Now came the eldest child led by its nurse. there is the name of another, who, in years gone Alice flew to it; with transport and thanks to God, by, trod this spot with the merry shining face of folded it in her arms. This was her child, no mys-youth. Though not born to the higher walks of terious changeling; and after such long sufferings, life, or accustomed to the dizzy whirl of fashion's she was again happy. Rudolph's happiness bloom- vortex; yet, she possessed that which no embellished out anew. The sorrows of former days were, ment could enhance, or taste improve. She posto the newly re-united pair, an inexhaustible source sessed that native simplicity of manner, that must of sweet speech, joyful, happy, thankful reflection. have characterised our first mother before the forA few days after Alice's return, a fisherman bidden fruit imparted a knowledge of evil. There found Gertrude's body in the sea, and brought it to was also that perfect roundness of proportion, that her husband. Then it was told how surprised the defied the critical eye of the artist, or the fastidihusband and fisherman were; it had laid so long in ous taste of the roue. Her hair was of dark authe sea, and yet looked as fresh as if it were just burn, and eyes of the deepest blue. Her stature done. The widower buried her with great pomp; was of the usual height, supported by a foot and and all agreed he was delighted to obtain his free-ankle that no alteration could improve. In dispodom, and know there was no possibility of her coming sition, she was soft and forgiving. Malice and reback.

THE COTTAGE GIRL.

BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE ELOPEMENT.”

sentment were feelings that never defiled her heart. Of the most fervent temperament, it was impossible for her to love in part. On whatever object she placed her affections, it was with all her energy and soul, which approached nearly to a weakness, because, blinded to all other objects save the one that elicited her admiration. Such was Jane, the daughter of honest Kit. Often have I seen No season of the year is so suited to the con- her at church, when listening to the duties of chiltemplative mind as autumn. Then it is we see the dren to parents, turn her eyes from the pulpit to green fields putting on their sombre mantles, the her aged father; then, half lifting them to Heaven gay flowers losing their brilliant hues, and the dark as invoking a blessing upon his hoary head. How forest assuming its yellow tinge-sad mementos of different in those days was the spot I have just their coming fate. The very air seems to harmo- mentioned to what it is now. Then, you saw innize with the scene, producing on the serious mind, dustry in the fields, and neatness in the house. reflections upon man's transitory state, of which Just there, on that little mound, stood the house, a the season is so typical. It was at this season of single storied building, with two rooms on a floor, the year, not many months ago, I came to a spot and a chimney at each end. In front, was a small that brought back recollections which had become portico with a large jessamine on either side internearly extinct by the lapse of time. It carried me twining its tendrils with two multifloras. The back to the days of my childhood-that spring-time yard and garden were neatly enclosed. The latter of life, when the fields appear to be larger, the grass showed a taste and skill that indicated the cultivato grow greener, and the birds to sing sweeter. It tor to be one of no ordinary turn of mind; while was on an afternoon, just as the sun had sunk be- the flowers and shrubbery, bespoke in their arrangebind the distant woods, imparting a glowing tinge ment, the hand of a female. There stood in the cento all surrounding objects. There was nothing tre a bower, composed of the jessamine, multiflora remarkable about the spot to attract the attention and woodbine, that would have given a charm to of the passer-by. A few half decayed apple-trees; the gardens of the opulent. This was Jane's fahere and there a half recumbent post, and a slightly vorite spot; it was here she would retire at sumelevated mound told that there once stood a house. mer noonday, to study the books given by her father A little in the rear was a cluster of tall cedars, or minister. There is another old acquaintance, denoting a grave-yard. These relics of the living which I had nearly forgotten to mention, and that and dead, stood in what we call in Eastern Vir- is, a large elm, which stood at the south end of the ginia, “an old field.” Though it be not my privi-dwelling. All that now remains of that once princelege to record the feats of the dubbed knight, or ly tree, is its trunk and a few of its larger branches the feudal lord, or the luxurious ease of the pam- putting forth, when all other trees are in full foliage, pered nabob; yet, I feel it a pleasure to mention, a few sickly leaves. It was under this tree, Jane in my narrative, the name of one, who, though poor, and her father were accustomed, in summer, to possessed more than a Rothschild or a Girard take their noon meal, and where I have often stolen could purchase a good name. His name was when scarce old enough to wander so far, to parChristopher Mathews, familiarly called in his neigh- take of their repast, where I always found the borhood, honest Kit. He was an example of the coolest cream and nicest fruit, and listened to incomfort and happiness the poor might obtain, if structions that have followed me to manhood. Jane they would exercise industry and frugality. And was then about fifteen years old. She it was, who

"Yes, she was as good as she was fair,

None, none on earth above her;
As pure in thought as angels are;
To see her, was to love her."

first taught me a knowledge of the catechism and | bird's-nests. Jane was about thirteen years old, to feel the want of a parent. She had been entirely when her father settled his little farm. William educated by her father, her mother having died about this time was sent to a boarding-school. So during her early infancy. And such was his over- soon, however, as his vacation permitted his return weening anxiety to firmly engraft those pure prin- home, after his greetings were over, his first inciples of truth and religion, so beautifully taught quiries were after his old friend Christopher and in the scriptures, that he forgot in his zeal, while little Jane, as he continued to call her. A visit portraying the placid stream on which life's bark followed quickly after, where he found feelings conmight glide, that there were many a hidden and genial to his own-plain, unsophisticated and ardangerous rock beneath its surface. Or, if not dent. He preferred the frugal fare and open manners forgetting, feared that, while showing the conse- of honest Kit, together with the interesting company quences of evil, the beauties of good might be lost of little Jane, to the luxuries of his father's table, sight of. This was an error. While we are be- with his repulsive sternness and his still more holding the beauties of heaven, we should also see austere wife. It was about this time, under that the horrors of hell; for, such are our natures, that, large elm and that shady bower, that William Berwe rarely love virtue for its intrinsic value alone. tram passed, though unconscious of the change, The evil consequences of sin have their part, how- from that sincere admiration and esteem, so near ever faintly, in making us cleave unto that which akin to love that there is scarce a distinction, into is good. Jane had never mingled in society; she the all-absorbing influence of love itself. It was knew not the vice and folly that prevailed in the about the time Jane was ripening into womanhoodworld; she was disposed to judge all by her own the damask rose of her cheek imparting rather than standard. The books placed in her own hands, borrowing a freshness from the morn-that she were those to soothe and soften the heart, not to stood in the eyes of William Bertram all that was corrode and defile it. Perjury and lying were lovely and perfect. words she had heard, but had never seen them acted. She had read the story of Ananias and Sapphira, and believed that that special judgment of God was alone sufficient to deter all from similar wickedness. There was another, who also partook of the enjoyments of this pleasant retreat: one, whom the father looked upon with the feelings of a parent, and the care of a tutor. He played upon his knee in childhood, and listened to his coun- We will now make an interval of ten months sels in boyhood; he was ardent and affectionate in our narrative. It was in the month of July, in disposition; there was nothing mean or vicious about twilight, when a carriage was seen rapidly in his character; a sense of injury produced im- rolling along a firm and level road, skirted on either mediate contrition; with a mind of the imagina-side with forest-trees. In the distance, was seen a tive cast, he was disposed to look upon the world large and venerable brick building, situated on an with the brightest visions of happiness, and believ-eminence, reflecting the golden west in many bright ed the rural enjoyments so beautifully described in and beautiful colors from its arched windows. In Cowper's garden, far superior to ambition's daz- the carriage, sat two young men dressed in schozling paths, or fashion's capricious whims. He lastic uniforms. possessed what we rarely see united in the same individual-features strikingly handsome, and a mind decidedly intellectual. It was with this one, Jane had spent her childhood. Three years her senior, she often flew to him in their childish ram-father's." bles for protection when danger assailed her. Her "It is the residence, Albert, of an honest man, father had been steward for his father, James Ber- Christopher Mathews, a former steward of my tram, many years previous and subsequent to Jane's father's." birth, when he saved a sufficient sum to purchase a small farm in the neighborhood, where Jane spent many happy hours of her young days with William Bertram. William was the only child of his father, though he had married the second time. Of a roving disposition, he early sought the little lisp-solace and joy to his declining years." ing Jane as a companion in his wanderings; and, "And a source of uneasiness and distraction to at that early age, inspired her with a high admira- your rising ones, eh! do you ever dream of love in tion for his character, by his soft and gentle man- a cottage?"

Thus passed three years of his life. Though so young to feel the intoxicating effects of love; yet, he made rapid progress in his studies, and it seemed to impart stimulus to his energies.

"What small white dwelling is that I imperfectly see to the right, William? I presume you are acquainted with your neighbors, as you tell me that George the third looking house before us, is your

"He is quite comfortable, I should say, judging from external appearances."

"Yes, and happy too," rejoined William, as a slight blush passed over his face; "for he has a daughter who is a paragon of obedience; she is a

ners and the many daring feats he performed after To have looked in William's face at this time,

his confusion would have given the assent; but, just at the time, the carriage rolled up to the door. James Bertram was always proud of his son; his pride had been somewhat increased from the late honors William had gained at college. He appeared fonder of other children than his own, from the false idea that familiarity with children somewhat lessens the respect and obedience due to parents: forgetting the mere fact of being a parent does not always ensure fillial love.

and poor. The difference made by the world, now rose up before her in its most cruel aspect, and her young heart sighed as she beheld it.

William had no sooner taken his seat, than his eyes roamed through the dense congregation in search of his little Jane. He saw her in her accustomed seat, the same meek and placid Jane she had always been; yet, more lovely still. The bud of her cheek was full blown, her hair was a shade darker, and the penciled curve of her eyebrows William was proud like his father; yet, open and more fully developed. Their eyes met, and that ardent in manner, he never approached him ex- moment convinced them they were loved by each cept on matters of the world-There was always a other. It was a moment of sublime interest to restraint between the two. Perhaps, if the father both, as they drank in the deep inspirations of love had been more open and affectionate, the son would with intoxicating draughts. Their meeting after not have sought so early, congeniality of feeling in so long an absence more fully revealed their handthe heart of a female; that Jane was every way some exteriors, which before were half concealed by suited to fill up the vacuum, we have just shown. a mutual admiration of qualities. We will pass over Albert Morton, the college friend of our hero, their meeting after church. But, suffice it to say, resembled, yet was of a different nature; he lack-there was not the same open, unreserved greeting ed that depth and pathos of character, that gave a as in former days. There was a shyness which eharm to William's most trivial action. Both pre- each inwardly condemned in the other, and, at the sented a gay and light-hearted exterior. There same time, felt a slight displeasure with themselves. was something that appeared half concealed in William saw also his old friend Christopher; there Albert's manner. When he spoke it did not appear was no change in him, except his hair bespoke a to come from the heart; you could not receive him green old age; perhaps his shoulders were a little as a bosom friend; you listened to him half incredu- more rounded. There still remained the same lons, doubting if he himself believed what he spoke. warm, yet respectful manner that ever becomes Not so with William; you read his thoughts in one of his station. William promised to visit him his eyes, and heard them breathed from his heart. so soon as his young friend left, which would be in Two days had passed since their arrival; the third a few days. brought the Sabbath. William, in preparing for church, paid greater attention to his toilet than usual, for he then expected to meet Jane. It was with a slight degree of pride he viewed himself in the mirror; for, the last ten months had improved his person as well as mind. Many a neck-dress and ringlet were adjusted, as the handsome young men entered the church door. Jane remained the same, such was her surprise at seeing one whose "It was the daughter of Christopher Mathews, image had ever been before her. She did not ex-whose house we saw the other day on the road,” pect to see him so soon; it was like waking from replied William; "and, as to my gravity, you cana pleasant dream into its glorious reality. What not wonder at that, after so affecting a discourse. too were her thoughts at the time? They were scarce known to herself. Had she never before known, as indeed she had not, that love had placed his tarone on her heart and ruled with the sway of a despot, that moment would have spoken the reality. Her ear, long deaf to the soft whispers of her heart, now listened to its eloquent pleadings with rapture. Who can paint the feeling of the young and innocent heart, when love is first admitted into its sacred portals! But Jane scarce admitted the truth, ere she struggled to repel it. A startling thought rushed before her. She had thought of William Bertram, as William Bertram himself; she had not thought of him as the son of the proud Bertram of Woodland. She had always looked upon him as a I have ever seen." companion; his soft and courteous manners had "But do you not observe," replied William, never shown her the distinction between the rich" that you are looking at the results of wealth and

"You seem to have a plenty of pretty girls in your neighborhood," observed Albert Morton, next morning, while drawing on his boots," judging from the many I saw at church. By-the-by, what pretty, modest looking girl was that I saw you speak to just after service? I never saw you look as grave in my life, and that too as if you were afraid some one would see you."

What did you think of that part of the sermon where the minister spoke of riches as more frequently a curse, and poverty often a blessing ?"

William gave this turn to the conversation in order to divert his friend, with his quick-sighted suspicion, from seeing more than he could well have concealed.

"Poh! I did not believe a word of it; such notions will do only for the pulpit. Take away man's desire to accumulate, and you make him a mere passive being. It is the impulse more or less of all his actions. I speak in the aggregate. This world would be a wilderness in place of a garden; and, as to poverty, if it is a blessing, it is more than

ed by the stern glare of penury, to peruse useful books, or indulge instructive thoughts; and, in the even tenor of his life, he feels none of those harassing anxieties which often make wealth a burden, and the possessor a slave. Now Albert, suppose the poor would all follow honest Kit's example, would not poverty be rather a blessing than a curse?"

poverty only in this world? I will admit, take away | His little garden produces a plenty of vegetables, man's propensity to increase his store, and you and also sends forth a rich fragrance from its wellrob him of those energies which his very necessi-cultivated shrubbery; and, in the hot noonday and ties require; but, in the exercise of those energies, in the quiet twilight, he can there retire undisturbshould it not be with a due regard to other concerns? while toiling for the things of this life, should we not have an eye to the things of the next? It is unrestrained the exercise of these propensities, that makes it a crime. Poverty is more apt to be a blessing, because it takes away many of our carnal appetites. The mind of the rich man is so much absorbed in the things of the world, he scarce has the time, or rather takes the time, to think of William forgot, in the zeal of argument, that he his immortal existence; whereas, the innate pro- was drawing his friend's thoughts to one whom he pensity the mind has, unincumbered with the too did not wish to speak of. He now remembered it many cares of life, to turn to its immortal exis-was for that reason he commenced the argument. tence, also gives an advantage to the poor, and adds The breakfast bell, however, relieved his fears. a blessing to poverty." The three succeeding days passed without in"Then, I should infer, you would prefer poverty terest at Woodland. On the fourth, Albert Morton to wealth, which is indeed a novel idea in one of left for home, very much to William's relief; for your expectations," rejoined Albert; go, ask the he longed to pay a visit to Jane, which he did the man who has never known what plenty is, and next day. William's feelings were different to what never knew what comfort was; listen to his wife, they had been on any previous visit. They were while whipping her children, because they cry for those of fear and hope, for he knew his father's bread; hear her curse the day she was born; then pride and his European notions of alliance; he also see her seek temporary oblivion in the bottle; and, if knew Jane's implicit obedience to her father's will. they tell you that poverty is a blessing, and, in a It was certain, his father's objection would produce state of half starvation, pray to God on account of an insurmountable one with Christopher. his abundant mercies, then I will admit your argu

ment."

William's visit was in the afternoon of one of those rich and mellow evenings in the month of July, which give a charm to that season of the year. The sun was slowly sinking in his rosy bed, as William approached the little portico, where sat Jane, as was her custom, busily employed

“You draw a dark picture," replied William: moreover, you have misconceived me: I said that poverty was often a blessing; that it is sometimes a curse, I have no doubt; and that wealth, if properly used, is a blessing, is also certain. I with her needle. She was unconscious of the ap must recall you to what I have just said, that wealth proach of any one, until footsteps on the gravel is apt to produce too many worldly thoughts, and walk arrested her attention. The sight of one the cares of wealth to repel religious ones; that whom she was accustomed in days past, to meet poverty, in most cases, if rightly viewed, is a bless- at the gate, and bid him welcome with a joyous ing I have no doubt. Now, let me present you a heart, now produced sensations, though happy, of brighter picture of poverty, where it is felt with a far different nature. Her confused manner and meekness and borne with patience, and where it is heightened color bespoke the agitation of her heart. a blessing rather than a curse. I allude to our William thought her more lovely than he had ever neighbor Christopher Mathews, who, born of hum-seen her. Her handkerchief, on account of the ble parents, was early taught to look upon the early dews, was negligently thrown around her things of the world as temporal, and to look to the neck; her hair was smoothly parted on her forenext as a place where there will be no distinction head, extending a little below the temples; and her between the rich and poor. He soon discovered form was unencumbered with those embellishments, also that labor, properly employed, should be look- which, the fastidious taste of the ladies of the preed upon more as a pleasure than toil. He con- sent day has rendered so odious. sidered it as a zest to all other enjoyments, and as giving, at the same time, strength to the body and vigor to the mind. At an early age, he began the world for himself, and after many years of application to an honorable business, saved a sufficient sum to purchase a small farm in the neighborhood. The shades of evening were now fast darkening The fields then poor are now rich; though small, the distant landscapes, and the mockingbird was they yield large products. The house not large, is singing its vesper notes with harmonious melody, yet neat and comfortable; its white paint is in beauti-as the youthful lovers trod with elastic step, the ful contrast with the green sward that encircles it. neat and grassy walks. The moon rose in her full,

"I think, Jane," said William, the usual compli ments over, 'your multiflora has grown surpri singly, since I saw it last: how fares the tea-rose planted for you last summer? suppose we go and see it?"

just as the happy pair entered the bower.

It was have no doubt; also, your position in life will be a splendid one, when you have united her wealth with that you will inherit from me. Should you not comply, sir, with this my first and last request, I wish you to remember that you may never expect to receive from me the recognition of a parent; for, I would sooner see my fortune pass into the hands of strangers, than to a disobedient son."

an hour for the outpouring of the soul; it was an hour when the lover speaks, with rapture, feelings long cherished, though concealed; and it was an hour when the Christian seeks a sweet commune with his Creator. With the bright twilight of the west, and the moonlit east, you seem to stand between two vast fires, divided by a wide expanse; here and there, you saw a cloud passing in a slow and graceful motion, transforming itself into beautiful varieties. The wind, scarce rustled a leaf as it breathed its soft breath on the fragrant jessamine. And long and earnest was the conversation between William and Jane.

"And do you think you love me as you ought, William ?" said Jane, after they had been talking some time. "Do you not remember that there is a great difference between us? you are rich, and I am poor; you are high, and I am low born."

"Those thoughts, Jane, are unworthy of you. Think you, I mind the false ideas of the world? If wealth is the balance in which we are tried, then partial is the test, and virtue and worth would mourn their fate. Do you not see yon star? Behold how placidly and benignly it shines; and see how beautifully the moon shone just then, when that cloud passed slowly over it. They are types, Jane, of the purity of my love."

William was totally unprepared for such intelligence. He had never believed his father, with all his strict notions of children's obedience, would carry his ideas so far as to direct in so delicate a matter, and of such paramount importance to his happiness. He merely expressed the pleasure it had ever given him to obey his commands, and hoped never to incur his displeasure.

The father was satisfied; he did not expect an immediate acquiescence. He only wished to make known his wishes on that subject; the possibility of his son going counter to those wishes had never entered his mind.

So soon as William was to himself, and his astonishment had passed off, he commenced calmly to reflect upon the course he should pursue. The following week was the time his father had fixed on for him to visit Miss Fielding. His first resolve was to express to his father before that time, his repugnance to such proceedings. His next was to seek Jane and inform her of his father's wishes, and his determination not to comply with them. Early the next day, he made the visit, and found Jane busily engaged in the garden. A few moments, and they were seated under the bower where they conversed in the most earnest manner.

Our lovers now rose to leave that sweet abode, where they had just exchanged deep and unalterable vows. William returned home with his highly moral principles more firmly engrafted on his heart: for such is the effect of requited love on the virtuous. Those moral principles which we hitherto cherished for virtue's sake, now receive a seal on "And is it possible, Jane," said William, after a the beautiful envelope. William retired to rest short time, "that this is the amount of your lovethat night, satisfied with himself and all the world. you, for whom I am willing to sacrifice every thingNext morning, at breakfast, he thought his father to incur a father's displeasure and to forfeit immense appeared more affectionate than usual, who even pecuniary expectations-to start in the world with went so far as to jest with him on the subject of nothing save yourself, and to toil for a sustenance natrimony. His complacency, however, ended with the most laborious exertions? I cannot think with an invitation to the library. William attended it or believe it." with unpleasant presentiments.

"It is for these very reasons, William, that I "I have desired your company this morning, object. It is for your sake-you, who have been William," observed the father," for the purpose of raised in affluence and ease, and taught to look making known my wishes upon a subject of con- upon the world with the brightest prospects. You siderable interest to us both. You have now ar- are unqualified to descend from that high position rived to an age, at which we are apt to indulge our with humble Jane, not that I would not be yours thoughts upon matrimonial subjects to inconside- though you were the poorest in the world; nay, rate lengths. Fearing that you shall fall into some had I your wealth and you my poverty, that wealth of those rash amours, so incidental to the young, it and this heart should be given you with joy. There is my object to guard you against such follies, and is another reason, William, and not the least. Never to inform you of the family to which I wish you to would my father consent to our union, knowing your become allied. The father and myself have con- father's disapprobation. And sooner would I sacferred on the subject. It meets his entire appro- rifice every earthly blessing, than mar, for one hour, bation; nay, it is his highest wish. The young that more than parent. It were better for us to lady is the intelligent and wealthy Miss Fielding. abandon those hopes of happiness, which we so It is useless for me to inform you of her beauty fondly dreamed of a few evenings ago, for there is and accomplishments, as you have seen her. That now no hope of their realization."

you can love after becoming better acquainted, I

William deemed it best not to press Jane further