THE ALPINE HORN.* "When the last rays of the sun gild the summit of the Alps, the shepherd who inhabits the highest peak of the mountains, takes his horn, and cries, with a loud voice," praised be the Lord." As soon as the neighboring shepherds hear him, they leave their huts, and repeat these words. During the silence that succeeds, the shepherds bend their knees, and pray in the open air, and then retire to their huts to rest." "Tis evening on the Alpine height The sun hath sunk to rest; The mountains and the skies unite The rugged peak hath softness now- Will sometimes o'er the darkest brow These words at evening hour doth speak- And from the neighboring huts pour forth Old age and youth, and manly worth, And childhood fair and bland! And woman, with her spirit-brow And purity, is there "Praised be the Lord," all answer now, And kneel in silent prayer. "Praised be the Lord," the mountains ring The vallies chant the same; "Till heaven and earth are echoing The shepherd, from the eagle's nest, The Alpine Horn invites to prayer— ROSCREA. *The Alpine Horn is an instrument made of the cherry-tree, and, like a speaking trumpet, is used to convey sounds to a great distance. TWO EVENINGS. "Envy is a gadding passion, and walketh the streets, and doth not keep at home." Bacon. MRS. Windham was a lady, of no "particular age ;" she might have been forty "once upon a time;" when,-nobody was uncivil enough to conjecture. She was a pattern woman; one of those soft, sweet beings, whose sugared words melt on the tongue and are lost to the ear like the dying fall of distant music. Byron said, “Ali Pacha was the mildest man I ever knew;" yet, he made no more of cutting off human ears by the dozen, than of clipping paper, being immoderately fond of both these seemingly incongruous occupations. Although Mrs. Windham's voice, was thus, "soft low and gentle; an excellent thing in woman," the expression of her countenance did not correspond,-there was a cold, contemptuous expression lurking about the corners of her mouth, that in spite of a would-be smile, revealed the truth, that the fountain of sweetness was not the heart. Whoev er has been so unfortunate as to surprise, by a sudden entree, a matrimonial couple in fierce debate, and has heard the ineffable softness of their "my dears," and "my loves," while their looks would better become tigers, must know how shocking it is to have the countenance and the voice thus at variance. A Mrs. Windham might have had some pretensions to prettiness, in her youth; she was not an elegant woman. casual observer would have called her dignified ;-perhaps, modest; an almost impenetrable cloak of humility made her appear so; but never, never, did a heart beat with more lofty feeling,-every throb was a throb of pride, family pride,-pride of wealth. She was immensely rich-her family were distinguished-why might she not be proud? * "Where is Mrs. Kingsland this evening? I wonder she is not here," said Mrs. Abbot, addressing the lady who sat next her, in a large party, at Mrs. Windham's. "I don't know indeed," was the reply; "I am heartily glad, however; you know, she is a monstrous monopolizer; the gentlemen somehow, think they must talk to her, and she quite despises ladies' conversation." "I suspect she was not invited," continued Mrs. Abbot, lowering her voice, "she is guilty of being younger, prettier, and more intelligent than some other ladies—unpardonable faults!" "Nonsense!-Mrs. W. at least, is too rich and too distinguished to envy poor Mrs. Kingsland." Unfortunately, this conversation reached the ears and wonderfully excited the curiosity of Mr. Charles Cuthbert. He was a gentleman of talents, education, wealth and fashion, who had lately returned from making the tour of Europe-moreover, he was a bachelor, not much past thirtyfive. Is it surprising then, that Miss Arabella Melon, the last mentioned speaker, a faded belle of thirty, who had patiently but unsuccessfully laid siege to scores of hearts-is it surprising, that she looked quite delighted, when the elegant, much-admired Cuthbert gallantly offered his arm and invited her to promenade around the rooms, now crowded to overflowing? With very little difficulty, Mr. Cuthbert succeeded in introducing the subject that had excited his curiosity—in answer to his inquiries, Miss Melon said "Mrs. Kingsland aims at every thing; she would be thought a wit; she thinks herself beautiful, and 'whoever should doubt her profound learning, would not be forgiven -entree nous, it is all pretension; yet, the gentlemen do not seem to perceive it; why she is such a favorite with them, we cannot discover. She absolutely fascinates them; bewitches young and old. Would you believe it, though a widow with three children, she has had within the last two years, more offers than any young lady in the country "She ought to be tried for witchcraft, immediately," said Cuthbert; "she is dangerous to the community; no doubt a jury of her own sex would find her guilty, and if you were the judge, Miss Melon, she would not come off without hanging or drowning." "Drowning would not answer," replied the fair lady, without perceiving the severity of the remark; "Froth always swims, and Mrs. Kingsland has enough to bear her up. She scribbles rhymes, I am told, from morning till night-then, she is so romantic, so sentimental, and in her dress and manners she apes the girl of fifteen,-how ridiculous !" Cuthbert soon found an opportunity to disengage himself from Miss Melon, or rather, made one, by leading her to a seat. He then joined Mrs. Windham, who was conversing with Judge Dayton, an eminent lawyer, and a man of uncommon discernment and knowledge of the world. "I have not seen our friend Mrs. Kingsland this evening," said the Judge to his hostess. "I do not visit Mrs. Kingsland," was the reply, in that gentle tone, ever at command, used indiscriminately for severest censure or unqualified approbation; "We were never on intimate terms," (continued Mrs. W. with a cold, contemptuous sneer, and a thrust-forward of the right shoulder, an expression of dislike peculiar to herself;) "where there are so many superior women, I am quite surprised that Judge Dayton should have thought of that lady. "I do not know her superior," quickly replied he; then recollecting himself, gallantly bowing, added, "excepting Madam The blank was readily filled up, and the lady conciliated; but she cast a wistful glance towards Cuthbert, that seemed to say, "I wish you had not heard this conversation." The dreams of the hitherto impenetrable Cuthbert were that night after the party, of a novel and singular character. He was gazing with delight at the Venus de Medici, and she suddenly changed to the Witch of Endor. He was chasing a Psyche, that constantly eluded his grasp, a creature more beautiful than the sculptured divinities of Canova; just as he was about to seize the winged thing, she became a frightful Medusa, and left in his hand a serpent, from her horrible head-she then pursued him over bogs and briar till he stumbled and-awoke. The next evening found Cuthbert in a brilliant circle at Professor M.'s. His conversational talents were of the highest order, and the intelligent bachelor's society was eagerly sought by the grave and the gay; the learned and fashionble. His long absence abroad had made him comparatively a stranger in the town of L. He happened to be seated next a lady who was entirely unknown to him; Pro fessor M. perceiving it, introduced him. He did not hear the name Miss Somebody-no matter, he entered into conversation. His fair neighbor listened with that intelligent attention that always gives pleasure; what was at first mere common-place chit-chat, soon became animated discourse. Cuthbert had never yielded to the power of female charms, yet he was a professed admirer of beauty, and even ranked as a connoisseur. As she talked with the lady, he thus enumerated the items-" Figure somewhat above the middle size; not too tall, I hate maypoles ;-fine falling shoulders; an arm that a sculptor might have chosen for a model; lovely hand; and a foot delicately small.” He could not scan the face so easily-travelling had not cured him of a certain natural diffidence, that bold, impudent men would have called mauvaise honte―that is to say, he had a decent share of modesty, and could not with an unblushing front stare a woman out of countenance. He knew that the lady had dark, penetrating eyes, flashing with intelligence and deep feeling; he did not look into them, but he felt their glances, as he looked above them and continued, mentally, "Dark hair, most tastefully arranged, simple and classical in the style; more of fashionable tournure, too, than any thing I have seen out of Paris-" Just then Judge Dayton walked up and addressed the pleasing unknown with much cordiality and at the same time with marked respectfulness of manner. He did not however, address her by name; Cuthbert began to regret extremely, that he had not heard it. "What an eye," again thought he, "dark, deep, thoughtful, at the same time full of vivacity." As she became deeply interested in conversation with her intelligent friend, the Judge, light seemed to play around every feature. "She is not handsome," continued Cuthbert, and she has therefore none of the airs of an acknowledged beauty, but she is a thousand times more interesting on that very account." Judge Dayton left them, and addressed some ladies who had just arrived, among whom was Mrs. Windham. The thought suddenly struck Cuthbert, that he should like to know what a lady who seemed, in many respects, superior to ladies generally, would say of Mrs. Kingsland, who was so much decried by others. Without farther consideration, he thus began, "Why is it that the women whom we most admire, are not particularly pleasing to their own sex ?" |