& SATURDAY, JULY 31, 1813. MARIA ARNOLD. Nota [VOL. I. ly performing, the carriage was ordered to the church, and Henry rushed in, in the manner above mentioned. health is still very bad, and we are apprehensive he will fall a sacrifice to the unfeeling tyranny of a father, whose remorse is now as excessive as it is fruitless. (Concluded from page 162.) YOU will naturally conceive our The Staffords having continued a consternation, sir, during this dreadful couple of days at the parsonage, returnscene, and how much it would shocked to H-t-n-hall. Young Stafford's the feelings of the worthy curate; who, after the first tumult of surprise had ceased, conducted himself with all that dignity and mildness of manner so peculiarly engaging in his character. Old Stafford and his son, who was with dif- I shall stay here a few months with my ficulty persuaded to quit the church, worthy friend, until time hath in some were now led to the parsonage. Their degree mitigated the pressure of his appearance had been occasioned by a misfortune. I find also a melancholy letter written by Miss Stafford to her pleasure in visiting the many scenes in brother, mentioning the situation of this neighbourhood, whose romantic Maria, her miscarriage, indisposition, and sequestered beauty gave employand the treatment she had met with; and, ment to the pencil and taste of Maria, irritated to the highest degree, he im- and I am now finishing this hasty sketch mediately left the continent, and arriv-on the banks of the rapid Sw-le, and ed at his father's house early on the same day Maria was buried. Her death was unknown at H-t-n-hall and Henry insisted upon his father's accompanying him immediately to the curate's, as his presence would be ne-and wild his gloomy spirit shrieks. cessary, for the satisfaction of both parties. Mr. Stafford was much averse to the measure; but as his son's health had been lately upon the decline, and his present agitated state of mind con-yielding to the pensive bias of my tributed greatly to increase his com- mind, enjoy the torrent and the howlplaint, he reluctantly complied with his ing storm. request, still hoping to avoid so unprofitable a connection. Upon their arrival at Ruysd-le, they drove to the parsonage and being there informed of the death of Maria, and that the burial service was then actual under the shelter of an oak, whose antique branches throw a broad and ample gloom athwart his surface: turbulent he pours along beneath yon scowling precipice; he rises from his bed, Here, sir, can I indulge the fervour of my imagination; here can I call up the fleeting forms of fancy; I can here hold converse with Maria; and, THE INSENSIBLE FAIR. In-lived the beautiful Elvira ;, the charms of her person were not more surprising than was her indifference to all men; yet she cultivated a very intimate friendship with the charming || rival; and is convinced that the thing Amanda. Notwithstanding Elvira's in- which broke off their friendship was sensibility, she was not without lovers, love. Amanda and the captain, at particularly a merchant declared his pas-length, are married; Elvira raves, and sion, but was repulsed with the utmost scorn. He renewed his addresses: she laughed at him, rated him, and exposed every thing he said in all companies, and even forgot the decency of good manners; till, at length, he quitted the city, to avoid the torment he suffered. A young gentleman of family, and heir to a great estate, just arrived from abroad, succeeded in the train of her admirers; he had every thing to recommend him, but nothing could make an impression on the cold Elvira; her slight he repaid with vows of constancy, and her contempt with a silent sigh, and the most affectionate look. The effects of her continued disregard was a deep despair, which brought on him a complication of disorders, of which he died; and she, by her seeming triumph, shewed that she was as insensible of pity, as she was of love. accuses her friend with ingratitude in robbing her of her lover; her body grows weak, her mind is disturbed, and she now finds that she is not insensible of love, but that it is too late. She lies in such misery, that they who thought nothing could sufficiently revenge her pride and insensibility, began to think her punishment now too severe. RUDIMENTS OF TASTE, and a POLITE FEMALE EDUCATION. Letter 3, Diligence, &c. continued. Many a bright and shining talent lies hid in a napkin, for want of activi ty to unfold it; nor do we unfrequently meet with persons struggling with distresses, which require only their own exertions to remove. Indolence takes hold of the disposition much oftener than is acknowledged; it is possible to be wholly under its dominion, and yet suspect nothing of it; and what is yet And old rich merchant proposed him- more strange, to believe one's self to be self as a husband, thinking that she the most diligent person in the world, would submit to the power of gold, at the very time. You have seen numthough she would not to love; but he bers of bustling people, who are always met with the same success as his pre-in a hurry, and so perplexed do they decessors; however he had still leave appear with business, as never to be to continue a formal visit, and one day, able to enjoy a friend or themselves. took along with him his son, a young It would seem hard to accuse them of gentleman who had a commission in indolence, and yet they are of all peothe army, who then said but little in ple most commonly under its power: her company; from which she formed for habitual diligence so comfortably a judgment of his WIT, yet wished he arranges the affairs of life, that no one is She saw him afterwards at found to intrude on another.. Consid some in public stations, manage a multiplicity of the most important concerns; -to contemplate them, one would almost conclude, nothing too extensive for the compass of the human mind; had more. the assembly, and heard him talk, ander the surprising dispatch with which with wit too, which gave her the more uneasiness, as the conversation did not turn on herself. At the next assembly her friend Amanda was with her, and the captain came up to them; and then she saw that he had gallantry, but it-diligence is the charm which effects was for Amanda only. This Elvira could not bear; she was no longer indifferent-she was jealous. it all, for, great are the achievements which resolution and application can effect-in nothing is their power more From that time she grew reserved to conspicuous, than in the cultivation of her friend, and now looks on her as all the mind; to reflect on the progress of Gentleman. Holloa house! G. I G. I. G. Yes sir, please your Honour, when my wife's from home. Have you a bill of fare? Yes Sir, the fair of Mullingar and Ballin asque are the next week. I see-How are your beds ? the human understanding-to compare || Dialogue between an English gentleman, and an Irish inkeeper. the refinements of philosophy with a state of savage nature-a Newton, with an Indian of the woods, we should almost conclude some supernatural power must have given the former so infinite a superiority in the scale of beings. Without diligence and application it could never have been attained, for though much be owing to accidental advantages, such as being born in an enlightened country afford, yet no inconsiderable portion of diligence is required to render these advantages person-I. ally effectual. It is this my dear girls, that makes them yours, and without it, the soul will remain as uninformed, as if destined to a land where science never darts a cheering beam. LOVE. G. I. G. G. I. Very well, indeed; wine is the milk of old age, and happy is the man who has his dairy full of it. Have you any mountain ? Yes sit, this country is full of mountains. Yes sir, all kinds, from Irish white wine, Have you any porter? Yes sir, that is an excellent porter; he'll go any where. No, I mean porter to drink. G. I. G. I. Oh, sir, he'd drink the ocean, never fear him for that. "I must confess," said a fashionable lady," that though I live in the highest degree of splendor, I often look down, and envy the situation of the lowest of my servants, and fancy her more happy. She earns her bread by her industry, and when her daily work is done, can sit down with a conscience void of remorse, as it is clear from vice. Oh! what pleasure must such a mind enjoy! Many a cottage have I looked on with a wishful eye, and have thought the people within, though poor, and perhaps without a chair to sit on, much more happy and contented than I, who passed it in my coach and four and attended with a suit of servants. 1. G. I. G. I. Have you any fish! They call myself an odd fish. No sir, I am not a lawyer. Have you any sole? Pshaw, have you any plaice? No sir, but I was offered one if I would vote for Mr. I mean a species of fish. As good as ever swam upon dry land. They are tame enough now, for they have I must see myself. And welcome, sir, will fetch you a looking glass. The following is ascribed to the honourable Charles J. Fox, the celebrated British statesman.-They breathe much morality and ingenuity. THE MANSION OF REST. I TAK'D to my flattering heart, And I chid its wild wandering ways; I charg'd it from tolly to par, And to husband the rest of its days; I bade it no longer admire The meteors that fancy had drest: And seek for a Mansion of Rest. And I'll show you the place and the way : And you'd to be always her guest; "Never more," I exclaim'd, "will I roam, "In search of the Mansion of Rest." But the sweetest of moments will fly; Not long was my fancy beguil'd, For too soon I confess'd with a sigh, That the syren deceiv'd, while she smil'd." Deep, deep, did she stab the repose Of my trusting and inocent breast, nd the door of each avenue close, That led to the Mansion of Rest. Then friendship entic'd me to stray, Thro' the long magic wiles of romance, But I found that be meant to betray, And shrunk from the sorcerer's glance; For experience has taught me to know, That the soul which reclin'd on his breast, Might ross on the billows of woe, And ne'er find the Mansion of Rest, Pleasure's path I determined try, But prudence I met in the way, Conviction flash'd light from her eye, And appear'd to lumine my day; She cry'd as she show'd me a grave, With nettles and wild flowers drest, O'er which the dark cypress did wave"Behold there, the Mansion of Rest." She spoke and half vanish'd in air, For she saw mild religion appear, With a smile that would banish Despair, And dry up the penitent tear; Doubts and fears from my bosom were driv en, As pressing the cross to her breast, And pointing serenely to heaven, She show'd the true Mansion of Rest. THE RURAL RETREAT. Far from the rich, the gay and vain, I fly to seek the rural train ; From splendid domes and lofty spires, The haunts of fear and low desires, To the plain roof and humble cell, His favour'd seat, LOVE's genius reigns- SENSIBILITY. Parent of extacy and woe, Whose sparkling eyes impearl'd with tears No more this aching heart molest, Which to your votaries you give ; TO MY BED. How great thy different powers appear, Desponding grief to-morrow. Yet know-'tis not thy downy throne, 'Tis not thy soft embrace alone, The troubled mind composes, For whate'er dress thy shape adorns, 'Tis VICE that makes the bed of thorns, And VIRIUE that of roses. I heard last week, friend Ned, that thou wast dead. I'm very glad to hear it too cries Ned. PHILADELPHIA-Published weekly, Price twelve and an half cents per month, payable quarterly in advance, by THOMAS G. CONDIE, jun. No. 22, Carter's Alley, opposite Mr. Girard's Bank-Where a LETTER Box is placed for literary communications. Subscriptions are also received at the Merchants Coffee house, Mr. R. Desilver's BookStore, No. 294, Market-street, and at Mr. J. Bioren's Book-store, No. 88, Chesnut-street. le, SATURDAY, AUGUST 7, 1813. THE MAD GIRL. [Vol. I. "Ah!" said she, "I see very well you don't know all. He alone is somebody and when he goes away, he does not like you, listen to all he hears he only hears her who is above. Formerly it was I now it is her :-But it will not last.-Oh! no, no, it will not last." At these words she took a medallion from her bosom, and seemed to exam IT was two o'clock in the morning, he almost exhausted lamp in the court ard gave but a glimmering light, and I vas retiring to my apartment, when I hought I heard a noise at the foot of he stair-case. I called twice, "Who's here? What are you about there," and as answered by a soft and touching oice, "It is I don't you see that Iine it with much attention. A moment m waiting for him ?" As I was not after we heard a door open; and a serhe person expected, I was walking vant holding a light at the top of the way; when the same voice called to ballustrade enabled me to distinguish a "Pray come here; but don't young man, who tripped lightly down ake a noise." I approached, and near stairs. As he passed, his hapless vice last step, behind the pillar, perceiv-tim was seized with an universal trem1 a young woman dressed in white, bling; and scarcely had he disappearith a black sash, and with her haired, when the rest of her strength forlling in disorder on her shoulders! sook her, and she fell on the lower step, I never did you harm," she said; behind the pillar that concealed us. I pray do not hurt me.-I have touch- was going to call for assistance, but the I nothing; I am here in a corner, fear of exposing her prevented me; here I cannot be seen-this injures I took the poor creature senseless in my body-but don't say any thing arms. The shutting of the door above >out it: don't mention it to him.- was then heard-she started at the e'll come down presently-I shall see noise, and seemed to revive a little. I m; and then I'll go away." My held her hands in one of mine, and rprise increased at every word; and with the other supported her head. She tried, in vain, to recollect this unfor- tried to speak; but the sounds she ennate creature; her voice was perfect- deavoured to utter were stifled by her unknown to me, as well as whatever grief. We remained some time in a could discover of her person. She silence, which I did not dare to interntinued to speak; but her ideas be- rupt; when, at last, having entirely reme so confused, that I could discov- covered, she said to me, in a soft and nothing but the disorder of her head, faultering voice-"Ah! I see very d the distress of her heart. I inter- well I ought to have warned you :-The pted her, and endeavoured to bring accident that has just happened to me, ck her attention to our situation. "If must have made you uneasy, for you mebody else," said I, "had seen you are good and kind: you must have :fore I did at the foot of the stair-case?" been afraid, and I am not surprised at |