ven pity your poor child, and save her om despair!"The following morning she arose but unrefreshed, she walked as one whose soul was fled, but whose body was doomed to wander in unconsciousness; it yet was but twilight, and the spear and the lance trembled in the cold air; soon the guards paraded, on their posts in a quicker step, and at length all seemed bustle and confusion. She had walked to the battlements, and seated like the genius of suspense, her hair blew about in the air, she started at the sound of the bugle; the chain of the drawbridge rattles, the portcullis rises, and a host of armed men pour out from the keep; they form a procession, Child Edmund is preceded by a page, who bears his favours of azure blue; her lover breatres a sigh to heaven; a train accompanies him and Lord Hildebrand, who are followed by the heralds at arms. This appearance of knightly combat freezes her soul; "He is going," she cries "to sacrifice himself! and for me?" she uttered a scream and fell unheeded on the terrace 川 she perceives the stiffened corpse of FROM A MOTHER, E. ON THE LOSS OF A LOVELY INFANT GIRL, on the 24th February, 1827, aged 9 Months, TO THE FATHER, fated maid thy sufferings are indeed aente; if this be the punishment of ON HIS RETURN FROM A DISTANT VOYAGE. - only supposed guilt, what must that be of conscious depravity? They had met it is true clandestinely; but angels might have been present at the interview they me but to breathe vows of constancy, and to indulge in mutual sorrows; dearer to them than all the jocund hours of mirth. On returning to a sense of feeling, she crawled to her chamber, revived by the blood which flowed from a wound she had met with in falling; the cut she received in her temple was healed by a domestic; but the wound of her heart rejected all mortal medicine, and her attendants, apprehensive for her reason, were fain to let her pursue her inelinations. To paint her agonies of suspense during this encounter is impossible, and the sound of music proclaims, the dreadful truth must soon beknown; they play a mournful theme, and she rushes forward to behold the cause. They are to be seen but ever and anon in the distance; now lost among the hills, and now again emerging nearer to the right: on a carriage Ah! how my dear, can I transcribe My care, and fond maternal arms Could not our darling save, To slumber in the grave! And though the arrow wing'd by fate Let us this hour submissive bow Her innocent and lively eye Can on us look no more, The God whose all creating power Infused the breath of life, Exempt from all our woe and care, Secure from ev'ry Storm; 1 J. B. OH! Mary, how oft haye 1 mourned o'er thy fate Though many a day has darken'd the date, High beats the heart of the Scot for relief On the proud shrine of Elizabeth's glory, Till History-dead-shall leave the sad story While charity breathes mankind will deplore And England, the dull callous witness, shall bear An indelible stain for each hallow'd tear The unhappy fate of Mary, BIRTHS IN JUNE. At Helston, Mrs. W. Symonds of a son At Truro, Mrs. J. R. Ronse of a daughter MARRIAGES IN JUNE. At Penzance, Mr J. Symonds to Miss Pascoe MARRIAGES IN JULY. At St. Gluvias, Mr. J. Palmer to Mrs. Mary At St. Austle, Mr. Swafield to Miss Walker At St. Allen, Mr. R. Lanyon aged 80 to Mrs. DEATHS IN JUNE. At St. Austle, Mr. J. Paul aged 80 Mr. J Willoughby aged 45 DEATHS IN JULY. At Tregony, Lieutenant J. Commoe aged 51 At Truro, Mr. G. Davey aged 91 At St. Austle, Mrs. J. Hawken aged 39 At Penzance, J. Holt Esqr. aged 19 At Penzance, Mrs. Reed aged 90 At Street-an-Nowar, near Penzance, Mr. T. Printed and Published by J. PHILP Falmouth, and sold by most Booksellers in the County. The Selector. "WE CULL THE CHOICEST. No. 21.J SEPTEMBER, 1827. SKETCHES OF CORNWALL. To the Editor of the Selector. SIR, In our last little Sketch we rested the town of St. Ives, and can proceed on the Sea coast upwards to ST. AGNES. now [Price 3d the smelting houses, where the operations of roasting, smelting, and rolling metal are carried on to as great a perfection as in any part of the kingdom; in the parish of Phillack is the Hayle at Copper-house and Angallack or Angarrack Tin smelting-house, this being the first of the kind that was established. The house and grounds of W. Praed Esqr. called Trevethoe, on the west of the harbour are truly beautiful, and the Pine-aster Fir which that true Cornish Gentleman so useful to his native County, first introduced is very fine and flourishing: the view of this pleasant place shews a strong contrast with the land around so covered with the sand. On proceeding inland, are Camborne and Redruth, famous for their numerous and rich mines, which were mentioned in the Selector, No. 14. Near the former town is the antique mansion and extensive plantations of Clowance, the chief seat of Sir John St. Aubyn, Bart., and adjoining are the fine house and grounds of E. W. Wynne Pendarves, Esq., one of the able representatives in Parliament for tais County, and approaching the latter town is Tehidy Park, the mansion and beautiful domain of Lord De Dunstanville, these worthy descendants of a long line of ancestors are in themselves well accounted amongst the riches of Cornwall;-a description of their interesting seats require too large a space for our present sketch to do them justice, therefore must proceed along the coast, to a curious cove or opening of the cliffs, called PORT-REATH OF It may be well first to observe that from St. Ives with some few interruptions there extends all along the shore by St. Agnes almost to Padstow, a range of SAND BANKS, in many places a mile wide and elevated 150 to 200 feet above the level of the Sea; this range is now generally cover'd with a thin turf affording some pasturage for sheep. These Banks consist in the chief mass of minute particles of shells and are certainly not of ancient formation, for in digging deeply a vegetable mould appears and regular enclosures may be discovered with remains of houses. In listening to Tradition, it tells us that somewhere in the 16th century the dense clouds of sand came over this cultivated land and tenements of Man, shewing on how uncertain a tenure our terrestrial possessions rest! this oral record is likely to be correct by one of the Parishes being set down in the Liber Valorum of Henry viii. much above the value of all the adjoining. It was mentioned in our last that Hayle or Heyl situate on the river of that name and above St. Ives enjoys a great trade in Iron, Tin, Copper and Welsh coal, there being in the vicinity K VOL. 2 Bassett's Cove, in the parish of Illogan, about two miles from Redruth, where again you behold the wildness of the rocky coast, the magnificence of the ocean, and within the small but useful aven the lofty masts of many vessels, with the busy scene of industrious men interchanging the coals, lime, timber, and other articles from Wales, for the rich ore from/ the mines. The Pier was built A. D. 1760, with the jetty and some warehouses, and the noble lord of Tehidy (whose property it is) considerably improved it about the year 1781, and in 1782 erected two batteries on the cliffs against the privateers which the war then brought on our coasts;---since then his Lordship granted a lease to those respectable and enterprizing gentlemen, Messrs. Fox and Co. of Falmouth, who have expended a large sum thereon, and made Rail-roads to the mines, and thus have made the commerce of this little port probably of more importance for its size than any other in the County! Pursuing the route northward on our western coast we reach ST. AGNES, an extensive parish in the hundred of Pyder, which Pyder (Hals says) is synonimous with Peter, a British divine in the 5th Century. The origin of the name of the town is from St. Agnes, a noble Roman lady, beautiful and ardently attached to the Christian cause, who suffered martyr dom for her religion, A. D. 304. It is a small town, and had formerly a good harbour, but not all the works erected at a great expence that for several ages have been attempted by able engineers have proved effectual in preserving it from the violence of storms and the overwhelming spread of sand, for now it is nearly choaked up, and affords but poor shelter. St. Agnes may well be proud of her native genius, OPIE the Painter, who as a boy in humble life, had his talents unfolded by Wolcott (alias Peter Pindar) the literary Cornish genius, and patronized by him, became a member of the Royal Academy, and besides his pictures, has enriched posterity with his Lectures on Painting, which will greatly facilitate the efforts of any rising genius. The Church is an an cient edifice, and by usage there is a TO A YOUNG LADY WHO ASKED,- There is a love which lasts a while,- And shuts when clouds come o'er. A plant that's ever green, No scanty soil, TRUB-LOVE must find LOVE'S VICTIM. She left her own warm home To tempt the frozen waste, What time the traveller fear'd to roam, And hunter shunn'd the blast, Love pour'd his strength into her soulCould peril e'er his power controul? She left her own warm home, When stoue, and herb, aud tree, And all beneath heaven's lurid dome By wintry majesty, In his stern age, were clad with snow, And human hearts beat chill and slow. It was a fearful hour For one so young and fair; The woods had not one sheltering bower, The very boughs in silver slept, Snow after snow came down, The sky look'd fix'd in ice; She deem'd amid the season's power, To keep the source of being warm, She thought but of her heart, She dream'd not that its home of clay Passion so strong and pure, Might mock the snow-flake's wildering shower, Proud that it could endure, As woman oft in times before Had peril borne as much or more. A gently swelling hill, 'Twas by that little hill, At the dark noon of night, Close by a frozen snow-hid rill, Where branches close unite Even in winter's leafless time, The skeletons of summer's prime. That flash'd the traveller's flame With head against a trunk inclined, Like a dream-spirit of the mind. 'Twas that love-wandered maid, death-pale, Her very heart's blood froze, Love's Niobe, in her own vale, Now reckless of all woes Love's victim fair, and true, and meet, The mountains round shall tell A few miles below the Notch of the White Mountains in the Valley of Saco, is a little rise of land called Nancy Hill. It was formerly thickly covered with trees, a cluster of which remains to mark the spot. In 1733, at Dartmouth, Jefferson Co. U.S. lived Nancy of respectable connexions. She was engaged to be married, Her lover had set out for Lancaster. She would follow him in the depth of winter, and on foot. There was not a house for thirty miles, and the way through the wild woods a footpath only. She persisted in her design, and wrapping herself in her long cloak, proceeded on her way. Snow and frost took place for several weeks, when some persons passing her route, reached the hill at night. On lighting their fires, an unearthly figure stood before them, beneath the bending brauches, wrapped in a robe of ice. It was the lifeless form of Nancy. O sink to sleep, my baby dear, A little while forget thy sorrow, The wind is cold, the night is drear, But drearier it will be to-morrow. For none will help, tho' many see Our wretchedness, then close thine eyes, love, Oh, most unbless'd on earth is she Who on another's aid relies, love. Thou hear'st me not! thy heart's asleep Already, and thy lids are closing, Then lie thee still, and I will weep Whilst thou, my dearest, art reposing, And with thee in yon aeaven awaken, |