hid DCt5,'I fbll.

.1 . flats ddreas you ‘ methe.meaaal

1 have jam I herd‘ ‘ iflal

L IIISOII. yeufl knew that I love you, y, how devctadly, and bow htlsve. And

,,barmtl may I not k , whilas tear trick

will you not make me this Own

Imq 1| flild. ly father died erel -ling Iirlaise, Ieavin my mother with _. as auppmt h . y a luxuriously. ' I was a gay and happy girl; and my mother, who was naturally stern, could but same my wild spirit—uot wholly subdue it. Alfred Weotworth was the very type per- fectioo—tbe star of my existence. As children. played t ether: and. when heattai the la‘ of manli , and left us to travel on the Cb:.nt|nest,oh, how I sighed for those by-gone u, I

“He will meet with some ‘fair ladye' whom he will bring home as his bride," I said to myself again and again; and though I knew not why, the thought always on me pain. _

Th ears passed, and he returned improved in every way ; ut he was still the name to me, my own Alfred; and when be sued for my heart, need I say it was gladly yielded to his keeping!

it wee a glad end happy gathering to witness y bridal. It was a joyous, a c, a proud moment for me, when the “ men of od” pronounced a blessing upon our union. Congratulations were olered; for the wild and gay Louise Marshall was transformed into the silent and blushing Mrs. Wentworth. And him, my husband—methought I never saw him look so nobly beautiful. doated on him ! I could almost have worshipped him. I left my home, the home of y childhood, to reside in his suburban villa; but I was happy, for lie was with me. O , ow l iovs to linger o'er those blessed memories ! Alas! a cloud was mt-vcrtsg over me, but I knew it not. Strong in

love, no thought of sorrow shadowed the lies- ting hours. Well, our first child was born, and I hailed its appearance as a fresh harbinger of joy. With what interest did Idaily watch the ex- pending panels of that beautiful flower! ‘But it was a delicate and fra ile infant ; and, despite our most tender solicitu c, it drooped. God only knows how fervently I prayed, not for submission to hie Divine will—-oh no! but that she, cherished idol, my sweet Lilla, might live. Alaal they were unavailin . I new not that in my eutbiisiastic love fort gilt, Ihad forgotten the Giver, and his claims only knew my babe was dying, and I murmured at the dispensation. They placed fresh flowers in her grave—types of her own sin- lees life ; but a rosebud severed from the parent stem was cl d in one of those tiny hands. was my first al grief; but my husband was lef me, and to him I looked for comfort. I

Two‘ other children were added to our home circle; and, though the memory of the lost one left a sadness in our hearts, yet we were a happy amily. The cloud was about to burst upon my unprotected head, still I saw it not; and as I spent the long weary evenings anxiously awaiting his coming, and regretting the urgent, and impor- tant business that drew him from our fireside, I little knew how and where he spent his hours; not the slightest shadow of a doubt crossed my mind. 'I‘o me he was the same devoted husband as ofold-, and when I gazed into his eyes. those eyes so full of tenderness and love, and saw their harassed expressions, I looked forward with joy and hope to the time when he would be free from those pressing engagements.

I was alone; my children, deer little ones, were asleep locked in each other’s arms. Alfred had

rornised to be with me at eight o'clock ; but the

ands ointed to the hours twelve—one—two, and atil he came not. The Iime- ace ticked the moments and so persevcringly, and, oh ! so lonesomely, that it seemed as though he would never come. He did come--but how 7 Heavy steps sounded in the Hall ; a dim forebod- ing ol evil shadowed my heart; I tottcred to the door—-two men, whom I knew to his intimate friends, were hearing him to his own room, not a corpse, but a loathsome inebriate! How long a time intervened, I knew not; but on returning to my coneciouaness,l repaired to his roctu. here he lay-—couId it be my Alfred! Tears fell thick and fsst—tcara of shame, of humbled pride.

He rose in the morning with feelings of been- felt penitence, and earnestly resolved that the olfenoe should never be repeated. But the shame cfdiseovery was past: its dread no longer kept him within the bounds of propriety as it had once done. Of a social nature, and convivial habits, he could not resist the temptation of the glittering wine-cup, nor the pleading of frisnds—associntes, I should say. He fell, and holy angels wept over his ruined hopes. Night after night was the same heart-rending scene repeated, and Alfred Wentworth, the noble, the gifted Alfred Went- worth. was fast becoming a—shall I, can I, write it? o—my pen rcfusesl

At this juncture, my mother, whoml had not seen since my marriage, came to ay me a visit. Oh, how unwelcome! for I feared her knowledge of the truth. She name; she saw it; she knew

&

“ Louisa,” she said, “ you must take your children and return with me. The must never know the condition of their father. Besides, this constant anxiety is fast sinking your constitution ; and it is best you should aeaparate."

" Oh. mother," Ircpliod, “it is im cannot go; never will I leave my bus

" But the example to your children,‘

poasible—I 9!

u . ’she'urged; than assu g her tone--“ Never while I have life, shall my only child live with a drunken husband ”

In vain I excused him, in vain I pled for him, in vein were his romiecs of amendment; she was inexoraue. ame tee not. Aecustomed at all times to ield implicit obedience to her will, and I, myeel , seeing the necessity of a decisive step, I returned to the home I had voluntarily left, but with what different feelings! and if h w wretched, God kaowsl was not less so.

Two months passed. How I existed, 1 source- ly knew. I was sitting alone in my room, think- ing of the past, as it rose before me in vivid pic- tures. No word from him; my very brain scented en fire as] contemplated my situation. My mo- ther sutfered no communication between us; sh- was not cruel, but she allowed no telinrary srtf

ynient to cross what she deemed t path 0! guy. My love eestned stronger than ever. Oh how ardently I longed to see hits; but it was in

A letter was used is my hands bearings

my post-mar , and Idid-not recognise the

j,_ iug ; but the words of the saal—‘l I am not

without thee l"_-told the tale. it was

» for me that my motlfer had-left me-—weil that! wasahnte.-' It ran tliae. '

were dam tay wife; daral

by the loved title! Various

‘u h. to ehstaecmmunifir

w ea,_ a every attempt, ray t-

IIWIIIU tot unopened

,4 J , .At ".i".'.'£fl

1:04";

.i, . ._ . v

wnJm%flu%@3aE& ,yasmstems. Oeswtsb .

S‘

of ;and be eased iho‘.u.g'ht:’yeup.:f. bl: was (I.

me he he py. leak younottore- me wt& feelings of love or regret; that base to enjoyment, ablight tsh ioeaa. But when on again go forth tetaste the assures sf the worId think that I am alone—forsaken and uacared for; that though you had the _ erto save. you coldly allowed me to perish.‘ “why

Iwiah ontoremornbertaeatal! now not, ynct to analyse my feelin a. Ionly know that we are separated.——-Ilear, Dear Inulaa. how my pen lingers an the word ! Fare- well ; we may never meet again. I am about to return to toy now desolate home. Pity and for- give the wretc “ Al.:llID" . O I

I was l iug in m own room; the curtains were close y drawn ; wondered why! was there. I could hear my mother's voice; but its tones were so strange, so tretnulous-

"Don’t you think she will recover, doctor? Oh do not say I must lose my only child."

" Be calm my dear Madam!" he replied : " all excitement must be carefully avoided. The crisis is past; and when she awakens. it will be with returping health. Thai latter had nearly proved fatal ’ '

I comprehended it all now ; and, asl murmur- ed, “ Mother!” the fiood- ates of memory were opened. I will not dwell on the weeks of con- valescence that followed. nor how slowly they

0 O O I O

a .

P It was a lovely day in Spring. The birds were csrolling gaily. so everything seemed joyous and happy, as, with my children, I drove to my old home y emotions, as I ruaha up the steps, can be better imagined than described. All was silent; an indescribable gloom pervaded the house, and instinctively a feeling of horror came over me. With an almost bursting heart, roceeded tothe library. There sat Alfred with is face buried in his hands. Fee a moment he looked in astonishment; then, springing to his feet, be clasped me in his arms, as he said-

“ Louise my own. dear wife ! you have returned to bless run.”

We are happy now. The fireside circle has a lasting charm for him, and he has foresworn the “ poisonous bowl” that|had so nearly proved the ruin of us both. I sit by his side, and, as he im- prints a kiss on my brow, he murmurs “ Thank God, dear Loulsel you have saved your hus- band.”—Waverly Magazine.

THE SUNBEAM. DEW-DROP AND BOSE

A dew-drop hung trembling like a timid thin upon the soft velvet leaf of a rose. It sparkled and flushed, each time the breeze wooed the rose buds with myriads of brilliant hues, till it seemed as if a rainbow had been imprisoned within its crystal bosom, and was struggling to escape Now the rose beheld its beauty, and thought she had never seen so lovely a creature ; so she spoke to it gently, in a voice that seemed like the essence ofa summer win

“ Beautiful dew-drop! " said the rose, “ I love you. You are like the stars that I see looking down from heaven on me when the wind wakens me at night ; but I love you more than ldo them, you are near me, and they are far away. Come dwell with me ever, sweet gem of the morning, and to thee will I unlock all the frag rance of my bosom."

h rose as she spoke, unfolded her delicate leaves, until the dew-drop beheld the crimson deptlta of her heart, glowing with love and passion. Just then a sly sunbeam pceped otit from be- hind an embroidered cloud, and saw the dew-drop, which was quivering with emotion at the declara- tion of the rose.

" Heed not that foolish flower, sweet dew-drop!” cried the sunbeam; -‘ she would never love you as Be mine, and I will bear thee up amongst the liigheet stars of heaven, and when look at thee thou shalt outabine them all.”

he dew-drop was bewildered, and knew not what to say. It would gladly have reigned in the olden heavens, and been the queen of the stars, but it feared the fierce ardor of the sunbeam ; and than the rose kept whispering such sweet things to it with its money lips, that it could not help loving its gentle voice. So it thought a little, and than replied to the sunbeam thus—

‘ , golden sunbeam! who gazest at me with thins eyes of splendour; thou art far too great for me to ove t at would I,a poor, timid dew-drop, do, wedded to such magnificence as thine? At thy first embrace, I should melt away and vanish like the morning mist upon the hills.

ut the sweet roscl love dearly. Her kisses are laden with perfume, and from her bosom steels forth all the fragrance of love. 0 fond and beau- tiful flower! in thy rosy chalice I will dwell for ever and be happy !”

So saying, the dew-drop slid gently down into the glowing bosom of the rose, and nestled among her velvet leaves.

Sensible dew-drop! well didst thou know that it is not the love that dazzles mont which brings the greatest peace. The love of the sunbeam would have been fatal to thee. while that of the rose gave thee happiness and contentment. Love, like the akylark. though sometimes soaring to Heaven, still builds its nest upon the earth !— Escliange.

SHAVING BY MACHINERY QUEER INVENTION.

William Johnson, of North Shields, joiner, has invented a shaving-machine. This machine is of sin ular construction, and contains every qua ificution necessary for the process.—In appearance it is unlike an old-fashioned arm-chair. But the most unique feature in the whole ufl'air is the arrangement of the razor blades, which are fixed longitudinsll on cylinders, from three to six inches in ength, four on each cylinder, at an angle of sixty degrees, with fine camel-hair brushes between; for you are lathercd and shaved at one and the same time, the lather being slipped from the interior of the cylinders, which are low. it machine is ut in motion by the weight of the patient, tbs seat gradually giving way beneath, and sinking with him until he reaches the ground, when the operation is completed. scat, rising as soon as it is released from his weight is ready to commence again without any preparation. A musical box, of Mr. John- son's construction, and capable of perfor- ming a great variety of sire, is appended to the mac inc, and can be attached or de- tached according to the pleasure of the per- son undergoing the operation, so that you

a 9.

3’ 0

Experiments, (says the “Gateahead Ob- server," ) have been tried and found autis- factbry. _

[This invention will certainly remove the objection It _ those who wear long beards, salt rsstes to aving and time. All that the lppg beards, ave_ to do is to

_ III

it

may be altered to any tune you please! ‘I

kecs visiting England in I861: the hint was no doubt derived front a lock cutter Minion‘ self-walking and running chair‘.-— itltfic udittcricavs. '

Aertricist. Paooocrioit ‘or Diassoivn Powonn.—Some cousiderable- sensation has been produced in the scientific ctrclesof Paris, ‘b the announcement of the artifi- cinl pr uctiiou of diamond powder. M. Despreiz has made two communications to the Acndciitic des Sciences,_ upon carbon. In these he states that placing at the infe- rior pole of a voltnic battery, a cylinder of pure charcoal ( its purity being secured by preparing it from crystallized white sugar candy ) and at the superior pole a bundle of line platinum wires, so arranged that the charcoal was in the red portion of the elec- tric arc, and the lantinum in the violet- hc found the carbon volatilized, and collec- ted on the plnntinum wires inn changed state. In these experiments the current has been continued a month in activity and the powder collected on the wires has been found to be sufficiently hrtrd to polish rubies with great rapidity, and wheu- burnt it left -no residue. . Despreiz asks himself: Have I obtained crystals of_carbpn which I can separate and weigh, in which I can determine the index of refraction and the angle of polarization without doubt‘? No I have simply produced by the electric arc, and by weak voltuic currents, carbon crys- tallizcd black octolicdrons, in colorless and transluccnt,vvliich possess the hardness of the powder of the dininoud, and which disappear in combustion without any sensible residue. A similar result has been obtained by dc- composing a mixture of coloride of carbon and alchol, by weak gnlvnnic currents. he black powder deposited was found to possess equal hardness with that which was subliined and rubies were readily polished by it.

From the Paris Journal dcs Debuts. TRADE AND COMMERCE OF TURKEY. The Turkish States receive principally from England cotton goods, hardware. and ironrnon- gory ; from Trieste sugar; and from France, as from Austria and Germany, woollen and silk goods, furniture, millinery, and wines. In return, they export to these countries corn, timber. wool, hemp, and tallow. All the exchanges consist in the above named articles. England would evi- dently have to sufler more than any other country from a conflict in the east. Her commerce, which has been for some years past falling off with Rus- ' is on the contrary, considerably increasing with the Turkish Provinces; wit porto Constantinople alone she keeps up an annual movement of 500,000 tons of shipping;and in 1852, out of 0,220 sailing vessels which entered that port, 1.687 were English, 1,280 Austrian, and 236 French. In the Danubain ports of Galatz, in Moldavia, and Ibrail in Wallachia, England in 1't5l reckoned 228 vessels, Austria 06, and Frunce 70. As to the comniercisl value of the exchanges, England trades with 'l‘urkcy and the countries of the Danube for an annual sum of about l80,000,000. In 1850 she supplied them with 141,000,000 of metres of cottonade, or 61,000,000 francs worth. T he Eastern question is, therefore, as regards the United Kingdom, principally a Manchester question‘ country, (France) unfortnately, has not so brilliant a part, but its exchanges nevertheless emouiited in 1852 to 84,500,000. The relations of Austria by sea add to these figures a sum of 60,000,000, which the operations b the Danube may carry up to 118,000,000. his, therefore, for these three powers alone, and without speaking of the business they carry on with Odessa, inaltesa commercial movement of 382,000,000 francs, which added to the transactions effected through the medium of the Greek and Ionian ports, must amount in all to nearly 500, ,000l'rnncs, and which, already checked by the events of the last six or eight months, may be now completely stop- ped, as far as regards the relations with the Black Sea and the ports of the Danube. These relations have this year a particular interest for Western Europe. labouring as it is under a food crisis, for Wallachia and Moldavia, the important centres of agricultural production, are, with Servia and Bcsearabia, the principal sources of supply for the

aaszannm Gaznrrn.

Wednesday, January 4. 1853.

TIII ADDIIIS T0 HIIIII. MACGOWAN AND avsacnsit sscuines.

We hope to have made it rnaaifast, that the Con- stituency of which the above gentlemen are the members elect, having declared its opinion of their fitueeetc represent the district; no portion of that Constiiuency—w hethor composed of those who gave their votes for Messrs. Macgowan and .\I‘Eachen, or those who voted agalrtsttltsm, or a combination of the two—has n right to dictate in what mtinnsr

they shall exercise their vicerinl or representative functions; and in so doing, we have all along consi- dered that any Address or Retnonstrsnce emanating from either portion, contained the bone fide ex- pression of the sentiments of such ptfition, and that the Address or llemonstrance itself had emanated from the spontaneous feeling of the parties whose signatures appear to be attached to the Docutnent; and that nothing had been inserted, but what in strictly true, and the signatures themselves genuine. Now, the Address to Messrs. Macgowan and Mc- Eschen is deficient, we undertake to say. in every one of these particulars. In the first place, instead of being the sentiments of the Constituency, the whole is the production of Edward Wlielun, William Cooper and John Mclntosli; neillier of whotn, we believe, have even it qualification to vote in the District; but who have had the unparslelled audacity to get up, on false statements and pretences, what they have the itnpudonce to term Public Meet- ings of Electors, held in kitchens long after the time appointed and attended, with tlist powerful stimulant, technically called “white eye” otherwise American rum. Some of the scenes at whiclt, we are inforrtiod, were of the most ludicious character and would huve been worthy ofthe pencil of utlruickshunk ora ‘Phiz.’

But that is not the worst feature in the case though bad enough and sullicieiiily degrading. The most shameful means were,wo are well advised, resorted to to obtain signitures, whole pages of paper are signed in the same hand writing, and we are told. and have no reason to doubt the fact, that tlis menus ofvvliole fumi- lies have been inscribed though not one of them were entitled to vote. There is nothing easier in the world than writing down the name of McDonald, and it is a matter of little consequence whether Donald John or Angus he prefixed, as no man cun tell who the name is intended for, unless the suuhriqnet which usually attached to the natne is added; and the same may he said of McPhee and Mclnnis. There is also, nothing easier in the world, than getting eignatures to pnpers, when the parties who get them up, are un- scrupulous nicr-. who stick at no kind of deception,

nd who hesitate not to give the moat solemn assu- rances of the truth of their assertions, men with whom the lie iea matter of daily occurrence, and perjury familiar. Mr. Macgowuti and Mr. M‘Eschcn are both well aware of this, and they have hitherto, we find from \Vlielan'a Gazette, treated the Address or Remonstrance, not with contempt, but with that compassionate silence, which is the best answer they can render it. The absurdity ofthe request, that they should resign their aeats—e thing, by the way, they could not do, until they had taken tbem—is too apparent on the face of it, to requires serious answer. The Address itself, is prernnture; it would have been time enough when Messrs. M‘Enclisn und Mncgovvan had done something sullicienlly decisive in their places, in thwl-louse, to have called it forth. 'I‘base gentlemen huve tint now to learn, that there is but one Dcpurtincntal Otlicer in the the House, the Colonial Secretary, and that there is no possibility of the Government getting another. Nor linve they now to be informed, thitt the present Administration has, in the most shameless mnnner, violated the Constitutional rule of Responsible Governuicnt, by nominating to a Seat in the Legislative Council, tin Officer, who had appealed toa Constituency. and bud been rejected. 'l'hst in fuel, the very people, themselves, who boast to huve introduced Depart- mental Govertirnent, have been instrumental in giving it its death blow, by their own unconstitutional practices, und shswing——in their own cnse at least- the utter itnpoasibility of corriplying with its requisi- tions. Under all these circumstances, we trust that users. Mucgowen and M‘Eacben will persevere in the silence they have hitherto maintained, as the