saving her feelings before the court adj urned, that they thought I had been after the money, and that he was would not meet the next morning until ten o'clock.-forming some excuse for my not finding what he knew They met at nine, and before she got there, their verdict of guilty was recorded against the prisoner. was not there. "You see me, Squire, without a coat, my hat's gone too, Job Fowler, the scoundrel-he knows about that bottle-he was taken yesterday out of the jail to be tried just as they brought me in, I thought though n y respectable clothes hadn't done me any good that they might be of service to him, as his case wasn't strong and every As they were taking Brown to the jail he asked me to step over and see him, saying that he had a fee for me. I had been unable to get om him more than a promise to pay before his trial. I, of course, gave that up as fruitless, and appeared for him on Sarah's account, not on his own, or with any hope of acquitting him. I there-little helps out in such cases, as they help the other way fore was surprised at his remark ad followed him to the jail. He was placed in a cell by himself—the rule || after conviction-and I went in with him at his request and we were left alone. when the thing's dark, so I lent them to him. He was found not guilty, and he walked off with my wardrobe, so the jury, damn them, aided and abetted him in committing a felony in the very act of acquitting him from "Squire," said he, with more emotion than I thought one, and by this time he's got that money. Never mind him capable of; "I don't care so much for myself-Iwe shall be the state's guests together yet, in her palace could stand it, I am almost guilt-hardened—but when I at Columbus." think of my mother-oh! God-and Sarah, she has been as true to me as if I were an angel instead of a devilbut she wasn't in court to-day." "No," said I; "I told her the court would not sit until ten o'clock. I saw how deeply she was interested, and I saved her the shock of hearing your guilt pronounced in open court." “Blast that prosecuting attorney," exclaimed Brown, gnashing his teeth, "why need he go out of the case to abuse me about my mother, before Sarah-I'd like to catch him in the middle of the Ohio swimming some dark night-if he didn't go to the bottom and stay there it would be because I couldn't keep him down. But Squire, about that fee-you trusted me, and as you are the first lawyer that ever did, I'll show you that I am for once, worthy of confidence. Over the Licking river, a quarter of a mile up on the Covington side-you know Squire, the Licking is the river right opposite to Cincin nati, in Kentucky-Well, over that river, a quarter of a mile up, you will see, about fifteen feet from the bank, a large tree standing by itself, with a large hole on the east side of it. Run your hand up that hole, and you will take hold of a black bottle, corked tight-break it open. In it you will find fifteen hundred dollars-five hundred of it is counterfeit—the rest is good. Squire, it is your fee. Your character and countenance is good enough to pass the whole of it." I bowed to the compliment which Brown paid my "character and countenance," at the expense of my morals and said, “you are not hoaxing me, I hope." "I am not in that mood, Squire," replied the convict, and asking me for my pencil, he drew on the wall a rough map of the locality of the river and tree, and repeated earnestly the assertion, that he himself in the hollow of the tree, had hid the bottle. I left him rubbing the marks of his map from the wall, determined at the first opportunity to make a visit to the spot. The next day my professional duties called me on a visit to another prisoner in the jail, when Brown asked through the little loop hole of his door, if I had got that yet. "No, Brown," I replied, "I have not had time to go there." "Then, Squire," he exclaimed, "you are in as bad a fix as I am, and the thing's out." || What Brown told me with regard to the bottle and Job Fowler, was indeed truth. Job was acquitted in Brown's clothes, and he walked off in them, and wended instantly to the tree beside the Licking, where he found the bottle, which he rifled of its contents without the trouble of uncorking it. Mistaking the bad money for the good, he returned instantly to Cincinnati, and attempted to pass some of it. The man to whom he offered it, happened to be in the court house, a spectator of his trial. His suspicions were aroused. He had Mr. Job, arrested, and on him was found the fifteen hundred dollars. A thousand dollars of it were good, but I got none of it, for the gentleman from whom Brown and Fowler together had stolen it, was found. The very day that Brown was convicted, and Job acquitted in the former's clothes, he was arrested for passing the counterfeit money. A bill was found against him that morning. He was tried that afternoon and convicted, and the day after, he and Brown, handcuffed together, were conveyed to the penitentiary. To be concluded. STANZAS. F. W. T. WRITTEN BY THE GRAVE OF A GIRL WHO COMMITTED SUICIDE. GREEN, green waves, the summer above thy lone pillow, Send its mild lucid tears from each star-weeping fountain "How so," I asked-I began to suspect that he To nurture thy heath couch-poor maiden, adieu! "OUR LIBRARY."-No. I. BY MRS. EMMA C. EMBURY. - PART SECOND. By the time my present lucubrations reach thee, gentle reader, the soft breath of autumnal gales will have ceased to sweep over the gorgeous foliage of the woods, the bright leaves will be strewn thickly upon our path, the luscious fruits that now load our vines will have vanished, and the biting blasts which winter sends to warn us of his coming, will sound mournfully amid the naked trees of the forest. Thy summer wanderings will then be at an end, thy peregrinations will at last tend homewards, and the cheerful fire will gladden the eyes, and the old accustomed seat, will receive the idle pleasure-seeker and the weary traveller. After contemplating the works of God in the wide-spread field of his bounty which the country presents, thou wilt have returned to dwell amid the works of man in the crowded city, the busy village, or the bustling household. The brief breathing-time which thou hast snatched from amid the turmoils of existence, will be past, while the cares and the pleasures, the business and the follies of active life will again demand thy thoughts. The multitude who have wandered off, like sheep, into green pastures, will now do homage to their gregarious habits by returning within the fold, and society will once more gather its scattered flock. Did'st Did it ever occur to thee, friend reader, to reflect "Men have died, and worms have eat them, Says the poet of human nature: the saying is often quo- but they might be answered in the words of one not less skilled in the love of suffering: "The heart may break, yet brokenly live on!" That which was begun in mirth may end in madness; for the heart which has suffered the disappointment of its early affections, never regains its former child-like healthfulness. Sorrow' must always be knowledge. Sometimes it imparts good, and we become purified from many an earthly taint beneath the ministration of affliction;-sometimes it awakens the soul to evil thoughts, and the bitterness and malevolence of later life may flow from the tainted fountain of early disappointment. But in all cases, it plants the seeds of distrust. The trustful temper-the confiding faith which when knew no guile, and feared no evil, is gone for ever, we have once suffered from deceit. New affections may be awakened in the bosom-affections far stronger than the youthful phantasy which first called forth the music of the passions-but the undoubting faith in others, which was so sweet in early life, can never return. We no longer pour out the full tide of confiding tenderness into the heart of another. A vague fear, a dimly shadowed remembrance which takes the form of a presentiment of future ill, checks the fond accents ere they form upon the lips-we utter our thoughts, but repress our feelings-because, we have been taught to doult. A young fair girl, a creature of surpassing loveliness and gentleness, acknowledges, that when presented to a gentleman, her first thought is, "how can I best please him and make myself an object of especial interest to him?" She avows herself at once a coquette, and abuses to purposes of mischief the gifts which God has bestowed upon her for good. When a man distinguished for some peculiar graces of mind, or person, or manner, sets himself to the task, not of pleasing generally in society but of winning the especial regard of various individuals of the gentler sex, he acts a part equally contemptible, and it is to be regretted that the English language affords no stronger epithet for him than that of a male flirt.' Now, is there no vanity in the thoughts, no selfishness in the purposes-no hypocrisy in the conduct of such persons? To occupy a worthy station in society-to make one's self agreeable, which is a duty no less than a pleasure to symphathise in the joys and sorrows of our fellow beings-all this is right, and may be done with the utmost truthfulness. But the spirit of coquetry is very different from the spirit of brotherly-kindness, and while one produces none but the best results, the other always leads to evil. Were I so disposed, I could tell some tragic tales from real life, as corroborative of my remarks. I could tell of many a gentle heart chilled into early death, or, worse perhaps, withered into the living lifelessness of coldness, distrust, indifference, by some such sin. But thou wouldst accuse me of donning too sombre a garb, gentle reader, were I to appear before thee with all the sad remembrances with which the experience of many of earth's weary ones have gifted Listen then to a tale of common life, where the light and shade are seen by turns, even as they fall upon our daily path, when we walk beneath the sunshine and cloud of an April morning. me. COUSIN KATE; OR, THE WIDOW'S WOOER. "Was ever woman in this humor wooed? Was ever woman in this humor won ?"-Shakspeare. "It is vain to attempt deceiving myself any longer, I am certainly growing old," thought Harry Wilder, as he plucked several intrusive grey hairs from his well-trimmed whiskers ; "I am in admirable preservation-my teeth are fine—my hair still luxuriant-my eyes undimmed, yet as Hook says of that everlasting juvenile, Count D'Orsay "Years may fly on the wings of the hawk, but alas! They are marked by the feet of the crow." so there is as yet no danger of rivals. September is a pleasant month to spend in the country-there is capital shooting in the old general's grounds:-by Jove, I'll go, who knows but I may start some game worth hunting." Such were the reflections of a "ci-devant jeune homme," a selfish votary of fashion, who having wasted his best years in folly was now suffering from the aching void and weariness of heart which, sooner or later, makes the punishment of all such spendthrifts. A fine person, a quick wit and an elegant tongue, had been his recommendations when he first entered society; need I add that he was every where successful? But all men have some peculiar talent, and Harry Wilder was no My cotemporaries have grown old and grey, their exception to the rule. His genius lay not in science, nor children have shot up into men and women, and when I in the belles lettres, nor yet in music or the fine arts, appear among the young people of the present day, there but in an especial faculty for 'flirtation.' The moment is always some meddling fool disposed to chronologise, he addressed a lady, there was a softening of his voice, and to trace back some forty or by 'r lady,' fifty years. a gentle drooping of his fringed eyelid, a tender earnestThe ladies are quite too familiar with me;-they don't ness in his language, which was perfectly fascinating to hesitate to ask favors from me, to pay compliments to a young and uninitiated girl. Nay, even practised me, and to accept my services on all occasions. It is a coquettes were found to feel the effect of his fascinations. bad sign—women don't admit young men to such privile- Other men might be more intellectual, more amiable ges, and I am fast becoming one of the favored tribe more disinterested in their attentions, but none had the of 'old bachelors.' Heigh-ho!-I wish I had married winning ways of Harry Wilder. There was an indescriten years ago. There was little Agnes Morton-but no, bable softness in his manner which led each woman to she has become an arrant shrew, and scolds from morn- believe that she was the especial object of his secret ing to night-I am glad I escaped her :-the stately affection. If I were desirous of teaching men the true Sophia Danvers-pah! she is as old as my mother now: secret of attracting the kindly feelings of the young and pretty Mary Winton-why she looks now like a creole unhackneyed heart of woman, I should express it in one fattened on Gumbo soup:-How many such women-have word: Deference. I mean not a servile submission to I courted and really fancied myself half in love with. the caprice of a spoiled beauty, but a deference of manAfter all, I never loved any one half so well as I didner joined to independence of thought and opinion. A sweet cousin Kate; by Jupiter, but she was a lovely crea- |' sudden change from the bold careless tone with which a ture at seventeen-with her deep, grey eye, and rose-bud mouth-a being half shade, half sunshine-with the strong feelings of a woman and the joyous fancies of a child. I ought to have married that girl:-what a shame that she should have sacrificed herself to that superannuated General Baynton:-yet he was a fine specimen of the old American gentleman, stately and punctilious in his politeness, but never forgetting the slightest claim upon his attention. I dare say he made an excellent father to his young bride, and cousin Kate must feel doubly orphaned by his death. I wonder if she remembers our early flirtation:-she must now have arrived at that awkward corner in woman's life when she is obliged to count thirty. She is almost too old for me, for as I approach the ugly milestone which bears the unsightly L, and speaks too plainly of the downhill road, I seem to affect the youthful of the opposite sex. But will they affect me? that is a question to be considered. Kate must still be handsome-she is rich too-no trifling consideration by the way. Baynton left her his whole fortune, and with her beauty she will not lack temptations to a second marriage. She must have acquired some skill in nursing during her five years bondage to an old husband and that is another advantage, for these cursed fits of the gout make me feel the want of 'gentle ministration.' I have a great mind to pay her a visit. Her husband has been dead two years, and she is still living in the seclusion of her elegant mansion in man addresses his own sex to subdued gentleness of demeanor the moment he accosts a woman-the soft cadence of voice, softened by her presence and for her sake-are the highest compliments which can be paid the gentle sex, and by refined minds are always appreciated. Those delicate attentions are like the minute touches on a picture, they can scarcely be defined, yet their effect is immediately perceptible. They seem like a tribute of respect paid to the sex, as to a purer order of beings, and they differ most widely, I am sorry to say, from the manners now generally in vogue among young gentlemen. However, it was the secret of Harry Wilder's success, and he availed himself fully of his power. Many a young heart might date its first knowledge of disappointment from the hour when the music of Harry Wilder's voice first awakened it to consciousness-many a fair cheek has brightened beneath the impassioned glances of his downcast eye, only to grow pale in solitude over the contemplation of hope deferred :—many an unsophisticated mind has learned its first lessons in deception from the sweet words which said so much and meant so little. The estates of the deceased General Baynton were situated in the loveliest part of the beautiful valley of the Connecticut. A lawn, some ten acres in extent, and studded with every variety of American forest trees, surrounded the mansion, while through the many vistas which had been skilfully opened, the graceful windings something beyond amusement. His feelings had become deeply interested in the beautiful widow, and all that yet remained of his wasted affections, were offered up on the shrine of her loveliness. Years had passed since the period when he had beguiled a summer in the country of the river were visible from every window. The house itself, built of stone, in the substantial fashion of a century since, and adorned with a stately portico and colonade, formed a striking and noble feature in the landscape. No alteration had been made in it since its erection, excepting the substitution of large French case-by carrying on a 'flirtation' with his cousin; during all ments, in place of the small diamond-paned sashes which formerly admitted a dubious light; but this change had been so judiciously managed that all appearance of incongruity was avoided, and the heavy lintels and deep embrasures of the windows rather added to its antiquity. It was a lovely spot, and as Harry Wilder rode slowly through the long avenue of superb elms which led to the abode of his widowed cousin, he did not wonder that she should prefer the seclusion of such a home to the frivolous amusements of a town life. that time he had not seen her, first from a consciousness of wrong inflicted upon her, and afterwards from perfect indifference. He listened to the tidings of her marriage with a shrug and a sneer, and thought no more of it until recent uncomfortable symptoms of old age, recalled to his remembrance the image of one whom he thought so well worthy of the honor of his hand. It may be doubted, whether he would have discovered so many charms in Mrs. Baynton, had he found her surrounded by the evidences of poverty, instead of the appliances of Harry Wilder had no reason to be dissatisfied with his wealth; for there are few gems so bright as not to reception at " Baynton." Cousin Kate was kind, cordial appear more brilliant in a rich setting, but certain it is, and lady-like, and although he would have been better that he was little prepared for such a perfect develope pleased if she had been a little less self-possessed, yetment of female loveliness as he found in his half-forgotten his vanity led him to conclude that this was rather the relative. He had gone through life, beloved, rather than effect of pride than indifference. Indeed it was surpri-loving-exciting regard but bestowing none-gaining sing, how rapidly his mind accumulated evidences of her affection, but giving in return only a cold sentiment, early attachment to him. "She certainly was in love which partook far more of the nature of gratified vanity with me ten years since," said he to himself; "I suspect than of attachment; until now, in the autumn of his that pique had more to do with her marriage than any days, he was glad to grasp at even the unsubstantial other feeling, unless indeed she was influenced by his shadow of love. Alas! an unsubstantial shadow, is all enormous wealth. Well, she is a true woman-she has that such spendthrift hearts can ever possess. As the gratified her ambition, and now I will give her a chance magicians of old were wont to raise a 'spectre of the to consult the dictates of affection." Such had been his the rose' from the warm ashes of the consumed flower, reflections while travelling towards Baynton, and by the so the spell of beauty may call up the ghost of passion time he arrived there, he had actually reasoned himself in the seared bosom, but it will be at best but a shadowy into the belief that he had but to sue and all would be semblance of affection. It were easier to gather up the settled to his satisfaction. scattered leaves of a faded flower, and bind them again into an unfolded bud, than to awaken true and lasting tenderness in a heart whose best affections have been wasted on every passing fancy, like incense flung upon the winds. Our hero of a thousand loves,' had a most decided liking for his cousin. He liked her appearance, for she was very beautiful-he liked her mode of life, for it was magnificent-he liked her fortune, for it was enormous, he liked her cheerfulness of temper and mental graces, for they contributed to his amusement. But all his reasons for liking her were purely and entirely selfish. There was no devotedness of thought, no sacrifice of individual feelings in his regard. No one loves truly without being sensible that the happiness of the beloved object is far dearer than his own; and, Wilder's passion could scarcely bear such a test. He was impressed with the idea that the pretty widow could materially increase his enjoyments and therefore, he determined to offer her his hand. Yet he was not quite satisfied with Mrs. Baynton's conduct towards him. He could not deceive Weeks passed on, and Harry Wilder was still linger- himself so far as to believe that his presence was essening at Baynton. Fishing and shooting, riding on horse-tial to her, and in fact, he was conscious that she was back with his pretty cousin, exploring the curious relics || quite independent of him. She had a certain round of of olden times with which the mansion was stored, or delving into the rich treasures of the fine old library, afforded a variety of resources which might well satisfy even the wearied votary of excitement. But he sought Mrs. Baynton was just at that age when beauty has arrived at full maturity. With a figure almost fairy-like in its proportions, a complexion of that rich creamy whiteness, which the slightest flush of color would spoil, lips of velvet softness, eyes of the deepest blue, and a profusion of pale, brown hair, she was indeed one of the most beautiful of women. Her neat half-mourning garb, worn without other ornament than a simple jet cross suspended from her snowy neck, seemed to add to the chaste loveliness of her appearance, and Harry Wilder, man of the world as he was, looked almost with wonder || upon the delicate, spiritualized beauty of his once merry, rosy-cheeked cousin. Placid, cheerful, and intelligent, she charmed him by her powers of her conversation, even while she overawed him by the gentle dignity of her manners. He marvelled at his own feelings when he found himself listening day after day, with renewed pleasure, to one who possessed none of the brilliancy and piquancy of character which he had long admired in women. duties which she performed as rigidly as if her cousin had not been with her to claim her attentions. The poor pensioners on her bounty were daily visited-her class in Sunday school was not forgotten-she never, in "So do I," said Mrs. Baynton, quietly, "but I do not know that it is more to be despised than slang—both are revolting to good taste." "A man can be fashionable without imbibing the slang terms of any set, Cousin Kate." "I believe it, Harry, and a woman can also be religious without dealing in cant. Do you find Mr. Lee intrusive in his opinion?" Oh, by no means; he seems almost to lack the gift of speech until your presence inspires him with courage and eloquence. You must really be careful, Madam Baynton, or you will make the poor fellow quite in love with you, and it would really be a sin to flirt with so innocent a victim." "Do you think so," said Kate, while an arch smile dimpled her round cheek, well, if Harry Wilder preaches against flirtation, either the world is reforming, or else-growing older." a single instance, omitted her regular attendance at fanaticism; you must revisit the gay scenes of the city, church; in short, Harry thought she gave far too much, and you will find, on your return, that this unlicked cub attention to such unworldly matters. He began to fear will be as intolerable to you as he now is to me. I detest she was 'falling into fanaticism' as he styled it, and when cant." he calculated the large sums which she annually expended on benevolent objects, he felt there was no time to be lost in checking such profusion. What! spend money on churches and charities, when it might purchase so many of the luxuries of life !-it was utterly preposterous: the man of fashion could not understand it. There were a few other annoyances which he determined to be rid of,|| as soon as he was the husband of Cousin Kate. He did not like her associates;-there were several old women with whom she was an especial favorite, and they paid awfully long visits-the young ladies were not much more agreeable to him, for they seemed quite indifferent to the fascinations of the semi-centennial beau. But the severest trial to his temper, was the presence of the clergyman of the parish. Mr. Lee was a small man, rather round shouldered, and not particularly graceful. The feminine beauty of his mouth, his brilliant smile and his fine forehead were all that redeemed his countenance from positive ugliness. He was near-sighted and wore glasses-he was bald and wore a wig-and to make It was the afternoon of a glorious October day, the matters worse, he was some fifteen years younger than sun was verging towards the west, and the richly-tinted the elegant Mr. Wilder. Shy and reserved in general clouds were gathering around him as if to curtain his society, Mr. Lee was like an inspired being when in the repose beneath their gorgeous drapery. The foliage pulpit. The constraint which gave a degree of awk- wore the many-colored hues of our beautiful autumn, wardness to his ordinary manner, vanished before the while the soft grass was yet as bright in its emerald grace of eloquence, and the lips which uttered in falter- green, as if it had just sprung up beneath the warm ing accents the language of worldly wisdom, seemed gales of spring. The lofty hills were clothed in their touched with a live coal from the altar, when they dis- dun evergreens, while the bright river glittered in the coursed of the mysteries of christianity. All his genius, distance like molten gold beneath the evening ray. The and it was great—all his learning, and it was manifold-cousins were seated in the deep embrasure of the all his imagination, and it was multiform, were consecrated to the service of his Maker. He was no 'carpet-circumstance seemed so favorable to his purpose, that knight,' to bandy jest with silly maidens-but a warrior of the church-militant-never throwing off the panoply of his vocation, and never forgetting the meekness which is the true weapon of faith. He was the almoner of much of || Mrs. Baynton's bounty. His position as pastor of the church to which she had attached herself, rendered his visits to her a matter of duty, and she had a peculiar faculty for placing the shy student at perfect ease in her presence. Wilder despised him for his religion, and disliked him on account of his influence with the widow. "Here comes that eternal parson Lee, again," exclaimed Wilder, impatiently, as he looked from the casement one evening; "do look, Cousin Kate, how he shambles up the avenue; upon my word it would be doing him a kindness to make him attend a few militia drills. How can you tolerate such a bear?" western window in the library, and the time, place and Wilder resolved, ere the sun sunk beneath the horizon, Kate Baynton should be his affianced bride. With the tact in which he was so well practised, he directed the conversation, until amid reminiscences of early days, and half-uttered expressions of purest emotion, he thought he perceived the favorable moment. Harry Wilder did not throw himself on his knees-men don't do such things in our days;-but with a manly tenderness and earnestness that almost surprised himself, he offered her his heart and hand. There are, probably, no two women who act alike in such circumstances. The feelings regulate the conduet so entirely at such a moment, that all rules, however rigidly enforced by careful mamas, are quite forgotten. But Wilder was scarcely prepared for such perfect self-possession as Cousin Kate exhibited. It is true a deep flush mounted to her cheek and brow, A slight flash mounted to her cheek, as she replied—|| as she listened to his protestations, but ere he had closed, "It is not always in an alabaster box that the most pre-her face was again colorless and calm. Quietly extrica cious odors are enclosed, cousin Harry;" then, with ating her hand from his grasp, she looked full in his face, emile, she added, "would you have me eschew the || and said "before I answer you, Cousin Harry, I have a society of all those who have been less highly favored by long story to tell; will you listen to me now?" nature than the present company?" "This instant; let me know my fate at once!" Kate smiled faintly at his earnestness, as she said, Some twelve years ago, I was the orphan daughter of a widowed mother, with but one other relative in the |