Literary cadet and Rhode-Island statesman. [volume] (Providence, R.I.) 1827-1829, 1827-06-30


Britain, ii perchance you see yon giori-
Gus Iuminary rise above your northern
hills, say, will you remember Rosline
will one thought be herei'
One thought'" SAID Stcinford, re-
proachfully; " will not this spot engross
alll My daily fancies-my nightly
dreams-aIl, all i'll be. of thee. lou
wrong me; by my life, you wrong me,
RosIine."
Saint Agnes grant l may" she re-
turned, but my nurse, in days of old,
bid me beware of English love; she used
to say, the climate Of the south fostered
the passion Of the Italians; and that
when the sky was over cloudless, the
heart would be ever tickle. You must
think me silly; but when a child, these
words sank deep into my breast. Now
to rest, Henry-I will prepare your re-
past before you leave me"-and she
bent her head to hide the warm tears,
which fell rapidly.
There will be no rest this day for
me-" said Steinford; in an hour shall
be on my road; therefore, my farewell
must be brief"
Rosline, you will see me again at
Venice-then," he added, in fond
whisper, we part no more
But the separation did not appear to
affect the maiden sens,bly; she repeated
in eager tone, Can hour, dldst thou
say? Wilt thou promise me 20 remain
one hour longer hereP
"Surely, surely, Dearest" was the
reply; Z" promise you:-your father,
Rosline-I must seek him ere depart.
Once more, larewcli!"-and he clasped
her to his heart again and again-then
left her; no sigh, no cry Of agony burst
from the lips Of Rosline, the door closed
and he was gone.
The travels of enc in haste to regain
his native land, are generally void of
interest; so it was with Steinford's; his
Journey exhibited little variety, and he,
arrived at the castle of his father, in
safety, but too late. The last sigh of
his parent had been brealhed-the last
prayer for his welfare had been murmur-
ed-and the senseless form was laid in
its narrow bed, there to meet corrup-
ton.
The dreadful uncertainty, the feverish
impatience, Of him who endeavours to
hope the best, yet dread. to hear the
confirmation Of his fears, generally pro-
duccs intense grief, when the fatal truth
is known. Henry's sorrow was there.
fore deep, though unavailing, and he
asked if happiness would ever more be-
long t. him: his heart at that moment
answered, No.-But what does not time
accomplish
The keen edge Of aflliction is destroy
ed; the moistened eye is dried, and the
wounded heart is healed. Thus, then,
it is through life. When the bosom is
surcharged with misery, il is then obdu-
rate to the voice of comfort; let few
months pass, and he who had before
turned away, will listen with avidity.-
So it was with Steinford the young re-
cluse again mingled in society, and the
laugh of gaiety again played upon his
lips.
And where now was Rosline? Truly,
il must be said, if she was thought of,
it was casually If her devoted attach
ment was remembered, it was only as
pleasant dream-a delightful vision
from which the sleeper awoke to dread
realities.
But what had cNused this changer
What had turned Stcinford's affections
from one to whom he had sworn everast-
ing allegiance?-one, in whose breast
he would never, never be forgotten?-
The world had caused it. The voice Of
flattery had been poured in the ear of
the rich and handsome Steinford; the
eye of an English maiden had beamed
on him-and Rosline was forgotten.
1t is not that the heart Of man is un-
formed to centre its affections on one
object, and that one alone; but it is the
desire, the propensity, if may so term
it, Of lettering the affections of many
Of leading crowds in his chains; dealing
life or death, by smiles or frowns.
During this time the conscience of
Henry did not slumber- and, when it
reproached him, he would mingle in the
dissipations Of the city, and speed to the
haunts of the profigate. Ayoung Ital-
ian had constantly attended him, wheth-
er It was to the courtly feast, or the
noisy revel; though it was evident that
he was i'll at ease in Britain. Those
who regarded the evident melancholy
Of the boy, would fain have persuaded
Steinford to send Kim again to his ma
tive land: no feeling OF pity instigated
them; they liked not the presence of
|, the familiar" as lie was termed; at
their nightly orgies his scornful smile
told Of his contempt, and again his tear