Literary cadet, and Saturday evening bulletin. [volume] (Providence, R.I.) 1826-1827, 1826-12-02

There are many men, whose minds are
as firm as the oak of the forest, and bear,
unmoved, the severest storms of Heaven,
live and thrive without needing the sup
port and friendship of their fellow men.---
And others, too, like the simple flower Of
the garden, and with sensibiIity as fine,
they wither at the slightest touch of sor-
row their hopes and happiness fade at
the most trlfing wind, apd are blasted with
the least buffet of fortune. These, it
seems, were destined to be the unhappy,
among the giddy throng of mankind
Those, whose every thought and action is,
as it we've, under the influence of fancy's
sunbeam. They are cast upon this world
with all the extreme feeling of heart
open to the charms that busy and enthu-
siastic Imagination can fancfully create,
and would make the world fairy palace Of
constant virtue and happiness, placing un-
bounded admiration and love on the being
they would dress in all the charms that
await the fancy Of romantic mind For
these the thorns Of liie's garden are thckly
spread, and il is almost certain that they
early fall the victims Of disappointment or
deceit, unfaithful or unrequited love.
How unlike TO those are the other part
of mankind, whose earliest wish of child
hood and latest of declining age, is but the
desire of aggrandisement and wealth.
And these, though most unamiable, are
still the most happy.
was led to these reflections one NOR
ming as l had strolled from the inn, in the
village Of, along the banks OF the RI
yer, and was not u little surprised, when
arriving at rather a romantic spot, to a see
neat and simple column of white marble
1t was surrounded by paling, and over
hung by willow tree the only engraving
upon it was Edwin" My first conjecture
afterwards proved true, it was the monu-
ment over the grave of unhappy suicide.
1t was a melancholy and retired place,
and l almost unconsciously pitied the sor-
rows of whoever it might be
was not long in learning his tale for,
as my host afterwards told me, every
child in the village could tell it, Edwin
was one of those whom the world could not
but make unhappy with the liveliest fancy
he combined the most tender sensibiity.
lie neither thought of, nor cared for
worldly grandeur while every emotion was
admiration, love, or pity Still ne was UNI
happy. A virtuous bosom is not over the
certainty of happiness, as a child of fancy
is like an April flower we know not how
soon the rough wind of fortune may blight
it, or the rude hand of chance pluck il
from the stem; we only know it cannot live
long.
At the age Of eighteen, he placed his af-
fections, with all the warm and ideal
thoughts of unprecedented and perfect
happiness, on young girl nearly his own
age and fortune. Lovely enough in her
person to gain his most ardent and roman
tic affections, and sufficiently deceitlul to
make him think it was as warmly returned.
Amy Summers had promised in few
weeks to become the bride of Edwin, when
gentleman who lived in the village, and
was about to remove to the dissipated city
Of, prevailed on her to elope with him.
Ere the sun set that day, Edwin was ma
MAC; and the moon, as it rose, cast her
pale light on his corpse, weltering in his
own blood, shed by his own hand.
L