The Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1837-1867, 1839-08-27


There is charm in Music, which cevates
the soul above this subunary world, and while
it lasts renders the nearer supremacy happy
the real is lost in the idedl-imagination makes
world for itself, peopled with bright and beau
titul beings, all pure, all perfect In this world
OF ours there is not more attractive object than
n beautiful girl, seated before screen of hued
silk, and row of ivory fingers. over which her
own runs with graceful rapidly, producing
strains of divine harmony. Shakespeare says
that emusic is the food of love-" He says, truly
but he might have said more-it is often the
creator of love. Place a beautiful and accom-.
plshed girl be fore piano forte, and let her play
with taste and elegance a Strauss Waltz, oil
sing some of those char ming little ballads which
our English composers are so successful in max
ing, and we defy any reasonable mun TO resist
the temptation TO idolntry II he he not "stark
staring mad for love before the Syren has got
through hafl dozen values, or half that num-
her of sentimental melodies, then he is not fit to
live IN rational society, and should take up his
abode in caverns drear, or forests wild, and pass
his time with Mr. Van Amburg in training tigers,
and other anti-socal animals
'The deuce is in the moon for mischief" says
Byron.
c. There's not day,
The longest-not The twenty first Of June,
Sees half the business in a wicked way
On which three single hours Of moonshins
smile
Meaning, thereby, that more hearts lost in a
moonlight Tamble than ut any other time. But
Byron was but poor observer OF the world, IT
this were his real opinion--he could not have
noticed the effects of a Fete'a-tete in front of n
piano forte
There was Lady Lucy Dorlpn, one of the
sweetest little creatures that was ever destined
TO make happy the heart of man, seated at her
piano forte, touching the keys with such grace
and skill as to produce the most enhancing har-
mony; and there stood over her, with fixed
enamored gaze, the susceptible Vernon Mild
may. And while he sung, "I'll give thee all
can no more" the enamofed youth felt that
if she would give it to hin, he would be the
happiest fellow i'll the world. So we deceive
ourselves.
Vernon Mildmay was lieutenant OF the
grards-a younger brother-one of those ro-
mantle youths who rejoice in sollow complex
ions, and black curly hair, who love poetry and
all things poctical, whose hearts are full of love
hut whose purses are, unfortunately, in aw-
fully constructive state. OF all the msfortunes
in life, there is great as the misfortune of
being born a younger brother. An appearance
is to be kept up upon very slender means /; and
as younger brother cannot, dare not, think of
taking upon himself wife, what money he has
is spent in cambria observation-disclosures, per-
fumes, and Macassar.
Vernon Mildmay was deeply eualnored of the
Lady Lucy Dorillon /; but he was the youngest
Of seventeen children of the Honorable Leices-
ter Mildmay, himself the eleventh son of the
Earl of Trumpington and, therefore, like the
girl in the ballad, whose face was her fortune,
Vernon had little more than his commission to
live upon, and, of course. that would not pro-
vide knife and fork for two. But Vernon
Mildmay loved Who could look upon the
beautiful Lucy Dorlon an not love? And,
when seated at her piano, she upturned her So
raph face to his, and murmured, in tones of
sweetest music
"My heart and lutte all my store,
And those I'll give to thee -
Who will doub: that the susceptible youth felt
his heart eaping from his bosom, and that he
was strongly tempted to fall down upon his
knees before the delighted idol, and accept the
proffered gift ?
Her voice is lowering DER his soul-it fingers -
Der shadowing it with soft and lulling wings
The blood, and life within her ivory fingers,
Teach witchcraft to the instrumental strings,
His brain is wld--his breath comes quick
The blood is listening in his frame;
And thronging shadows, fast and thick,
Fall on his OVERLOOKING eyes
His heart is quivering like flame,
' As morning dew that in the sunbeam dies,
| He was dissolved in these enchanting ecslacies.
There was a pause in the music How
could the Lady Lucy proceed, when her hand
was clasped within that Of Vernon Midway and
her beautiful head was resting upon his bosom
They loved-ay, loved, with that pure and
l ~ ~.