it evident that they are not quite laid on the had the superintendence of all. At length, shelf; and good-natured elderly gentlemen to his joy, an occasion presented itself for dance with children, or ladies who would him to revisit Ardentine. No one ever emsit neglected and alone, and such complai- barked as joyously as he: his heart in his sance is highly honourable to them with re-bosom bounded lighter than his bark upon spect to those who pride themselves on their the waves, and he steered through the blue superiority as dancers: the same feeling waters with a master hand. occurs in every other accomplishment, and is not blame-worthy, unless it be carried to excess. The ingredients necessary to make up a proper dancer are, a good figure, kind countenance, a knowledge of the science, well-bred manners, and attention to your partner. The effects of dancing differ, as I have already observed, with the time of life of the performer, mere anusement, a tender inclination, the wish to please and be pleas ed, or that politeness which performs an act contrary to inclination or convenience, merely to make another momentarily happy, and to pluck from their mind the thorn of care, and sooth a regret at being passed over and forgotten. When arrived in sight of that spot on earth, which was dearest to him, his thoughts dwelt among the days that were passed, and in imagination he lived over again the happy hours he had spent with his Helen. None but a lover knows the anxious hours a lover has-many fears flashed across his mind, even at the very time when a few moments would assure him of the reality. He gazed on every well-known mark of the shore; each one was identified with Helen, and every high peak of the hills reminded him of her, for there was her name engraven. Her cottage looked to his eye neater and more cheerful than all the others, and even the smoke from its chimney curled I have nothing more to add on this sub-more gracefully to heaven. It is a strange ject, except to say, that as Italy is the favoured soil for The concord of sweet sounds," eye with which a lover looks! Though he was cutting his way fleetly through the waters, he chided his tardy bark, for he looked on, and his heart was already within her so is her neighbour France the land of the dwelling. The last moments of a voyage, cheerful dance; and long may her children, to lovers, as to all, are ever the most tedileaving to the sullen Spaniard his jealousy ous. Helen saw the well-known vessel apand haughty spirit, tread care under their proach, and gazed fondly on it, till she desfeet, and spring joyfully on their happy soil. cried Donald's bonnet waving in the air: That every fair danseuse, whether of Britain, she kissed her hand to him, as token of reFrance, or of the warmer and more meri- cognisance, and now assured that he was dional countries, may find a vis-a-vis and a well, entered her cottage, that, unobserved partner to her mind, and that she may ulti-by the rude eyes of callous spectators, she In a few momately be engaged for life to one, is the might give him welcome. wish of their general admirer, although he ments more, Donald clasped her in his be the grave and WANDERING HERMIT. FOR THE arms. I need not tell all he said, nor how much he pressed her to name the bridal day: with a maiden's diffidence at length she fixed the happy one, and both looked forward to it, as the dawning of a new life-as the summit of NEW-YORK LITERARY GAZETTE. their earthly bliss. The preparations necessary for the nuptials of people in their station, are neither many, pompous, nor expensive. Donald's presence being required by Lord John, he could not wait to attend to these himself, but entrusted all to his bride and her parents; and as he could not prolong his visit, he set sail, and for a second time departed from all that was dear to him on earth: not however without assuring Helen he would return upon the BRIDAL EVE, that the ceremony might be performed on the appointed day early enough to give sufficient time to convey his bride to her new abode before its close. Time waits for none: the longest period comes round at last, though lovers seldom think so, till it is realized. At length the day preceding the nuptial one arrived, and was ushered in with dismal clouds and for smiling hope, with merry step danced storm: the waves of the sea lashed and before her imagination-but in a moment foamed about in wild rage, seemingly angry the grim faced demon of despair appeared, at the day. The blighted foliage bended be- and poured his poison on her peace of mind. neath the blast; but regardless of it, the bleak hills kept their heads erect. "Is this my BRIDAL EVE?" she sighed; "it is an angry one, but all will yet be well, yet would I give the world to have assurance of it." Midnight was now drawing near, still Helen surveyed the chaos without: so impenetrable was the darkness, that all seemed a void to her, save now and then, the phos What at such a time could daunt a lover's mind? Donald heeded neither wind nor wave; his wherry was "tight and yere," and he a skilful pilot, so with fearless leap, he bounded into his bark, and Towler, who never forsook his master, was in an instant by his side. The hardy and intrepid boat-phoric light of the waves was seen as they men gave the reefed sails to the gale, and they left the land, alas! with too high and sanguine hopes. Night was now near, and as the day waned, the wind blew more furiously, and raged in uncontrolled might, which before seemed held in awe by the god of day. The white spray dashed over the vessel, and every roll of the waves flashed with phosphoric light, and showed the dauntless voyagers the perilous cavities, between which they were boldly braving. rolled terribly about. Hope is the last thing that will leave this world, at least it is the last that forsakes the buman breast. Still Helen gazed, and still hoped, not that if Donald had embarked he could be safe, but that he had not ventured on the sea in such a storm: yet, when she thought he had never broken his word to her, nor to any else, her spirits sunk again, and her mind was gloomy as the night without. The thunder was heard far on the other shore, but gradually and gradually it apLet me now turn to Helen. This was an proached, till it rolled awfully over her anxious day to her: she saw how sullenly cottage, and echo answered from every the moon arose, and the omens which fore- peak: each flash of the red lightning showtold a stormy night. She could not allowed to Helen's feverish sight the appalling herself to fear for Donald's safety, for she knew his bark was good and he skilful; yet she wished a thousand times he were arrived. Her thoughts were so intensely fixed upon the morrow, it almost seemed to her she had anticipated the time, and that her bridal day was come. A thousand hopes of future weal, and a thousand fears of future scene. Another flash!-she saw a something on the loch, it looked like a spectre bark, and fleeted before her imagination, quick as a meteor-the scene closed, and left the time more dreadful than before! She thonght it was prophetic! Her heart beat, she gave one convulsive start, and her mind was filled with tortures. The parents sat on each side of the wo, pressed on her imagination-and her daughter: at times, their eyes would meet, hearth, scarcely in less agony than their mind was so filled with these thoughts, but in a moment would in mute anguish which maidens feel at such a time, but man fall: again, as if instinctively, both would cannot describe, that night had already ap- turn to Helen, and bitterly sigh to feel that proached-but Donald was not arrived. Still she did not fear for him, but again fer-hope was almost dead, and to view her the vently wished that she knew he were safe. Very image of despair, gazing so steadfastly "I know he is constant," she said: "he on the wild blank of the stormy elements. never deceived any one, and surely he never would deceive me; he is, and must be safe too-love with outstretched wings will guide his bark, and spirits which wait on virtue, will protect him in the hour of need." Now, on the threshold a light step was heard. Helen, darting up in the agony of unassured hope, cried "he is safe, he is come!" and ran to the door-ere she could lift the latch a pawing was heard, her heart almost failed; the moment she opened the Night had now set in: the wind blew door, faithful Towler rushed in, his shaggy louder, and the waves mounted higher. hair was drenched with the briny flood, and The moon and stars had all withdrawn, his large eyes fixed in his head, had a terrific shrouded in an eternity of clouds, and the look. The brave animal fell at Helen's rain fell in torrents, as if heaven were weep-feet almost exhausted, and uttered a fearful ing at the dreadful scene. With anxious groan. The parents, whom the first tone of mind and aching breast, Helen kept her joy had roused from their dream of terrors, watch at the window, against which the gazed on the dumb creature, without power heavy rain furiously poured, where she had either to speak or move-but the dog surplaced her lamp to be a beacon-light, to veyed each face alternately with such a which her lover might steer. She could look that spoke horrid imaginings. not think that any disaster had befallen him, [To be continued.] CORRESPONDENCE. WE cordially concur in the sentiments of our correspondent. Those who "act well New-York Literary Gazette. LORD BYRON. "The base multitude, day after day, week after their parts" on and off the stage are well week, month after month, year after year, got up bruworthy of esteem.-ED. SIR, tal falsehoods concerning his private life, and these they mixed up and blended with their narrow and confused conceptions of his poetical productions, till they imagined the real living, flesh-and-blood Byron, to be a monster, familiarly known to them in all his hideous propensities and practices. He was with all his faults a noble being."—Blackwood's Magazine, No. 98. To be an independent man in the present age, requires uncommon audacity of disposition. He who is "too fond of the right to pursue the expedient," must nerve his mind to bear censure, reproach, and obloquy from the throng whose sinuous course his own honourable and straight-forward conduct puts to shame. It is no longer safe to call things by their right names-hypocrisy is termed morality, cowardice is prudence, swindling is proper attention to one's interests, and roguery is talent; while truth is impertinence, sincerity is impudence, and a nice sense of honour is either ferocity or quixotism. WHY is it, that although individual worth may equal public celebrity, the dramatic performer with respect to private consideration, encounters the depressing association of prejudice and obloquy? From scenic representations are derived our highest and most innocent gratifications; from its influence the mind gathers instruction; the sensibilities become expanded; we are softened by virtuous emotions and roused by their more energetic impressions; and these sentiments which thus penetrate the spectator, may they not equally strengthen the moral education of the performer ? We know that he is not merely a handsome piece of mechanism-that to produce these effects, grace and beauty, with all their harmonious accompaniments, are alone inadequate that reciprocal dependence subThe personal character of Lord Byron sists between the noblest creations of genius was remarkable for its independence.-and the kindred conceptions of talent. To Circumstances combined to render him delineate the meaning of an author, beside proud; noble birth, wealth, and elevated an intimate acquaintance with human cha- genius, a heart naturally intrepid and inracter, intellect must be aided by arduous capable of meanness, necessarily form a study, universal knowledge, and profound proud character, and when brought in conresearch; and to depict the manners of re-tact with base and low-minded creatures, finement, are required the accomplishments they add haughtiness to pride. We believe and habit of polished society. Yet in the it is an oriental proverb, that "the arrow of successful concentration of every natural contempt will pierce the shell of the torand acquired endowment, imparting delight, toise❞—sluggishness, which neither ambiand formed to adorn the circle of social tion nor vanity can rouse to action, will be enjoyment, the actor is debarred from con- metamorphosed into activity, in revenge of genial sympathies, with a heart unfilled by scorn and disdain. Nothing is more intoleapplause, his sole resource those who hold rant, nothing is more unforgiving, than the an inferior situation, and who are of inferior revenge of a selfish and contemptible man faculties, or the humiliation of constrained against his superior who has dared to curl and partial, or selfish and degraded cordi- his lip at baseness and folly. That this was ality; and when to all these ills are added, one great cause of the personal malignity the inseparable disgusts, painful drudgery, which persecuted Lord Byron, there can be and laborious duties of his occupation, who no doubt; and when to this is added the but inexperienced youth, in this fatal selec-envy of the mean, the vile, and the worthless, tion of complicated evil and oppression, it is folly to hope that the character of even would incur the subjection of an arbitrary inequality, and in the denial of merited respectability, the refusal of that justice whose principle is extended to all? C. L. a saint could pass through their hands without abuse and aspersion. Lord Byron was no saint-he was a man compounded of good and evil, of noble virtues, of generous passions, and undoubtedly of great faults. He made no pretensions to that sublimated char- tions shall dissuade us; and be the conseacter" all passionless and pure," all refined quences what they may, we shall dare to go from the frailties of humanity, all indifferent on in his defence so long as one independent to earth and all attached to heaven, which the man is left to tell us that we have done rancorous and hypocritical laureate of Eng-well. land so modestly claims as his own. Byron Let Lord Byron be judged by his wriclaimed not such perfection-Byron was tings, and by the statements of responsionly high-minded, generous, manly, honorable persons, of gentlemen, and of men of ble and brave; but what were all these character, not by the corrupt breath of traits compared to the spotless purity of a anonymous scribblers, who would forge falseBowles, or the unearthly piety of a Southey? hoods for a dollar, and blaspheme for a pound. It is enough to sicken the heart with human nature, to see such men as this duumvirate held up as paragons of excellence, and then to turn to the grave of the slandered Byron, and mark the serpents that are crawling there, empoisoning the laurels that flourish above it, and rioting over the decay of a noble and magnanimous breast. By what foundation are the ten thousand scandals against Byron supported? Do they rest on the responsibility of honourable names, on the veracity of gentlemen? Do they even rest on the basis of probability? Where is there a statement of his vices which is avouched by a name of respectability? Whence have we in America derived our Away with such " censores morum" as Southey and Bowles, and their fellow-hounds that bark and howl in the path of genius, straining every nerve to be honoured by its enmity. Let the community awake to the knowledge that they have been insulted by false witnesses; that they have been taught to hate a noble and exalted man; that they have been imposed upon by misstatements and misrepresentations; and let them rise in their might, to appease the manes of Byron, and to prostrate in the dust the unparalleled slanderers from whose hatred even the sanctity of the shroud affords no asy lum. We have not room in this number for our strictures on the North American, No. 49. We shall not drop the subject until we have gone thoroughly over the ground. The New-York Literary Gazette. To authority for abusing him? Is it not from Away from my heart-thou'rt as worthless and vain As the meanest of insects that flutter in air; For the spots of thy shame and thy falsehood were We will not pretend to conceal our intense anxiety that the character of Lord Byron should be seen in its true light, and not handed down to posterity as a black spot on his fame. We shall not shrink from the unpopular effort to do him justice-no threats shall intimidate, and no selfish considera The woman who still in the day-dawn of youth Can hold out her hand for the kisses of all Whose heart is dishonour, whose tongue is untruth, I but deem thee unworthy a curse or a sigh, Like the crocodile, false-like the adder, ingrate; But I hold thee unworthy to merit my wrath Too feeble to harm, and too worthless to hate. Then away, unregretted, unhonour'd thy name- As I have beheld thee, and thou shalt be known; There are eyes beaming on me far brighter than thine PUBLIC AFFAIRS. We know the writer of the following article to be a man who never shrinks from the responsibility of his name on subjects of public interest, and whose zeal for the welfare of the republic began with the first spring of the revolution.-ED. If any modification of an onerous public debt can be proposed, which shall have for its object an increase of the public resources, and great saving of money to the community, the authorities before whom it may come, are bound by the strongest ties of moral and social obligation to consider the proposition. It appears on the face of the Report of the 15th May, 1821, exhibited by the Comptroller, that the whole of the debt of the corporation of this city amounted on that day to 1,102,200 Dollars. And that the sinking fund, as now arranged, amounts annually to about 37,000 Dollars. It is an ascertained fact (whatever the cause that contribute to the effect may be) that the period of redemption of all public funds in relation to the market rate of interest, constitute their minimum or maximum value. But it is not so generally understood, that the irredeemibility of a debt for a long period, bearing a high interest when the market rate of interest is low, may be productive of salutary financial operations. If the six per cent. stocks of the Corporation of the city of New-York, were funded on condition that they should not be redeemed under fifteen years, they would bear a premium of more than twenty per cent. in the market, instead of being at par or nearly so. The unequivocal result of funds instituted on periods of redemption long or short, or payable at pleasure, being fully shown by reference to the daily price of stocks, the inference is natural, that the debt of the Corporation of this city is not placed upon the best footing by the operation of its sinking fund, that it could be advantageously modified, and the creditor not injured in his property or rights. By looking over the market value of stocks for October 22nd, 1825, the Corporation sixes are quoted at an advance of 1 to 2 per cent., and the new canal sixes bearing a premium of 231. There is no other way of accounting for this great dissimilarity of in the value of similar annuities, but upon the principles already suggested; the former may be paid off any time at the option of the Corporation, and the latter not redeemable until the year 1840. The stability of the funds and resources on which both debts are established, cannot make any difference in their respective values, they are equally solid and equally guaranteed by good faith, the difference therefore, can only be in the mode of their institution. In the estimation of the undersigned, no obligation can be stronger or more binding upon the administrators of any corporate body pledged for a large debt, than that of assigning as near as possible, a definite period for its extinction, without impairing the rights and property of the creditor. The owners of real estate would be pleased with the arrangement, because they might distinctly see an end to their burthens; the renter would be equally pleased, because if the taxes were abated, he would reasonably calculate his rent to be proportionably diminished; the annuitant would have no cause to complain; by the plan he has a fair equivalent for his money, and the poor would have reason to rejoice that a Corporation possessing increasing resources, might confidently look forward to a period when it should be released from the gangrene of a heavy public debt, that they might participate more bountifully in the public contributions. With these prefatory remarks in deference to public opinion, the undersigned would beg leave to propose the following modification of the debt owing by the Corporation of the city of New-York: 1st. To separate the six per cent. stock from other description of debt. 2d. To show that this description of debt may be paid off within a limited time, without increasing the public burthens, or impairing the rights and interests of the creditor. 3d. The proper application of the sinking fund in relation to the six per cents., and every other species of debt due from the Corporation. The six per cent. stock of the Corporation, amounted on the 15th day of May, 1822, to Charged with an annual interest of Five per cents. of 1820 $44,538 The other description of debt consists of bonds at six per cent. Five per cents. of 1821 $742,300 45,000 155,000 159,900 359,900 |