The Mother's Grave. pected, fearful shock. "Twas but for a moment— for the next, every cloud seemed convulsed-electric flashes shot through the heavens, and one continned peal of deep,-awful thunder followed.Night, to complete the picture of terror, closed over the scene, and such a night as fills the souls of aniinate existence with dread and dismay. Morning at length came: the elemental strife had ceased; and beauty and serenity succeeded the gloon, as if to chase away the last remaining terrors of the storm. But there were fears it could not alleviate; agitations it could not calm; sufferings it could not mitigate. It was in the month of September that the lovely Sophronia asked the permission of her father to visit the family cemetery. She had never seen the sacred spot since the day of her mother's funeral; when, with a swelling heart and swimming eye, she looked on that wasted, lifeless form of beauty for the last time. The deep-felt sorrow of that day, had settled and fixed upon her heart; though for the sake of a surviving parent, who, aged and infirm, leaned upon her for support, she concealed the bleeding wound, and often attempted to stifle the rising sigh with a song. The father's consent, which had been wisely withheld, on account of the The lovely Sophronia still knelt at the head of fatigue the walk would occasion to her delicate her mother's grave, and the father still bent over fraine, and the painful recollections such a scene her-his breast resting upon the marble stone. He would be likely to awaken in a mind so suscepti-had found her at her devotion, calm as a dying ble, had been all she had, for a long time, wanted saint, her hands clasped upon her heart. He linto enable her to repair again to this spot, to pour gered an instant to look upon a sight so dear to his forth her whole soul upon the grave of a mother-heart, and that instant fixed them both to the spot beloved, while living-and, deeply regretted, when immovably in death-and now both lie buried by dead. She asked this permission with a more than the side of the “mother's grave.” earthly glow flushing in her cheek, while her eyes, blue as the deep sky, looked as if speaking an angel's thoughts. Gently the father remonstrated, and fain would have persuaded her, still a little longer to postpone the already long-deferred day; for the air was sultry, and nature languished beneath the ineridian sun. "I can go," said she, a smile lingering upon her lips, "I can go along on the nossy bank of the stream; now the birds are singing, I love so well. It has been long," added she, since I have visited their haunts, and listened to their songs;-and, oh! my dear mother! I must go ;"—and a tear dropped from her eye. Parental love and affection melted into acquiescence, as the father looked upon his child, his daughter, the image of her he had lost forever;— and he would have risen to attend her; but whether she wished to weep her long suppressed grief in secret and alone, or deemed the jaunt too much for the declining health of the father, she assumed an air of sprightliness ill-suited to the feeling which weighed down her spirits, and bidding her father not to fear, tripped away over the autumnal grass and fallen leaves, with a grace and gaiety of motion which seemed not of earth. The eye of the doting parent followed her as she moved along the bank of the stream, and as often as she stooped to pluck a flower, or to relieve some suffering insect, a look of concern marked his countenance, as though he dreampt of danger. "I fear no good will come of it”—said he, turning away as she disappeared behind the thick branches which environed the place of the dead-" I feel that all may not go right." How was it possible that both had perished? That the full grown oak, and the rose, blossoming at its foot, had both been riven by the same stroke? Could neither the innocence and beauty of the daughter, nor the unyieding and untiring virtue of the father, save them from the ruthless elements? Had Heaven no pitying eye-no saving arm? Had youth and innocence no claim to protection? Was even the tomb of a saint in heaven no inviolate refuge? Was the presence of a father no shield, as he bent over the form of his beautiful daughter? "It was their time to die!"-and as the herald of death descended in the rapid lightning to sever the silken cords of life, pitying angels dropped on their golden harps, a silent, holy tear! Useful Woman. THE generality of woman are brought up to be what is called useful, in the first instance,-with as great display of this usefulness as can possible be played off'; and in the next to be-what shall I call them? Mencatchers. Their usefulness, generally speaking, consists in doing what is useless, often worse (and she might have added, in making a great fuss about it,) but it is all subservient to the grand object. In middle life, they must be exhibited as notables; that is spending three or four hours every day in what the English call dawdling and the Scotch, syeling; or, in other words, being a nuisance and hindrance to good servants, and vainly attempting to mend bad ones. If in easy or high life, an equal portion of time is thrown away in making themselves butterfly elegants, with still the same object in view. Their mothers, aunts, and Hours pass away, and Sophronia had not return- provident elderly female friends, all teach them the ed. The sun had already declined far in the west. art of catching; and having little to do that is worth A low moan came upon the air, and the sky sud- doing, and that can really occupy what was intenddenly darkened. A clap of thunder had already ed for a rational mind, they give a large portion of rolled away in the distance, and came upon his ear their attention to the study of man; but alas! not in like the knell of death-he started in alarm. A mo- Pope's sense. What they are chief adepts in, is ment hardly passed before he was seen with hasty the language of the eyes; not that language which steps following the path along the bank, and totter- may enable them to trace the wonders of the mind, ing under the infirmities of age, rushing to the res-but that which leads to a knowledge of what they cue of his lovely, only child. All is now still-not call the heart; that is, of the idle short lived vagaa leaf moves in the whole forest-all nature stands ries which occupy for a few days the fools with in a state of silent resignation-waiting some ex-whom they are acquainted, ORIGINAL. OSTUCAR, CALIPH OF BAGDAD. MAN is seldom contented with the present when appeared, and that joyful expression in his counte it is not full of hopes, which in future he expects to nance was now succeeded by melancholy and derealize. He contemplates with pleasure, the pros-jection. The day-dawn of his life enabled him to pect of increasing emolument, and grasps with discover, that happiness is surrounded with its miseavidity the delusive phantoms, which people his ries-to perceive the true value of the ore, in which imagination. He finds in every object around him, the diamond is embodied. encouragement to his visionary wanderings, and something to dispel the misgivings of his mind. But whether these hopes will finally be realized is the great problem he is anxious to solve. A knowledge of the events, which are to characterize his life, forms the maximum of his desires. He is ever eager to penetrate the hidden sources of nature, and when his mind soars abroad amid the beautiful and won He wondered at so great a change!—that the happiness of yesterday, should, to-day, be attended with awful forebobings of future disappointment. He loooked again, but appearances might have deceived him; but all his after prospects were concealed in the mist of uncertainty and doubt. Thinking that new habits and pursuits might recover his former blissful condition, he resolved to derful objects of creation, forever dazzled by the follow another course of life. He immediately prospect, it returns full of reflections on the myste- commenced the pursuits of learning, and endeavor. ry of the creator. Let him who cherishes such mis-ed to bring the hidden treasures from their depths,givings as these-who suffers with patience the ills he at once, thought he should excel the prophet of to-day, in expectation of greater felicity on the Mohamed, and establish a new order of things in morrow-learn the history of Ostucar, the Eastern his Empire. He ever mocked the stars in their Caliph. spheres, declaring they were but spots, placed there for the delusion of man. He plodded long in the rubbish of antiquity, and night and day, continued his weary toil. Yet fortune favored him not,while his emaciated form showed the extent of his perseverance, and the melancholy evidence of fruitless exertion. He turned from this enjoyment in disgust, leaving its honors to some one less influ enced by the freaks of fortune;-while he was willing to establish the truth of there words :-" an increase of knowledge, is an increase of trouble." The world now seemed to him a barren and dreary waste, presenting no encouragement to the industrious and persevering. Such was the pros pect he saw before him ;-yet he lost not the presentiment of his future prosperity, even amid such trouble and trial. It was the engrossing thought of his mind, to learn whether the residue of his life was to be passed in happiness or misery. Ostucar spent his early life in a prosperous and happy condition. His father, dwelling at Selencia, placed great hopes in his son, and even during his minority, predicted that he would receive the honors of the Caliphate. The young Selencian, passed his time in visiting the surrounding country, and culling the richest and most fragrant flowers. He found pleasure in visiting every new object he discovered. His happy countenance expressed all the delighted feelings of his heart, as he looked around, and his expressions of wonder and joy, showed the sweet emotions of his soul:-he was equally happy in whatever situation he was placed. Like the bee, he extracted the sweet from every flower, and left the bitter for some less fortunate adventurer. He looked upon life as one continued scene of joy, and happiness-when nature had left no barren deceit to retard his progress, or obstacle to disturb the "even tenor of his way." That inHe soon resolved to visit the different parts of his ternal voice of the soul, which transports to a dominion, thinking to find some one who might revere above our own, was continually whispering guide him to realms of peace and joy. He depart in his ear, while he was often led to wonder at the ed, consoling himself with happy hopes, and joymurmurs and complaints of the beings around him. ous expectations. He sought the beautiful retreats, And as the dimness of twilight, and the obscurity as he passed along the banks of the Tigris, Nineof night, tend to combine different objects, and un-veh and Ctesetiphon presented objects of admirafavorable to the sublime; so he looked abroad, and tion, and served to draw his mind from the conteni. saw only the grand and beautiful, which, he thought plation of those disappointments, which rendered could not fail to sweeten his existence. Such is his life miserable. He made a short sojourn at the blindness of youth. Autioch, and visited all its wonders and curiosities. Though he continued his journey a long time, yet it effected not that change he had expected-it brought not that bliss he had once enjoyed: and he became more and more desirous of knowing his future condition. All his subjects paid him the highest honors, and placed before him the treasures of their respective possessions. He reposed in olive groves, and drank from refreshing fountains; yet his countenance was no longer bright with joy, Delicious viands-fragrant flowers-the pleasant As Ostucar increased in age, and his mind became matured, all his ideal happiness was dispelled, and the true reality appeared before him. It was about this time, that he received the honors, and was crowned with the dignity of Caliph. Though he now entered upon a new course of life, his feelings and sentiments were still the same. Instead of meeting with those joys, his youth had promised, he began to feel a loss of his former pleasures: his former buoyaney of action no longer glen-the splendid minarets and cool shaded gardens of Damascus and Isfahan,-all were forgotten or unnoticed, in the seriousness of his reflection, and the burden of his thought. He returned to Bagdad with no happy feelings or joyous emotions. "Could I but know the future," he vainly thought to himself, "I should then be contented." During a warm and sultry day, as he was sitting alone, musing upon his sad condition, a deep sleep came over him. He dreamed that one of the Magi visited his palace, and directed him to go to a wide spreading palm tree in a near grove, and he would there find a ring deposited, which would guide him to a magician;-and he would by this means be able to learn his future destiny. When Ostucar awoke, he was for a long time in doubt whether to give credence to the words of the magician or not; but so great was the benefit to result from following his directions, that he could not refrain from seeking the ring. His mind was now wholly absorbed in the thought of knowing the future, and he was scarcely able to wait a proper opportunity to effect his intended purpose. He departed one evening in disguise, and after a long search, he found the ring. On it was written the name of a magician, who had long had the reputation of being skilled in knowledge; but he was ever careful to conceal it from the world. Ostucar found the cave, to which he was directed, and presented the ring, that betokened his errand. The magician questioned him relative to his condition, and the happiness he expected to enjoy. "Ostucar," said he, "you have received the highest honors from your people, and they love you. Your eager desire for the knowledge you seek, ought never to have entered your breast. You are about to learn your fate, whether a life of joy or misery is to be your lot. You are about to learn that from the gods, which mortal man should never possess. You have a ring which compels me to give you this knowledge, if you desire it; then after learning your fate, you must abide by it; there will thenceforward be no change-no repentance will then be sincere enough to affect the wilful god. Now do you wish to know the future?" I do," replied Ostucar. "The die is cast," said the magician. A stone was immediately removed from a part of the cave, under which was concealed the object of his desires. ORIGINAL. Musings. in one of our New England states-may be seen in 'Tis sweet to pause in such a scene as this, And waves its verdant leaflets in the gale, Yet in their childish hearts what feelings burned? Some stood in fancy on the embattled plain, Beauty. J. W. A scene of sorrow and suffering was the condiLET me see a female, possessing the beauty of a tion, which the fates had allotted to Ostucar. He meek and modest deportment-of an eye that besaw before him all the trials and troubles of mortal speaks intelligence and purity within-of the lips life. Lachesis was turning the wheel of Fortune, that speak no guile:-let me see in her, a kind and and Atropos stood ready to cut the brittle thread. benevolent disposition-a heart that can sympathize After contemplating this scene, and reflecting with distress-and I will never ask for the beauty upon the ills he was to suffer, Ostucar returned to that swells in "ruby lips," or "flowing tresses," his palace, melancholy and dejected. Even Hope or "snowy hands," or the forty other et ceteras, had now escaped from the Pandorean box; while every object around seemed impregnated with some loathsome substance, designed to embitter his existence. Each one approached him, appeared to have concealed beneath his robe, the fatal dagger, which was to terminate his life. upon which our poets have harped for so many ages. These fade when touched by the hand of Time, but those ever-during qualities of the heart shall outlive the reign of Time, and grow brighter and fresher as the ages of Eternity calls away. The happiness of every man depends more upon the state of his own mind, than upon any one external circumstance; nay, more than upon all external things put together. Schinderhannes. straw of his bed, threw it to his neighbor above, who made the end fast, and by this means he ascended with ease to the upper chamber. Here he broke through the wall into the kitchen, forced away the defences of one of the windows, and leaped into the ditch of the town, dislocating his foot in the descent. In this state it took him three days and nights to crawl to the house of a friend, lying crouched in the forest like a wild beast by day, and resumed his painful journey at night. Having rejoined his band, he soon made it stronger than ever by the addition of several important membersamong others, of Karl Benzel, a young man of THIS remarkable person was born at Nastætten, of parents in the lowest grade of society, in the year 1779. A public whipping, which he received for some juvenile delinquency, determined his course of life. His young heart was filled with skame and bitterness; and from that moment he ught to ally himself only with those who set at defiance the laws which had degraded him forever. Having made himself worthy of such fellowship, by committing a daring robbery, and escaping from prison after his apprehension, he sought out Fink, surnamed Red Head, who received him with open arms, and introduced him successively to Mose-family and education. bach, Seibert Iltis Jacob, and Zughetta, at that time At this time he was so well known, that mothers the most celebrated bandits of the district. The terrified their children with the name of the young young desperado soon showed that it was his mis- and handsome Schinderhannes. In his own imsion to lead, rather than follow, and in a very little mediate neighborhood, however, he was beloved time he became the Captain of the band. His cap-by the peasantry, who would have died rather than ture thus became a matter of consequence; and he have betrayed him; and one of the most beautiful was so closely watched, that at length the authorities succeeded in apprehending him in the mill of Weiden. While they were conveying him to Oberstein, he contrived to get out upon the roof of a prison where they halted for the night, and attemped to descend by a rope he had manufactured of the straw of his bed. Midway, however, the rope broke, and reaching the ground with more noise than he contemplated, he was re-taken. Secured, at length, in the strong prison of Saarbruck, every body believed that the career of the young chief was ended; when in three days, the country was thrown into consternation by a circular announcing his escape. When Schinderhannes rejoined his comrades, he found them under the command of Peter the Black. This person was a tall guant man, with a forest of black hair, and a thick and matted beard hanging upon his breast. His complexion was sallow, his voice resembled the croak of a raven, both in sound and augury. When sober, he was plunged in a dull and easy apathy, in which he would do whatever he was bid, to the cutting of a throat, or the burning of a church; when drunk, he was a compound of the wolf and tiger. In the immediate state, however, when his mind was fully awake without being over excited, and when he could murder on principle, rather than from passion, or mere stupid instinct, he was the equal of any bandit chief unbung. He did not long, however, remain a bar to the young robber's ambition. Being taken and plunged into a subterranean dungeon, where no brandy was to be had, he conceived such a disgust to the French that on affecting his escape he left the place, and did not return for some years. Schinderhannes himself was soon after captured, and lodged in the same dungeon at Simmerm. This was merely a deep vaulted hole twenty feet under the foundation of a prison tower on the ramparts, with only a single small opening at the top, through which the captive was let down by means of a rope. The opening of course could not be shut without stifling the prisoner, but at any rate, there seemed to be no possibility of climbing to it, placed as it was, in the middle of the lofty roof; while the chamber into which it led was itself a strong dungeon tenanted by another malefactor. The young chief, however, was nothing daunted. He twisted a rope of the girls in Germany ran off from her parents to join his fortunes in the forest, and accompanied him afterwards in some of his most daring expeditions dressed in boy's clothes. Gay, brave, gallant, generous and humane, there was a high romance about his character which attracted even those who most abhored his crimes. He was fond of music, and even of poetry; and to this day there is a song sung on the banks of the Rhine which he composed to his mistress. He was addicted to pleasure and a worshipper of women; but the charms of Julia Blasius, the young girl alluded to above, at length concentrated his wandering desires, and converted him from a general lover into an affectionate and devoted husband. Hitherto, however, he was ignorant of the grandeur and dignity, with which the character of an outlaw was invested in Belgium; and when in homage to his fame, Picard invited him to join an expedition to the banks of the Main, Schinderhannes expected to see only a wandering chief like himself, hunting the desert hills and ruined castles, roaming on foot from forest to forest and sweeping the highways when opportunity offered. What, then, was his amazement, when he was received by the new bandit at the head of a troop of fifty horse, all regularly armed and accoutred, and paid like soldiers, besides their share of the bounty! Nor were the Belgians less surprised by the appearance of the band of the far famed Schinderhannes, which they found to consist of a handful of foot travellers, each armed and dressed at his fancy, or according to his means, and led on by a stripling, whose handsome person and engaging manners savored more of the grove than of the camp. This was the first time he had ever come in contact with other bands or branches composing the vast association to which he belonged; and when he returned to his woods, at the end of his campaign, he set himself seriously to the task of introducing order and etiquette into his own system. Unlike the other bandits he pursued the Jews with special and unrelenting hostility; and became at length so dreaded by the whole Israelitish race settled in the countries of the Rhine, that they petitioned to be allowed to compromise with him, by paying a duty resembling the Black Mail of the Scottish highlands. One of those tributaries, Isaac Herz, an extensive merchant of Soberheim, was notwithstanding so the court, was sentenced first, and Schinderbannes embraced her with tears of joy when he heard that her punishment was limited to two years confinement. His father received twenty-two years of fetters; and he himself, with nineteen of his band, were doomed to the guillotine. The execution took place on the 21st of November, 1803, when twenty heads were cut off in twenty-six minutes. Female Temper. It is particularly necessary for girls to acquire command of their temper, because much of the effect of their powers of reasoning and of their wit, when they grow up, depend upon the gentleness and good humor with which they conduct themselves. A woman who would attempt to thunder with her tongue, would not find her eloquence increase her domestic happiness. We do not wish that women should implicitly yield their better judgment to their fathers and husbands, but let them support the cause of reason with all the graces of female gentleness. and she has not masculine strength and courage to enforce any other kind of respect. These circumstances should be considered by those who advise that no difference should be made in the education of the two sexes. much alarmed for his life, that he did not dare to, was heard, in the profound silence of the moment, stir out of doors without an escort of gend'armes; but the sobs of women. Julia, by the humanity of and this coming to the ears of Schinderhannes, the Jew was summoned to appear before him to an swer for the misdemeanor. At the instant appointed, the cadaverous face of Isaac was seen at the robber's gate, where a sentry armed at all points stood on guard. Being admitted, he ascended the stairs, and found on the landing place another sentry, who on learning his business, announced his name.. In a few minutes the door opened, and the Jew, crouched almost to the ground, tottered into the room more dead than alive. Schinderhannes. surrounded by his officers standing under arms, was seated, with a telescope before him, by the side of his beautiful Julia; both were magnificently dressed. It has been reported to us," said the captain in a severe tone, "that thou goest abroad under an escort of gend'armes; why is this ?" The Jew gasped, but not a syllable would come, "Dost thou not know," continued Schinderhannes more mildly, "that if I speak but the word, thou wouldst be shot, wert thou in the midst of a whole troop ?" Isaac bent himself to the earth in token of acquiescence, but his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth. He paid twenty-six francs for the audi- A man, in a furious passion, is terrible to his eneence, and abandoned his unlawful and useless pre-mies; but a woman, in a passion, is disgusting to cautions. It is no part of our present task to touch her friends; she loses all that respect due to her sex, upon the more remarkable exploits of this remarkable personage; and we therefore hurry him to the end of his career. Being captured on the German side of the river, under circumstances involving a good deal of romantic mystery, he was conveyed to Frankfort, and thence to Mainz, for trial by the The happiness and influence of woman, both as French authorities. In this last journey, among his wives and mothers, and indeed, in every relation, companions and fellow prisoners, were his beautiful so much depends on the temper, that it ought to be and faithful Julia, and the famous robber Fetzer. most carefully cultivated. We should not suffer On the way a wheel broke, and the carriage stop-girls to imagine that they can balance ill humor by ped. "Comrade," remarked Fetzer, "that is like the some good quality or accomplishment; because, in wheel of our life, which is soon to stop forever ?" fact, there is none which can supply the want of At Mainz they found a great part of the band wait- terderness in the female sex. ing for trial; and when the important day came, headed as usual by their chief, escorted by numerous brigades of troops, and surrounded by half the people of the country, the desperate men marched slowly through the streets to the ancient electoral palace. On entering the vast and magnificent saloon of the academy, whose marble walls had heretofore echoed to the strains of music, Schinderhannes stepped lightly to his seat, and looked round upon the thick concourse of the fair, the noble, the learned and the brave who had come there for the purpose of gazing upon the redoubted outlaw. He seemed to feel a strange pride in being the hero of the scene. Perhaps his thoughts reverted to his despised childhood-his bitter and most degrading stripes-and, even on the brink of destruction, his eyes lightened, and the pulses of his life throbbed at the contrast. As the trial went on, he was seen frequently to play with his young infant, and to whisper to his wife, and press her hands. The evidence against him was overpowering, and the interest of the audience rose to a painful pitch. As a mother, we find her the affectionate, the arWhen the moment of Judgment drew near, his dent instructress of the children she has tended fears for Julia shook him like an ague. He frequent- from their infancy; training them up to thought and ly cried out, clasping his hands, "She is innocent! virtue, to meditation and benevolence, addressing The poor young girl is innocent! It was I who them as rational beings, and preparing them to be seduced her!" Every eye was wet and nothing, men and women in their turn, Woman. Ir is in the middle rank of life that we behold woman in all her glory: not a doll to carry silk and jewels, a puppet to be dangled by coxcomb children, an idol for profane adoration; reverenced to-day, discarded to-morrow; always jostled out of the true place which nature and society would assign her, by sensuality or contempt; admired but not respected; desired but not esteemed; ruled by fashion not affection; imparted her weakness, not her constancy, to the sex she should exalt; the source and mirror of vanity. We see her as a wife, partaking the cares and cheering the anxiety of the husband; dividing his labors by domestic diligence, spreading cheerfulness around her; for his sake, sharing the refine ments of the world without being vain of them; placing all her pride, all her joy, all her happiness, in the merited approbation of the man she honors and loves. |