Weekly Messenger, Volume 1, Number 89, Vevay, Switzerland County, 25 May 1833 — Page 4

. ItlllGSENGER.

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.'-V-', a. ' Li!:-:---U;tti i.--Sen--;; ' Aim'-es What r. 'I'- w i: S ! ct H-t.-.v-: l if! i.I!, i -, :cnt i;;.!-.vrei-ks tiiv dower! in valley and sea. .1 ivc:s si ynnei 3 are buried in 1 1 ice ! riches of Mexico's mines .1 l ir down in d eep water; i:ie,? n n ns rr-'ii'i I'Kit cover the conquering ! :'. to death with one heave v 1 From 1,!'-, lulls th.it view ihy v.-reck m,r Tin1 br;'i f the snarriucr shrieks at thy r-.;: Like I sinbs id the temnest or mows in the h'a-t. O'er lite riige broken billows the canvass is cist. How hum i SOU:. Tit 1 Hk :'I -' i i : to one wii'a a h "art ana a tness list to thy roll i o tiauk !nw th.ii heart m ( ,lr! ashes shuli While Eton tl.ee. s voire doth rise up from ie whore a c cities of Thebes and Tyro, Swept i'i ni tho n-ition like sparks fr cm 7 ho .:? The ihry of Athens the splendor o! K ace Dissolved unu forever, like down in thv fiarn - Hat iii on art ahnihv pfernal sublime Ujive;:kf nod wiiwasted twin brother of time! Fieri-, icmoests, nor nation, thy glorv ran bow; As the star fi st beheld thee, still chainless urr thou! B it hold! when thv surges no longer shall roll. And firmaments length is drawn back like a srrol' Then then shall the spirit that sighs by t'ice now. lie more iniL'h'v more lasting hain'pss thin thou. -more STANZS. "P ASS OX, TiELErVlESS WOULD !" Swifter and swifter, dav by d:iv, Down tirrcs unquiet current hurled, "'imi'il'iimis and unstable world ! firm pttssest on! time hail; not seen 2 Way opon thv hurried path; Ad prayers and tears -alike have been In vain to stay thy course of wrath! Thou passest on, and with the co The i:vesof youth t';e cares of aieAnd smile and (oars, and joy and wo ' Arc on thy history's bloody nae! There, every day, like esterdav, Write hopes that end in mockery; Bit who shall tear the veil away, Before the abss of things to be? Thon passes? on, vif at thv side. Even as a shade, Oblivion treads, And o'er the dreams of human pride, His misty shroud f rever spreads; Where all thine iron-hand lias traced Upon that, gloomy scroll to-day, W'tli reccrJs ages since efficed Like them shall livelike them decay. Thon p-isseston with thee, the vain, That sport upon the flaunting blaze, Pride, framed of dust, and Folly's train, Who court thy love, and run thy ways, But thou and 4 and Ik? it so Press onwards to eternity; Yet not together let us go To that deep-voiced but shoreless sea! Th 111 hist thy fiiends I would have mine; Thou hast thy thoughts leave me my ow n : I keel u t at thv gilded shrine 1 I ovv n t at thy slavish throne! Iv! let them pass without a sigh; They make no swelling rapture now, The fierce delights thu fire thine eye The triumphs of thy haughty brow! P.i-s on, re! en tl pes world! 1 grieve No more for all ih at thou ha-t riven; Pass on, in G .d's name only leave Tiie thing tho-.i never yet hast given: A heart at ease a mind at home A Heel ions fixed above thy sway Faith set upon a world to come, And patience through life's little dav. g, i V .2 A'EMSKI.W T.tLE. CHAPTER IV. 50 light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, 51 light to the saddle before he sprung, "She's won! we are gone, over bank, bush and scaur, inev will have fleet steeds that follow." quoth young Loch invar. Scott. The next day was spent by Ever ingion in making the necessary preparations for flight. Horses were procurred, and every thing was arranged I k r.. .. . i . "Ms uviuie evening came on. Il was tho intention of Everington to gain, ifl possible, the passes of the Helzerdera before morning, with his prize: and then secrete thems-elves, or proceed, as circumstances should dictate. A

mong the rude but hospitable natives of these mountains, he knew he could

J'jrtVC time to determine on his further j;"tise. He was jnore confirmed i I ! ; is !a!' bceai!!e Ilamors had spent j?ome years in that region, when young, j nd was well acquainted, not only with (the Kurdistan dialect, spoken theie, lout was familiar with the localities of that mountain region: nnn because from that point, he could, with equal case, pursue his route to Bagdad, or TrflisEverington came and found every thing prepaied for flight. As the last ,ravs of the sun gilded the peaks of the etzerdera, Everington and Hamors placed their steeds in a thick grove of Mangoes, at a considerable distance from the cit, and but a short 6pace from the river, down which, should 'hey succeed in escaping from the gar dens, they knew it would he necessary to float. They then piocured the little skiff, which they had used the eve nit'g previous, and as the moon began to decline and mark the hour appointed, Everington and bis servant found themselv s at the place of ascent. The boat was again secured and again they ur cessfully ascended the wall. Every thing around them bore the same appearance of festive joyousnefs, winch it had done the evening before. The palace was illuminated lamps glittered in every recess to which the moonbeams could not penetrate gay and beautiful forms, the tenants of the harem, were gliding about; their steps followed at a respectful distance, by the black eunuchs, who had them in charge music lent its witchery : and while the adventurer carefully thread ed his way through the most unfrequented waiks, and at intervals caught glimpses of the majestic domes of he palace while he listened to the sweet tones of music while he breathed air freighted with the fragrance of a thousand flowers, he felt that the splendid scenes of oriental romance were not altogether fabulous. Silently they approached the bower, and Everington breathed mote freely, when he saw two female Lrms, the airy gracefulness of one cf which he could not mistake, enter beneath (lie shadows of the orange and acacias, whose branches met and mingled over the opposite entrance. He was not mistaken, for in a moment the beauti fnl Coraliun was in his arms and clasp ed to his bosom. 41 Thank heaven, we have met, 1 trut, never again to sep '-t-V' tiVt 1 KmivMi, as he atieclionalely kissed the blushing girl. 'We y have met," said the lovely maiden, tn a voice which trembled with deep feeling, "e have met, but it is that I may warn you cf your danger, bid you farewell, and he miserabh "Coralinn." said Everington, "if ou iove me, think not of any danger that threatens me; think of the fate tnat awaits you, if you remain where you are." "Gracious Allah protect me?" exclaimed the beautiful girl, as a sens of her helpless situation flashed over her mind, and she instinctively clung to the arm ef the person sh- loved, and from whom she scarcely knew ho.v she looked for protection and safety. "We are losing the precious time," said Everington; and taking the fearful and half reluctant Coralinn in h;s arm9, with his lovely burden he led the way to the wall, followed by their two attendants. Without dirh ul(y they ascended to the summit, from whence, without delay, Everington descended into the boat, to which Hamors lowered the girls, and having witnessed their safety, followed himself. Losing the boat from its grape-vine fastenings, they floated down the river, passing numbers both on the waters and on the shores, who were enjoying the beautiful evening; and Il linois, to prevent notice, mingled the music of his lute with that which from the shores echoed over the waters, on which the last rays of the moonbeams were tin gering. Gradually the music died away : the sweet song of the nightingale from the rose bordered margin of the river seemed to swell higher and clearer; and when the moon sunk behind the western mountains, and stars began to glitter in the deep blue sky, the boats sought the shores; and though many spent the night in the gardens that bordered the river, yet that was soon deserted, and Everington and his fair Coralinn, with their attendants, were soon floating on in silence and alone. Coralinn reclined on the bosom of Everington; her hand was clasped in his, and he saw that tears were tremb ling in her dark black eye. "My dear girl," said he, "come cheer up your spirts; the danger is past, hea ven will bless us, and we shall be hap py." "Allah grant that the danger may be past, replied Coralinn; ''hut I trem ble when 1 think what awaits us, if we are overtaken in our flight for myself I care not, I can but die, and will die sooner than submit to the destiny t

which I am destined by the prince but for jou " 0 think not of me," renlied Ever

ng'.on, interrupting her"; ' do not intend to be overtaken; a"d u we are, do not think that I ihall forsake you; I can at least die for yon." "This morning'" said the blushing maiden, "the prince came to me, took my hand, and requested me to wnlk with him in the garden. I could not do otherwise than comply. 'Why so dejected,1 said he, as we turned into a walk which led us from the observation of the attendants; 'why so dejected on the eve of an event whnh 1 had reason tojbelievc would have filled you with pleasure?' Gracious prince, I answered, I am unworthy of the honor you design me; forgive when I say that splendor and royally have no charm for me. Let me entreat you to forget me, and in some of these noble Persian families, seek a bride, worthy of jour self, and your destiny. The piince looked at me sternly and fixedly for a moment, and I trembled beneath ihe glance. 'By the sword of Aii, I see how it is.' he exclaimed fiercely; 'that rascally Frank, that accursed infidel, has been beforehand wiih me in winning your affection; but know that Abbas Iiuza is not to be thwarted in his wishes, and were it not that 1 have promised to delay until to-morrow, the ceremony that makes you mine should tnke place within an hour.' As he pronounced these words, he laid his hand on his cimetar, and swore by the prophet, that, should be discover an) thing on your part to ju-tify the act, no punishment should ne too severe for the presumption i f an accursed infidel. I threw myself on my knees before him, and with tears begged him not to drive me to desperation I t Id him that I could never give him my heart, could never love him, and entreated him to forget me. 'Sweet girl,' said he, 'talk not to me of forgetful ness I shall not trj to forget you: these feelii gs ol yours, jou must for get this relurtance you must over come, and consent, in the splendor of my court, to shine the brightest star in tne diadem of Persia's Prince.' I perceived that it was in vain to remon strate, and as at that moment he was called by a slave, I as left to r fleet i on tiie ominous maunr r in which he re peated, a he left me, the words remembt r to-morrow The boat had now floated down the current to the place where the horses v, ne secreted, and. running th "utile baik on the shore, they acendfd the bank, and soon found themselves seated on spirited charges, and while Ha mors ltd the way across the plains of S( hiras, Everington rode by the side of the fair Circassian, who had, as the di-iance between them and the city increased, gradually recovered her phi?. With the fleetness of the wind. they were lessening the distance that separated them from the mountains, and as they approached the long, I 1 I . J t u sweeping range wnicn Dounueu uie plain on the west, the hope that on its almost inaccessablc gorges and defiles, they should be able to elude the pur suit which they feard, filled them with Thev had reached the mountain, and ascended the first range of hills, as the day broke, and revealed to them in all its beauty, the city and plain they had left. The rising sun threw its glories over the ruins of Peisipoiis, & the shadows of the massive columt.s that stiit remained standing, stiett hed ike chnts over the plain. Beyond, the smooth flowing Bendemir, glitter ed like a silver thread, amidst gardens, and mosques, and groves and palaces. The minarets of Schiras were visible, and the blu mountains which bounded the plain to the eatt had tbeir une ven outlines marked in the hist gush of the sunbeams. Seated on a velvet moss-covered bank, beneath a huge mango tree, in a little dell overshadow ed with fragrant imrMe, the party re posed them-elves; while Hamors pro duced some wine and fruits which he had provided, and thus formed that re treshment which their rapid ride ren dered so desirable, and paiticularly to the ladies. After they had finished their repast, reclined on the smooth turf, they were congratulating themselves on the success which had attended their effoits to escape, when Everington observed the attention of Hamors fixed with anxiety on some object barely visible on the plain in the direction of Schiras. Lverington waited a moment, until he caught the eye of Hamors, when beck oning him to follow, he rose and walked a short distance to a place where the opportunity for observation would be fairer, and where no alarm would be given to Coralinn. "What see you that has thus rivited your attention?" asked Everington, when they were alone. "That which if it were possible my suspicions could be correct, would bode us no good," answered Hamors; "un less I am much deceived, there is a party of horsemen yonder; that cloud of dust would indicate rapid movement

Jand it is, I think, in this direclien." iwere glad to see him, and invited him I " Your eyes are better than mine, if to make their house (as he declared I you can make a party of horsemen outlbis intention of remaining in the citv

of that speck," said Everington; "butjbut a day or two) his home. The hus-

o u w iiai il may, peiiiaps ve iiau uci ju.iiiu oi inc lauj , nimuus iu snuv. alter be moving, as our horses, by thisitention to a relative and friend of his

time, must be sufficiently breathed. (wife, took the gentleman s horse to a Coralinn and her attendant werejiivery stable in Hanover street, and

now busily engaged in picking some of the wild berries of the mountain and admiring the beautiful scenerj 1 below and above them; but they im mediately obeyed the summons of Hamois, and the whole parly were under way towards the 6econd range of moun tain. After a ride of an hour, througn a ravine that shut from their view the plain, they etnerged on a kind of table land, from which they were able to view the course they had traversed, and the) now found that the conjet tores of Ha me i s were correct, as a d"Zen horsemen. at least, were plainly to be seen rapidly following the same track over the plain that had been pursued by themselves. Coralinn was not yet apprised of the apprehended dan ger; but to add to the fears of Everington, he saw from the fatigue that she exhibited, although she complain ed not, that her delicate frame was unequal to the exertion which would in all probability, be required, to make their escape. It was impossible to conceal the danger longer from her, fi r her quick glance over the plain, at once, saw the party, and comprehend ed their object. "Everington" said she, while her blanched cheek told the agony of her f'-elings; "we are pursued; it is not yet too late for yon to save yourself leave me, and hasten to place that barrier of mountains between you and certain destruction." "I regret, my dear Coralinn," replied Everington, "that you should have such a despicable opinion of me, as to ojppose that I would forsake you now; no my love. Abbas Mil a cannot make me shiink from rm purpose of saving vou or perishing in the attempt." "Let us not despair," said Hamors; "we are not as yet certain that these men are in pursuit of us; and if they are, 1 trust we shall find some way to evade them." The horsemen were eo near thai they could be distinctly counted; and their polished arms glittering in tne sun and the long white horse-hair that waved from their caps, indicated that thev belonged to the household tioops of the prince, thus dispersing every JouLt us tn their object and destina tion. The fugitives' now pressed torward with all speed possible, but it was evident that Coralinn's strength whs unequal to the task before them, she used every exertion to keep up her spiiits it was in vain; and the fatigue nf another hour's riding, made it lie ctssary that they should again halt. "Whit can be done?" said Evering ton to Hamors: "Can we not find some place where we may deviate from the usual route, and thus shun our pursuers, or be enabled to choose our owu ground for our defence." "I have thought of such a plan myself," replied the faithful Hamors; "there is such a spot a little beyond us, but if we choose it and are overtaken, we must die or be captured there is no leaving it." "Do not hesitate," said the half faint ing Coralinn; "in this course we must be overtaken; in that way we may es cape." to be continued Courtship and Marriage. The pleasanlest part of man's life is that which passes in courtship. Love, desire, hope, and all the pleasing emo fions of the soul, arise in the pursuit An artful man is more likely to succeed than the sincere lover. The lover has ten thousand griefs, impertinences, and resentments, which render a man unamiable, and often ridiculous. Where the choice is left to friends, the chief point is an estate. Where the persons choose for themselves, their thoughts turn upon the person. The first would provide for the conven ienre of life; the others are preparing for a perpetual feast. An agreeable woman is preferable to a perfect beau ty. COod nature and evenness of tern per, will give )ou an easy companion for life; virtue and good 6ense, an agreeable friend; love and constancy, a good wife or husband. Of all dis parities, that in humor makes the most unhappy marriages, yet scarce enters our thoughts in contradicting them. Before marriage we cannot be too in quisitive and diserning in the faults the person beloved, nor after it too dimsighted and 6upeificial. Marriage enlarges the scene of our happiness or misery. A marriage of love is pleasant; of interest easy: and where both meet, happy only to those who tread the paths of life together in a constant uniform course of virtue. Cousixing. A poor country minister lately arrived at Boston, Mass. and immediately repaired to the house of a relative, n lady who had married a merchant f that city. The parlies

had it put up there. Finally, howev

er, the "visit became a "visitation," and the merchant, after a lapse cf ele ven days, tound that hordes lodging and boarding the gentleman, a "pettv considerable" bill had run up .-it the. livery stable. Accordingly he went to the man that kept it, and told him, when the gentleman took awy his horse he would pay the bill." "Very good," said the stable keeper, 4il understand you." Accordingly, in h shorl time, the country genj4eman went to ihe stable, and ordered his horse to be got ready. The bill of course was presented. "Oh," said the gentleman, "Mr. so and so, my relation, will pay this." "Very geed, sir," said thr stable keeper, ''please to get an order from Mr. ; it will be the same as the money." The horse was put up again, and down went the country gen tleman to the Liorg Wharf, where the .'merchant kept. "Well," said he, "I'm going now." "Are you," said the merchant, "well, good bye, sir." ''Well about my horse, the man says the bill must be paid for his keeping." "Well, I suppose that's all right, sir." "Yes well but you know that Pm your wife's cousin." "Yes," said the merchant, "I know you are, "but rm d d if your hone is. The meeting; of Waters. The meeting of certain rivers with the ocean is thus beautifully described in Malte B run's Geography: " 1 he rivers running into the tea present a great variety of interesting phenomena. Many form bars of sand, as the Senegal and the Nile; others like the Danube, rush with such force into the sea, that one can, for a certain space, distinguish the waters of the ri ver from those of the sf-a. The Mississippi ejects its writers with such force, that it relain.s the form cf a strong and rapid rive r even in the bosom of the Atlantic, traverses the American coast for upw ards of two thousand miles, and first mingles with the ocean near the western shores of Scotland. This prodigy is denominated i the Cuff Stream. I livers, however, sometimes experience ; the superior influence of the tes vhs ch repels the vf ters into their bed. Thus the Seine, forms at its mouth a 'bar of water." and the Garonne, unah Ie to dischaigc with sufficient rapidity, the waters which it accumulates in a kind of gulph between Bordeaux and its mouth, exhibits this aquatic moun tain, stopped by the flow of the tide, rolling backwards, inundating the bat iks and agitating vessels. The most sublime phenomenon of this kind is that of the giant of rivers, the Orellana, called the river of the Amaaons. Twice a day it pours its imprisoned waves iu the ocean. A liquid mount is thus raised to the height of one hundred and eighty fee t; it frequently meets the flowing tide of the sea, and the shock of these two bodies of waters is so dreadful that it makes the neighboring shores tremble. Fishermen and navigators fly from it in the utmost terror. After every full inoon, when the tides are highest, the river seems to redouble its power and tmergy; its waves and those of the ocean rush against each other like the onset of two mighty armies. The hanks are inundated with their foaming waves; the rocks drawn along like light peWhies, and borne as weapons of war almost upon the surface of the adverse tides, are compulsory participators in the conflict, by dashing against and fracturing each other. Loud noises, like the clamor of warring hosts, reecho from island to island. One would suppose the genius of the river and the god of the ocean were contending in battle for the empire of the waves. -The Indians call this phenomenon V rororca. Suihr at the Tlieatrc. At a sea port in the west of England, an itinerant company of players were to perform the Tempest; a jolly tar, who went to see the play, got into the boxes, when, at the moment of the shipwreck, the temporary gallery gave way. and the company tumbled into the pit; the Bai lor, who imagined it a part of the per formance, shouted and hallowed as ofjloud as his lungs would permit him. At his return from sea, being in Lon don, he observed the same play was to be performed at Orury-Lane; he went into the pit just as the ncene before mentioned commenced; he stamped with his loot, piped all hands, and look ing up to the gallery, called with a tremendous voice, "Take care, my hearties, you're all a-coming!" to the no small terror of the ladies in the one shilling gallery. A glide tale is na the waur to be twice told. Scotch

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