Fanny is going to be married on Thursday morning, you will see that it is not likely we should go to a party the night before. Though indeed we seldom go into any thing like gaiety; you know we cannot afford finery and coach hire.' "In her astonishment Clara could not help ejaculating, 'That chit Fanny 66 6 Nay, though younger than we are,' said Mary, she is two-and-twenty.' "Is it a good match?' asked Clara. "Excellent, I think,' replied Mary, again smiling, and now at her friend's use of that vulgar hackneyed phrase, inasmuch as her intended is a gentleman of the highest character. Their attachment I believe to be a most warm and sincere one; and though not absolutely rich, he can surround her with all the comforts of life. I assure you I rejoice that she did not accept either of the other offers she received, although they were what the world calls better ones.' “Other offers!-and yet you never go out ! exclaimed Clara with undisguised astonishment. "I sometimes think they must have been because we never put ourselves in the way of seeking admirers.' "Clara was not inclined to ask what Mary meant by using the plural 'we,' and so she proceeded to seek the loan. "I will lend it you with pleasure,' replied the kind-hearted girl, if you will promise to return it to me by the first of next month. It is part of what I have put away to pay for our les sons in German and Spanish, and the quarter will be due then. I do not think Harry will need to go on any longer, for he has a talent for acquiring languages, and he has fagged very hard for the last three years. I am not so quick, and shall take lessons till Christmas, if I can possibly afford it.' "The promise was given; ay, and I am afraid without even the positive intention of fulfilling it. For those who are slaves to 'appearances' live only in the present, and regard the future but little. "The first of the month arrived—the second— ¦ the third-and no communication from the Sanderses. On the fourth came a letter full of excuses and apologies. Mary had discrimination | enough to read through such phrases the simple truth-that they had not the money. She was too sorry for them to feel angry, though the disappointment to herself was a serious one. She determined to break off her lessons for a few weeks, until she could replace the sum she had generously lent and-lost. Those who know what it is to study ardently, and with a specific object in view, will believe how vexatious such an interruption was. How the party 'went off,' or what further stratagems the Sanders family resorted to during the ensuing months, there is no record to show. Ashamed of seeing the friend she had wronged, Clara took no further notice of the broken promise, putting off perhaps from time to time the fulfilment of some vague intention she might have formed of calling or writing again. But the crisis was coming; the bubble was bursting; appearances could be kept up no longer. One of the many penalties attending those who struggle to maintain a false position is, that they seldom or never draw round them friends able or willing to assist them in the dark! hour of adversity. The really high minded and generous, who would respect honest poverty, and hold out a helping hand to it in the time of need, recoil from the mockeries of life and all false people; instinctively they shun them, and so know them not. Of all their butterfly associates, the Sanderses had not one of whom to seek counsel or aid in the hour of their second and deeper fall. Deeper, indeed; for now was disgrace. The world saw that the ruin came from personal extravagance; and creditors cheated, as they believed themselves to have been, intentionally, were different to deal with from sufferers by mercantile failure. When Clara next called on Mary Freeman, it was with humbled mien and tearful eyes, not to pay the borrowed money, but to seek a further loan of a few shillings. Fortune had smiled upon the orphans. With Harry's increased salary, he had insisted that Mary should confine her earnings to the defraying her own personal expenses-thus she had already saved money. 646 'Say no more about the old debt, my dear Clara,' she exclaimed; 'I long ago looked upon it as a gift; that is, if you would accept it from an old friend. I should have written to tell you so, but I feared to hurt your feelings.' And she slipped another bank note into her hand, to be returned whenever she grew rich.' "And this was the friend whom for years she had slighted!—whom her mother had hesitated to invite to the house, lest she should appear ill dressed! The good that was in her nature seemed to rise above the evil teaching by which it had been crushed, and, throwing herself on her knees, she buried her face in Mary's lap, and burst into a passionate flood of tears. 66 6 My poor girl,' said Mary, herself somewhat overcome by the interview, I do feel for you. I know what poverty is-bitter and hard to bear. Yet it is a foe that, to be conquered, must be bravely met. You are still young— been frittered away in folly and the pursuit of mockeries and unreal vanities. "Most melancholy is it to witness the misfortunes of those who suffer for the faults of their parents; yet rarely is this denunciation of Scripture avoided. In few things, indeed, are cause and effect so easily traced. And surely, of all injuries inflicted on the young, none is so fatal as evil training. Clara's young brother and sister, mere children still, have, to my thinking, a better chance of prosperity than she had. Plunged as they are into absolute and acknowledged poverty, at least they escape the misery of a 'false position;' they have a firm footing, from which let us hope that, by some honest means, they may rise to comfort and independence. As for George, selfish and idle habits, it is true, had taken deep root in his nature; yet he was young, and in those few words lies a world of hope. The thin ice of false appearances had broken beneath him, and for that, were he already wise, he would have been most thankful, yea, though for the time he were plunged into very troubled waters. They could not have stranded him on a more insecure resting place. I know not his present lot. "Another four years passed away, bringing myriads of changes-some sudden, some gradual-to many a hearth and home. During this period Mrs. Freeman, who had been for many years in delicate health, was taken from her children; but, saving this bereavement, her fa "But you have overcome your troubles; mily had prospered beyond the brightest paintmine are just beginning.' "I have worked very hard for six years, it is true, and I have had my reward.' "'I-I,' exclaimed the wretched Clara, wringing her hands, feel older-much older than I am. I have seen so much misery, so much falsity; all the energy of my youth seems gone.' "Some of it will come back when you set yourself resolutely to some suitable occupation. Independence is so delightful a feeling, and the money one earns so very sweet, so much more one's own than any other can be. No one ever forgets his or her first earnings, and you have this pleasant emotion still to know!' ings of hope. The affection between Mary and her brother was something beautiful to contemplate. His life had been too busy to afford him much time to cultivate acquaintances; thus his warm affections were concentrated on a few very dear friends, and his sisters, especially Mary, to whom he looked up with no small degree of reverence as well as love. The most perfect confidence had always subsisted between them; yet now, for the first time, Mary suspected that Harry hid some secret from her. The mystery, whatever it might be, seemed not of a disagreeable kind; yet that there was a mystery, she felt certain, else why so many letters-some of them, too, looking like tradesmen's bills-about which he said not a word, though he generally looked rather pleased than otherwise when he opened them? True, he had told her an acquaintance of his was furnishing a house, and had consulted him a good deal about it; and he, appealing to Mary's taste as superior to that of two gentlemen, insisted on her deciding on sev room, and many such et ceteras. It was rather odd, she thought; but Mary retained the simplicity of character inseparable from a truthful nature, and nothing doubted. eral matters-choosing paper for a drawing-wise example and brave words have made me what I am. Nay, do not start and look so wildly; indeed I can afford this home; ay, and the saddie-horse in the stable, and half a hundred things I have yet to show you. I am partner in the house where I served-I hope faithfully. That I should become so, was almost the last wish expressed by Mr. the head of the firm, on his death-bed." "One day Harry Freeman proposed an excursion some half dozen miles from town, to visit the residence of this mysterions friend. It was a beautiful day in Spring, when every thing in, nature seems to gladden the heart; and exhila- į rated by the ride, Mary was in high spirits when, they drove up to the gates of a substantial villa, beautifully situated on the rise of a hill which commanded a fine view-the house being surrounded with extensive and highly cultivated pleasure grounds. When they entered the dwelling, Mary found that every thing corresponded with the outward appearance of elegance. One room, especially, seemed to charm her—a sort of breakfast-parlor or morning-room, in which books and musical instruments were arranged, and which, leading into a conservatory, seemed to hint that the intended occupier had a feminine passion for flowers. "I suppose this beautiful house, this exquisite room, are intended for some young and interesting bride?' exclaimed Mary. "No, my dear sister, not so,' replied Harry. 'Sit down on this sofa beside me, and I will give you a brief history of the owner of this dwelling. There was a poor boy thrown adrift on the world without friends, without money. He remembers to this day that he felt himself as if cast on an ocean without anchor, or compass, or rudder. There was no settled purpose in his young heart, which was filled with bitter recollections of indulgences no more to be tasted, and overgrown with wrong notions and false pride of all sorts. To the beautiful example of one dear relative, and to words which, on a day of most intense agony, he heard from her young lips as a message from on high, he feels that, under Heaven, he owes a degree of worldly prosperity almost unparalleled. It is for this sweet relative and himself,' he added, smiling, if she will let him share her home, that he has prepared this abode. Do you not think he does right to devote his income to her confort, her enjoyment?' 'Twas a calm and quiet evening Moonlight, soft and pure and holy, Like an angel smiling there. On the peaceful wave asleep,— Seeming, in their lustrous beauty, Floating jewels on the deep. Heaven and Earth the while seemed blending Gently mingling into one, Till the world was robed in glory, Oh! the rare and hallowed beauty By its soft, persuasive power Far away from aught unholy, Till earth's cares no more were mine Till one high and holy impulse Ruled alone my spirit's shrine. ה it Then amid the dreamy moonlight, Came a holy spirit-guest,- Then, in tones of sweetest music, Murmured she one fond farewell. Till a flood of golden glory From my wrapt and eager sight. And the shadows brooding there- Forth in deep and earnest prayer, That my angel guest might hover Ever near, to bless and guide,While my bark was wildly tossing On Life's dark, tempestuous tide. Bradford, Vt. EMILY R. PAIGE. MARIE LOUISA. THE name of this Austrian princess, who at the early age of nineteen became the second wife of Napoleon Bonaparte, we often hear pronounced with a feeling of dislike and aversion. Our sympathies are ever with the loving, sorrowing, divorced Josephine, and justice has scarce been rendered to the fair princess who left the proud home of her father to become the wife of one whom she had ever been taught to regard as an enemy of her country, and of mankind. The good of Austria required it, and she made the sacrifice. Wedded to one whom she loved not, -to one who had grown old amid the din of war-whose brow was prematurely wrinkled by the care of conquered subjects, and scenes of bloodshed and destruction, no wonder her youthful heart shrank within itself, and she deemed herself an exile, rather than an empress. Speaking even the French language with difficulty, her simplicity and mistakes were not unnoticed, by her splendid court; she was far from being happy amid the gaieties of the gayest court upon earth. Surrounded by those who loved her not, but rather drew unfavorable comparisons between her and the brilliant Josephine, we should not be surprised that she sighed for her distant home; nor that she was unpopular with the gay and superficial Parisians. Yet she possessed resources of enjoyment independent of the giddy throng around her. She was passionately fond of music, painting and poetry. In these she found pleasure during the weary years of her residence at St. Cloud. She appreciated the beauty of the productions of her native bards, which she studied and repeated in her solitude. Some idea may be gained of the excellence of her character, from Napoleon's comparison of her with Josephine, when he was no longer cheered by the society of either. Speaking of his wives, when at St. Helena, he remarked, that he had been very much attached to them both-adding, "the first was a votary of art and the graces, the other was all innocence and simple nature; and each had a high degree of merit. The first in no moment of her life ever assumed a position, or attitude, that was not pleasing or captivating, it was impossible to take her by surprise, or make her feel the least inconvenience. She employed every resource of art to heighten natural attractions, but with such ingenuity as to render every trace of allurement imperceptible. The other on the contrary never suspected that any thing was to be gained by innocent artifice. The first was always somewhat short of the truth of nature-the other was altogether frank and open, and was a perfect stranger to subterfuge. The first never asked her husband for any thing, but was in debt to every one; the second freely asked whenever she wanted, which however, very seldom happened, and she never thought of receiving any thing without immediately paying for it. Both were very amiable and gentle in disposition." This speaks volumes in favor of the Austrian princess, the timid and artless Marie Louisa, and we see that she loses nothing that is truly valuable in her sex, even when compared with the fascinating Josephine. A few words in regard to her personal appear- ance. |