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A WEEKLY JOURNAL OF POLITICS, LITERATURE AND NEWS,

- ential

SS vor. VI.

CHARL

OTTETOWN, PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND, MONDAY, AUGUST 18, 1856.

MOON’S PHASES. — AUGUST, 1856.

First Quarter Sth day, 7h. 43m. evening. S.W. |

Full Moon 16th day, Lh. 15m. morning. Ss.

Last Quarter 22d day, 4h. 23m. evening. BK. |

New Moon 30th day, 6h. 34m. morning. E. Qe = ——s

Literature. |

LADY CLARA VERE DE VERE. BY TENNYSON.

Lady Clara Vere de Vere, Of me you shall not win renown ;

You thought to break a country heart For pastime, ere you went to town. |

At me you smiled, but unbeguiled 1 saw the snare, and I retired ;

The daughter of a hundred earls, You are not one to be desired. |

Lady Clara Vere de Vere,

I know you proud to bear your name ; | Your pride is yet no mate for mine,

Tvo proud to care from whence I came. Nor would | break for your sweet sake

A heart that dotes on truer charms, | A simple maiden in her flower

Is worth a hundred coat-of-arms.

Lady Clara Vere de Verg, Some meeker pupil you must find : For were you queen of all that is,

I could not stoop to such a mind. « You sought to prove how I coula love, And my disdain is my reply ;

| The lion on your old stone gates Is not more cold to you than I. Lady Clara Vere de Vere, You put strange memories in my head ; Not thrice your branching limes have blown,

| in the House of Lords. The following extract from a recent

| of managing the colonial affairs and foreign relations of the

with warmth, as he had already done, of the course taken by

| Lord Lyndhurst, he continued

with the University of Cambridge, Mr. Copley acquired such | tastes, and formed such friendships, as materially contribute | to the dignity and -happiness of human life—tastes which | have never forsaken him amidst the turmoil of public affairs, and attachments which; originating in a love of literature and science, have been the sources of enjoyment more pure and enduring than the unsteady, fleeting friendships which | spring from and expire with the political associations of] ambitious men.

Many an anecdote could be given of his dignified rencontres

work will furnish an illustration : —

A thrust, however, which could be dexterously parried by the cool self-possession of the Marquis of Lansdowne, fas fatal to the more ardent temperament of Viscount Melbourne. Lord Lyndhurst having, exactly twelve months before the skirmish to which we have now alluded, called the attention of the peers to the evil effects inseparable from the system of solitary confinement pursued at the Millbank penitenfiary, | the minister thought proper to characterize the statement as “calm and artful.” “I hope,” replied Lord Lyndhurst, accompanying the words, which fell from him in the blandest tones, with one of his most contemptuous smiles, “ that the statement [ made was calm; but L assure your lordship it was not artful * * * * ‘That the noble viscount, and the otner members of the government,” continued he, with a look of scorn, “ should be ignorant of the facts con- tained in the statement which I rade, only proves that they are as ignorant of their domestic duties as they are incapable

country.”

Lord Melbourne, stung by this remark, complained | Lord Lyndhurst in provoking a discussion on topics of which due notice had pot been given to the government. “I wish,” exclaimed he, in a paroxysm of rage, “ that the noble |

i. , } . * > it . | duke (Wellington) had been here ;” then, turning towards | “the noble duke would have |

of the lairds—who added to his seanty profits, as cultivator lady was by no means grand in her

of a few acres of land, by acting as carrier between Stirling ayg-Bank Row, was the lineal descendant of the Millers of Daisy Hope. t

Least of all to entertaim such useless knowledge was honest Andrew Miller-himself, a tall, upright figure, with his long white locks escaping from under his broad lowland bonnet, as he walked sedately by the side of his strong and sinnewy, bnt not over-fed horse “ The Bruce ;” no thought of grandeur or wealth ever entered his head. If he could manage, by all his toil, to leave his wee mitherless bairn provided for, that was all heever desired. And for this purpose he worked with all his heart. And Bessy was well worth working for. The prettiest blue-eyed, light-hearted lassie that ever was seen, it was the most charming sight in the world to see her

springing along on the Stirling foad to meet ber father on

‘his return; then to sce her litted into the cart and, seizing

the reins, drive the Bruce with a tiny willow wand in her hand, and encouraging the too ambitiously-named quadruped to more rapid exertion with promises of warm oatmeal for his supper, and clean straw for his bed. This was when she was eight or nine; but when two more years were past, there came into her eyes a more sedate and thoughtful expression such as poverty often imprints on even more youthful coun- tenances than Bessy’s; but the change gave only a deeper charm to her beauty, and even the father seemed to g-ow conscious that there was something about his little “ lassie” that made her different from “ither folk.” There was a grace in her walk which he saw nowher? else; and when she sat in the silent kitchen, and took his hand in hers after his work, and sang some old Scotch ballad with a voice so sweet and clear, old Andrew was very much astonished to find somehow that his:eyes had become filled with tears, though he had never been so happy in his life. But there was soon to be other people to share in the old man’s admira- tion. The upper floor was still fit for occupation, and after a little bargain-making a grand English lady of the naine of

Since I beheld young Lawrence dead. O your sweet eyes, your low replies ; A great enchantress you may be But there was that across his throat Which you had hardly cared t» see.

Lady Clara Vere de Vere,

When thus he met his mother’s view, She had the passions of her kind,

She spake some certain truths of you. Indeed, I heard one bitter word

That is searce fit for you to hear; Ijer manners had not the repose

Which stamps the caste of Vere de Vere.

Lady Clara Vere de Vere,

There stands a spectre in your hall : The guilt of blood is at your door,

You changed a wholesome heart to gall, You held your course without remorse,

To make him trust his modest worth, And, last, you fixed a vacant stare,

And slew him with your noble birth.

Trust me, Clara Vere de Vere, From yon blue heavens abvove us bent, The grand old gardener and his wife Smile at the claims of long descent. Howe’er it be, it seems to me, "Tis only noble to be g vod, Kind heerts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood.

I now you, Clara Vere de Vere,

You pine among your halls and towers, The languid light of your proud eyes

Is wearied of the rolling hours. In glofing health, with boundless wealth,

|Sooner cut his right hand off than have taken such a course} Mrs, Donnington was installed in the apartments, into which )as that taken by the noble and learned lord: the noble duke| some seanty furniture was put which Andrew brought in his | is a gentleman ; the noble duke is a man of honor.” Suddenly | cart from Stirling.

| cloud settled over the features of the insulted peer: the; When fairly distributed over the drawing room, and the compression of the lips, and the gleam of the eyes, revealed | little parlor, and the two bed rooms, it made the mission ap- the thunder which was sleeping within. A dead stillness! pear in the eyes of all the village the most sumptuous {reigned throughout the house. Lord Lyndhurst rose from | dwelling-place that ever was inhab.ted by a king. «All the this seat, and spoke ina calm, firm tone :— The noble! population flocked up to see.the rooms before the grand lady viscount says he wishes the noble duke had been here,/came. There was a table of rosewood, covered with a velvet | because the noble duke is a geytleman, and a man of honor. | cloth of the most rich and gorgeous manufacture ; embroidered | Phat observation, which is true of the noble duke, was applied! on the centre of ff, in gold thread, with a coat-of-arms re-

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iby the noble viscount in such a manner as to bear a different | presenting griffins with expanded wings, and other unknown | construction when applied to others: I beg an explanation.” | animals. ‘hen there were six chairs, also of rosewood, and Lord Melbourne would have shrunk from grappling with! also covered with velvet cushions, with the same embroidered his strong antagonist. ‘“ When I said that the noble duke,” | ornaments, Qn the mantle-piece was a beautiful clock, in [remarked he, “was a gentleman and a man of honor,| which Time, carved in marble, blew a trumpet to awaken | I did not say that anybody else was nota gentleman and a| Industry, which unfortunately had fallen asleep on the |man of honor.” This paltry subterfuge was of no avail.| pedestal; and over the middle of the room was spread a \* The words,” rejoined Lord Lyndhurst? “are capable of a| carpet, so soft, so thick, so beautiful in color and design, that particular construction: again | ask the noble viscount what) it was thought a shame to apply so magnificent a work to so |he_meant by them.” The premier not having risen to| degrading a use as to be trod upon; but rather, it was un- janswer the question, Lord Lyndhurst quitted his seat, and|/animousty agreed, that it should be hung upon the walls, | was in the act of leaving the house when Lord Brougham—/| carefully covered from dust with a linen cloth, and only the only man, probably, who might with safety venture to| opened out on extraordinary occasions, On tke hearth-stone ‘interfere, for was spread anotherarticle which excited still more admiration. “Tis dangerous when a baser nature comes It was a rug composed of the finest possible furs, all sewed Between the pass and {ell incensed points | and joined together so as to make a beautifully variegated Of mighty opposites ”— }pattern; and of so much value from its size and quality, | started to his feet, and entreated his friend to remain. The| that there could be no doubt that Leddy Donnington, as she ‘latter resumed hts seat. A few remarks then dropped from | W#s called, was closely © nuected with the roy family, or | Lord Brougham. Lord Lyndhurst once more rose, and with| Was even 4 cousin of the Governor of the Bank. And a 1a look and tone which could not be misinterpreted, demanded | stately lady she was when at last she made her appearance. lan explanation. “I must insist ou kuowing,” said he, “ from! With hig thin features,a remarkably erect figure, and a

j

. . . ' s¢ur thieh « re TArp.awed « Nrice | the noble viscount, whether he meant to convey an imputation | dignity of manner which at first over-awed and surprised the

But sickening of a vague disease, You know so ill to deal with time, You needs must pluy such pranks as these.

Clara, Clara Vere de Vere, If time be heavy on your hands, Are there no beggars at your gate, Nor any poor about your lands? ©! teach the orphan boy to read, Or teach the orphan girl to sew, Pray heaven for a human heart, And let the foolish yeoman go.

LORD LYNDHURST.

John Singleton Copley was born at Boston, in the United States of North America, on the 21st day of May, in the year 1772, and is now, of course, in the eighty-fourth year of his | age. His father, a native of that city, married Miss Clarke, | daughter of Richard Clarke, Esq.; and by that lady he had is- sue, the subject of this memoir, and three daughters. Mr. Copley, a painter by profession, subsequently settled in Eng- land, and attained to considerable reputation in his art. The education of his son may be regarded as having, about this | period, actually and systematically commenced. Having pre- viously passed through a course of careful elementary training he was entered a student at Trinity College, Cambridge ; and | throughout the whule of his academic career, he gave rich | promise of the distinction which awaited him in the more extended sphere of public life. In the year 1794, he was announced as Smith’s prizeman and second wrangler ; having |

largest house in the number, which bore evidence, in size and

tumbled down, and the main part of the house fallen into

on my character; whether he meant to say.that I am not a| man of honor.” Lord Melbourne’s better feelings had speedi- ly prevailed. He admitted that he had allowed himself to be carried away by passion. “Ido not recollect ’—such was his confession—“ what I said: I do not know what were the words I used in the excitement of the moment; but I distinctly state, that if I said anything in reference to the noble and learned lord, to the effuct that he had acted unlike a man of honosg, or in any way unbecoming a gentleman, I most fully retract the words.” Lord Lyndhurst immediately declared that he was satisfied,

DAISY HOPE. ~ Far away down in the north, whe the Forth, after flowing proudly past the castle of Stirling loses itself in the rich alluvial plain through which it winds in so many golden links to the sea, there was a small collection of cottages not large enough to aspire even to the dignity of a village, but which rejoiced in the collective nameof Bank Row. The

architecture, of having seen better days, was Daisy Hope, a long irregular building, of which the wings had gradually

disrepair; while roof and chimney in many places threatened immediate dissolution, and only the lower floor and a small portion of the one above could be occupied with safety. The lands, of which Daisy Hope had at one time been the manorial residence, had been worthy of the style and

thus taken a position in his college, which commanded the | pretension of the house. Far and wide their boundaries had respect of his teachers and his fellow students. He had | extended; rich Curse and Haugh had spread themselves already given striking indications of the vigor of his intellect, | along the river side; cattle were fed upon the Ochils and ts well as the extent and variety of his information, not tish caught in the lower links of Forth—-all on the property mérely in the higher branches of mathematical learning, but of the Millers of Daisy Hope. But the Millers of Daisy likewise in the fields of classical literature and general | Hope had been careless and extravagant for many generations. Knowledge. It has been said—although, perhaps, on wo When the Rebellion broke out in 1715, there was a foolish stronger authority than that of the wavering intentions and | Miller of Daisy Hope who left his comfortable quarters and dubious expressions which not unfrequently divide the | led his tenants to join the Pretender. The English govern- thoughts, and are supposed to indicate the tendencies, of a| ment took him prisoner, and sent in a bill for his maintenance young man at the close of his academic studies, and before|in Newgate, which cost him half his remaining land. In € commencement of the actual business of life—that, at thirty years afterwards the son and heir of this intelligent this period, the views of Mr. Copley were directed toward | gentleman, followed his father’s example, and paid more the church, as the chosen scene of his future exertions ; and | dear! y for the honor of commanding a regiment at the battle it cannot be doubted that with his masculine understanding, | of Falkirk; for he was executed on Tower Hill, and his scholastic attainments, and, above all, with a certain! estates confiscated to the Crown. But when many years’ ductility of nature, in adapting himself to surrounding where come and gone, there came to Daisy Hope an old man Gireumstances, enhaneed as all these advantages were by who was recognised by some of the neighbors as a son of the Many attractive personal qualities, he could scarcely have last of the Millers, and occupied a portion of the lands as to win episcopal honors, and wear a mitre. He had|tenant; a small portion; for though he gave it to be under- uently, through his connection with the university, an | stood he had tried to improve his fortunes by merchandise in penalty of gratifying a very early and very natural Holland, he was as poor as any of the peasantry around him. | ging to visit the continent in which his father had been | His family was brought up in accordance witi, their altered ta; and having on his return from North America taken circumstances; and some ten or twelve years 9go it was only degree of Master of Arts, he was in due time elected a the students of genealogy and inquirers after family arms tllow of his college. While he was thus clogely connected’ whe knew that the poor old man—the grandson of the last

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beholder, she seemed in fhe eyes of Andrew Miller the exact complement and appropriate conclusion to the furniture by which she was surrounded. The Queen of Sheba on her throne of gold was not more fittingly established then Leddy Donnington, with her feet on the ruy, and her elbow on the velvet cover of the table. As for Bessy, she opened her eyes, ard also her mouth, but said nothing. She was pre- sented to the great lady as her maid-oéall-work ; her tire- woman; her chambermaid; her dame de compagnie ; and stood before her in that fourfold capacity, holding tight by her father’s hand, who had ascended with her to the drawing room, and so blushed and so flustered, and stuttered and trembled at the awful apparition, that she derived no conso- lation even from the kind tone of voice in which the old lady spoke,—nor recovered her self-possession, till by little and little the unaccustomed fear departed, and she went nearer avd nearer, and looked into the eyes of her majestic mistress, and saw something in them which seemed to soften when their looks met ; and on parting the first night, it was scarcely with surprise—it certainly was with pleasure—that she felt the grand dame’s hand laid upon her head, and her lips ap- plied to her cheek.

“Oh, faither, faither !” said Bessy, rushing into the kitch- en, ‘she kens what it is to hae an orphan baira, for she has a faitherless laddie hersel.” ;

“ Puir woman!” said Andrew. ‘Tle'll hae dee’d most likely o’ the gout, for they say English great folks are terrible on the turtle and wine.” ae

“And only think, faither!” continued Bessy, “ when 1 cam’ awa’ she kissed me !”

Andrew looked at her as she said this, as if for a moment he feared her vanity had led her to boast untruly ; but when he saw how real her gratification was, he said nothing, but only locked at her with more pride and affection than ever. He could not have looked at her with more respect if she had been that moment presented with the Order of the Garter, with permission to wear the insignia on ber arm.

. The country side was alive with reports and coniectures about the past and present history of the Lady at Daisy Hope. Some thought she was perhaps a former Mistress of the Robes of Her Majesty the Queen, and had been con- demned to her magnuiticeut exile for interfering too much in political affairs. People who were lucky enough to see her

‘in a dress of solemn velvet, with a veil of richest lace ex-

tending its thick covering over her features, were the more confirmed in the belief in her previous dignity in the court,

‘as they took it for granted that the perquisites of the <flice

nen AE AE a es

a manner to hey. She

even amused herself by teaching her to read and write, and

in a short time derived full payment for her labor in the possession of the cleverist little reader and amanuensis that anybody could wish. How pleasant it was in the long win- ter evenings to see the little girl seated oa a footstool at the lodger’s fect, reading in a clear, child-like, but very intelligent voice, long pafes of Orme’s History of Hindostan, and Lives of Warren Hastings, and the sufferings of the English pris- oners in the Black Hole of Calcutta! But sometimes the night’s entertainment consisted of lighter and more interest- ing volumes than these. There were pocts, and novelists, and historians, all opening their stores to the quick apprehen- sion of Bessy Miller. And there was solid talk, too; for Mrs. Donnington had seen the world, though the greater part of her life had been spent in India; and, glad of an attentive listner, though in the person of one so young, she sat with her hand on the lassie’s head, and told her the ad- ventures of her life, the manners of the far Kast, the storms at sea she had encountered, the grand oriental cities she had visited, the gorgeous buildings of Delhi, and the sacred waters of Benares.

Then sometimes the new secretary tried her powers in writing letters to her patroness’s son; a lad, at this time of sixteen or seventeen, and just finishing his course at one of the great English schools, preparatory to his embarking in a profession. What the profession was to be, the anxious mother could not decide. . Meanwhile the time for his en- trance upon life drew near, and his letters in reply were full of ardent hope and strong anticipations of success. Once he came—but his visit was short, and his interviews with his mother so long, that Bessy was little heeded. So again she betook herself entirely to the company of her father, and illuminated him, at second-hand, with the wondrous knowledge she had picked.up in the last half year. It was only when he was on the eve of his departure that Walter Donnington took any notice of his mother’s friend. Te thanked her for her kindness, patted her on the head with the familiar con- descension of a very old gentleman toa very young child, and remarked for the first time the extraordinary beauty of cheek and eye asa blush, perhaps of shame, perhaps of grati- fication, seemed to suffuse them both. But boys of seventeen have an unbounded contempt for girls of eleven and a half; and Walter took a sorrowful leave of his mother, after a week’s stay, and departed from Daisy Hope almost without wishing Bessy Miller good-bye.

Again the confidence between the old lady and her pro- tegee began. A commission in the army had been offered to the son, and she had at last given her consent to him to ac- cept it. He wagtospend some months ata military academy, and then join the regiment, which was stationed in India, So all the interval was spent in expectation of the visit he was to pay to Daisy Hope before he left England. Indian story was more carefully studied than ever; the history of the wars of all times and nations were carefully read; and Bessy’s education was more fitted for a cadet at Sandhurst or Woolwich, than for the daughter of a poor. Scotch carrier in a broken-down farm house on the banks of the Fofth.

The expected visit ‘was to take place in September, and people passing the ruined gateway cf the Hope were surprised to see an approach toa little garden gradually making its appearance in front of the drawing room windows. Some- times even they were startled by the apparition of a tall lady dressed in black silk, and sustaining her stately form on a long gold headed cane, superintending the labors of Bessy Miller, in watering the flowers and tying up the roses. In these labors cld Andrew Miller joyfully assisted, and a painter no doubt could have made a very picturesque group of the lofty lady, and the blue-bonneted, grey-coated, peasant, watching the graceful motions of the little girl with almost equal affection. It formed a bond between the elders which made up for the differences of their condition; and Andrew could stand for hours en the lawn discoursing on Predestina- tion and Effectual Calling, as also on the prices of oatmeal, and the prospects of the Barley Harvest, with the greatest ease and fluency. Sometimes he was interrupted ia the middle of a disquisition on turnips, or free-will, [for Audrew was a great controversiali$t on all subjects, and settled points of divinity and routines of crops, with the same facility,] by the lady's saying to him—* But Mr. Miller, 1 have just been thinking again—what will beceme of Bessy if we both die 2?”

« Troth, my leddy, I dinna ken ; for except it be the Bruce —who has seen his best days ; mair by token, he'll be fifteen year auld next grass; and wadna fetch above ten pound at Hallow fair; [’m thinking she’i] hae nae great ehare o’ warld’s gear—but she’s a gude lassie, and a bonnie; and friends will aye be raised up for her; for isna there a promise that she'll never be forsaken, nor redueed to beg for bread? The cart also wadna fetch muckle, by reason one of the wheels is rather frail, and the left train needs constant mending; but what o’ that 2 Had Queen Esther’s father a horse half sea guide as the Bruce! or any sort 0’ cart ava’? and yet she clamb up on a golden seat, and fitted a new rope roun’ Haman’s thrapple—a proper end for a’ unbelieving Jews.”

Mrs. Donnington did not seem particularly encouraged by the example of Queen Exsther and Andrew’s animosity to the Hebrews, but resolved to do her best for the future fortunes of her favorite herself. But not much was inher power. For some days she was busy assorting her drawers, aud tying up various parcels, Then she wrote several letters, vith her own hand, directing them to various practitioners of the law in Bedford Row, and other precincts of Themis ; but when the answers came, they scemed to conyey no pleasant intelligence. She increased, however, in her kindness to Bessy, as if to make up for some involuntary wrong ; and, whether from disappointment and not being able to carry out some scheme in Bessy’s favor, or from some other cause, the lady became gradually unwell, her walks in the garden grew less frequent, her weakness increased, and when September came, and Walter arrived to say farewell, she was confined to her chair. His stay was to be limited toa fortnight. The excitement of his arrival, and the expectation of his departure, combined to increase her illness, so that, as Andrew Miller expressed it, “the end was unco’ near.” The young people were, as usual, blind to the symptoms of decay; and how great was their surprise, it is needless to say, when they were summoned, one evening, to the sufferer’s bed room, aud

included the royal dresses; and nothing less than a crowned | ushered by Andrew into what he called the chamber o’

head could haye worn such articles of apparel. Others, of a! the great King.”

still more suspicious disposition, believed she was one of the his majesty—and with a blessing on Walter, and with her deposed poteutates who at that time were perambulating| hand locked in Bessy Miller's the grand old lady died.

Europe ; but whether she was a Spanish princess, or one of | It is. strange that nobody was lucky enough to guess anything near,

the elder Beurbons, they could not exactly decide.

the truth. Bessy, to be sure, soon began to feel less awe ; for the grand

Qh ! there was such surmising, and guessing, and wonder- ing, within the next few days, as never had been heard of in Bank Row. Nay, they extended beyond Bank Row. were curious persons in Alloa and Stirling itself, who marvel- led at the incidents as they gradually evolved themselves

[EDITOR ax» PUBLISHER.

The great King was indeed there in all

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