Burlington free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1827-1865, 1852-03-19

Upon the conclusion Of MI Marsnal's
speech, M-ssrs Bell and Cabel followed i'll
lpport Of the BILL They advocated at some
,cngth the encouragement OF agriculture, ana
we're opposed 10 al monopoly OF the soil.
Mr. Fuller Of Maine then obtained the floor,
len on notion the House adjourned.
I5@ The following touching narrative is
taken from work recently re published in this
country, entitled "Men. and Women ofthcEigh-
teenth entury"-u book which, according to .
the n. Y. Literary Uorid, is brstling all over
with point, full Of life and character, profound
in criticism, and ferycd with eloquence -
GretryS Daughtcrs.-Grcry' daughters all |
died at the age of sixteen There is some /
thing strange IN their life and in their death, |
which strikes the dreamer and the poet THIS |!
sport of destiny, this freak of DEATH this ven
geance Of nature appears here invested with
all the charms of romance You will see.
Jenny had the pale sweet countenance Of
virgin. On seeing her, Greuze said one day, |
"if ever paint Purity shall paint Jenny
Make haste murmurcd Gretry. already a
prey to sad preseniments, 81 hen she is going
10 be married 7" said Greuze Gretry did not
arswer. Soon, however, seeking to blind her
s.f, he continued "She will be the staff ofmy
old age like Antgone, she will lead her faith
e.. to the sun at the decline Of life"
u-.D Jenny, looking more pale and depressed
t@.r ever. She was playing on the ha.psi-
chord, sweetly and slowly. AS she was play
NJ an air from Richard Cdur-de Lion in a
melancholy strain, the poor father tanCiad that
ne was listening to the music of angels. One
of her friends entered-"Well, Jenny. you are
roinc to night 10 the ball" YES, YES, to the
ball" answered poor Jenny, looking towards
heaven, and suddenly resumng "No, | shall
not 20, my dance is ended" Gretry pressed
his daughter to his heart "Jenny, are you
suiItrng;" at is over" said she.
She bent her head and died instantly, with
out a struggle! Poor Gretry asked if she was
asleep. She slept with the angels.
Lucille was contrast to Jenny; she was
beautiful girl, gay, enthusiastic, and frolicsomc
with all the caprlccs of such dlspostun.--
She was almost portrait of her father and
possessed, besides, the same heart and the
same mind. "Who knows" said poor Gretry,
but that her galety may save her" She was
unfortunately one Of those precocious gcnuscs
who devour their youth. At thirteen she had
composed an opera which was played every
where, lie .liaridge de .litonio. A journalist,
a friend Of Gretry, who one day found himself
in Lucllc's apartment without her being aware
Of it, 50 much was she engrossed with her harp,
has related the rage and madness which trans
ported her during her contests with inspiration
that was often rebellious. "She wept, she
sang, she struck the harp with incredible ener-
gy. She either did not see me, or took no no.
tlce of me- for my own part, wept with Joy
in beholdlng this little girl transported with SO
glorious zeal and so noble an enthusiasm for
music"
Lucille had learned to read music before she
knew her alphabet She had been so long lul-
led to sleep with Gretry's airs that at the age
when so many other young girls think only of
hoops and dolls, she had found sufficient music
in her soul for the whole of a charming opera
She was prodigy Had it not been for death
who came to seize her at sixteen like her sister
the greatest musician of the eighteenth century
would, perhaps. have been a woman. But the
twig, scarcely green, snapped at the moment
when the poor bird commenced her song
Gretry had Lucille married at the solicitation OF
his friends. "Nlarry her, marry her." they III
cessantly repeated; ''if Love has the start OF
Death, Lucille is safe" Lucille suffered her
self to be married with the resignation of an
angel, foreseeing that the marriage would moi
be OF long duration. She suffered herself to
be married to one of those artists of the worst
order, who have neither the religion Of art MOI
the fire Of genius. and who have still less hear,
for the heart is the home of genius The
poor Lucille saw at glance the desert to which
her family had eXlled her. She consoled her
self with harp and "A harpsichord but hel
husband, who had been brought up like slave
cruelty took delight, with towards venge-
ance, in making her feel all the chains of Hy-
men. She would have died, like JENNY on hel
fathers BOSOM amidst her loving family, after
having sung ner farewell song but thanks tC
this barbarous fellow, she died in his presence
that Is to say, alone. At the hour of her death
Bring me my harp I" said She raising herself
At / h., 1 l. -.