American Republican and Baltimore daily clipper. [volume] (Baltimore, Md.) 1844-1846, 1845-06-12
[FromEhe New Y crk American Republican,
THE Pos SONED CUP.


In retired village of the romantic pGinci-
pality Of Wales, 0.ngland, there lived pair,
whose real names need not now mention it
will be sufficient for all purposes Of Distinction
if! cali them Frederic and Emma. 1t is true
that the scanty allowance of halftpay obliged
them to leave the gayer dwellings, Of men, for
those glens acc dells, and recesseS, where eco
Monty was to be met with; but It was small
denial to dwell! in their paradsal cottage, and
with each other. 1t was on recn-hill side,
whose head was plumed with oaks, and at
whose feet rushed the stream; slope and delve,
weed and tkicket, in rich variety, were there;
and Nature, that best Of all artists, had there
laid out ono of her loveest gardens.
The clergyman of the village, and enc or two
families, Termed all the society with which they
could mingle; but a happy home affords few in
elements to wander, and love is golden chain
which holds faster than iron bars and seldom
did they desire any recreation beyond a walk
or ride, and gambol with lovely boy,
whom Providence had awarded to cheer and
gladden. them in this retreat.
Edward was between four and FIVE years old;
his blue eyes, brImiul of gladuess-hs curly
f1axen locks and the mouth, which seemed
made fer a smile-realized the very beau ideal
of infantine beauty; and whether he ran among
z
ed the Welsh hills in the fresh morning-he
himself as rcshand as young-or lodged among
the trees, he seemed part Of the lovely land
scape-the little Genius of the scene.
For some purpose, Emms had occasion to
use lniment of medicinal benefit, but dead
ly poison, and often did Frederic reprove her
that this mixture was to be found continually
exposed, and in places by which an accident
might be occasoned; bat Emma saw no dan
ger. "FredeIic," she would say, "thou art as
fanciiul as man in a nervous feVer!"-"We!l,
but to oblige me, then, Emma, be little more
cautious" Emma promiscd; but as she was
not impressed with the danger, she soon forgot
her promise; and the temper of Frederic was
continually ruff1ed by findng the cause of his
anxiety unremoved
1t was morning in May; Frederic had ask
ed her to stroll with him through the fields, to
enjoy the delicious breathing Of the later
spring; Emma was preparing at her toilet, and
Edward, dressed ready forthe walk, was play
ing about the room in which she was dressing.
She heard him scream-Ghe turned--and in
one moment his flushed ccuntenance, his roll
ing and agonized eye, told the whole tale. He
fell writhing on the ground; Frederic heard,
and rushing up stairs, he saw his lovely babe
in the struggles of death, he turned to Emma,
wldered and overpowered, and she tainted
But he needed no werde--he saw, and the
dreadful truth rushed at once upon his mind
What could he do? Medicine was giVen-as-
,sistance was sent for--but in a few minutes
the child was corpse. FIXED and motionless,
he looked and trembed-he sank down upon
chair, and his eyes seemed rivetted upon the
breathless rum of his delight! Emma gradu-
ally recovered her senses: ntut as she aWoke,
the first objects which met her eye were her
husband and her dead child; and, with faint
cry, she sank again into insensibility. Frede-
ric hurried away from the room, threw HIM
self upon bed in an adjoining apartment,
and closed his eyes, but not for sleep. What
thoughts passed through his mnd!-what re-
flectOn upon happiness past, and happiness
lost!--what bitterness of pain for the lost! and,
Notwithstanding her sufferiRgs, bitterness of
anger towards her who had disregarded his re-
quests, SO often repeated! What chaos of
thoughts and passions ragged within him, agl-
tating him to violent trembling! Emma en-
tered the apartment pale and trembling, and
supported by madservant. ooh, Frederic"
said she; but Frederic was silent: Frederic,
will you not speak? Frederic, ! am the muir
derer of my child. do not know how to ask
you to fol- give me-yet speak to me!'' But
servant to leave them, and she threw herself
upon her knees by the bedside. "Frederic,"
said she, 'lf you knew what feel-if you can
pity-speak to me!' But he was silent. Had
he spoken, it would probably have been re-
proach; but such silence was w0rGe than re-
proach.
So passed the day, and SO passed the ensu-
ing night. In the morning, Emma left the
apartment from the necessity of domestic af-
fairs-but bow unable to discharge them! She
hurried past the door of the room where her
dead child was laid, as if some mysterious dread
lay on her: she gave to necessity all the time
which nothing short ofnecessity demanded, and
retired in misery and solitude to her ownapart-
ment. On the second day, she again catered
Frederic's room. He he'd scarcely moved, and
of refreshment he had taken nothing. She
took with her glass of wine. and crust OF
bread, and set it before him; her eyes, tul! OF
tears, were covered by her handkerchief, as II
unable to meet his. Frederic tasted the bread,
and, as if exhausted nature had received some
new stimulus, he burst into flood of grief; |
they were thu first tears he had shed: she hail |
ed it as a favorable symptom "Frederc,"
said she, shave you cast me off Can you new
err forgive mel" 81 forgive YOU" he replied
Gas hope to he forgiven The words fell
upon her heart like bolt of ice; he spoke of
forgiveness, indeed, but of cold forgiveness
only, and that from sense of duty, no eXcul- |
pa tion--no tenderness of returning love-but
heart deeply injured, aud coldly forgving.
The melancholy days passed away in more
seeming tranquility, yet nota look nor word