Wilmington journal., 1870-07-01

Father De Soto had forgotten his mis-
sion to the daughter Of Ramon. Other
thoughts were rising an his mind for
memory was busy with train of events long
gone. He seemed one that felt mora than
ne expressed. Was his monastic nature
now softened Did the appeal of lose
phine awaken pleasant memories He
smiled when she told him 70 continue. and
as he continued his face assumed the ap-
pearance OF sunlit lake, rejecting, here
and there on its CLASSY surface. Summer
cloud.
He began thus the story Of the maid of
Frascati
On the mossy declivity of HILL situa-
ted in as charming spot and as pictu
rescue as any that adorns Italian scenery,
stands snug and quiet hamlet. It com
mands view of some Of the ruins of an
tiquity. Seen in the distance are the
crumbhng remains of Tusculum, full of
legendary tales. and of traditionary ''glory
circling round the soul" Here stood the
villa Of tho eloquent and philosophic
Cicero Every boy must have read his
60 Tnscnline Disputations,'
8 Unwssting, deathlese and sublime"
They we're written here, and hence their
title. Fincastle is the Phoenix of Tuscu-
lam, not unworthy representative
Hither the Italians flock every Summer to
drink in the draughts of pure cool air,
which floats around the hill, and inhale
the fragrance and health which hover
around it's brow. They are enchanted
with the beauties which everywhere meet
the view. The sunless glens, the spark
ling streamlets, the verdant glades, the
lofty hoary crags, the vineland, the mea-
dows, the orchards, and the beeohen
forests, the mountain slopes and gorges.
All seek, who can, the home of estt0atiOn,
the tempo di piHigqiatltra. On its summit
they can sit and listen to the carrOlling
birds glance around on the magic pano-
rama Of the Ca01pagaai di Romana, and
breathe and see another life. The tourist
Will be enravished with the scenery His
mind will carry him back to other scenes,
through history and romance, to ramble
over flowery meads, to join the thtong
hurryinG onward to visit the great Roman
orator, the foe Of CatOllne. He will look
IN silent awe into the stUdy Of the thHn-
erfnttta4 81 amt iuIy VIII pe Vl0ldIy de"
scribed by taking a walk through the
venerable ruins. In gazing upon the
squirting fountains, the bas-reliefs and
fresco paintings, the memory OF the cele-
hrated Domenichino will be brightened.-
His remains lie here. Belvedere will not
stand nnnoticed. The dilapidated walls
c1nld be metamorphosed into impreg-
nable butments and towers. The
strength, the grandeur. the glory and
greatness, eplendor and muniticence of
the buried past would rise up be-
fore you AS things that were not dead,
but sleepeth. Such indeed were my feel-
inga when frisking, almost thoughtlesS
urchin / scampered over those helds'
climbed that hill, and ran and rolled down
it's velvet sides to the great Joy. oftener to
the greater terror, of little sister Mary,
and of her whom was wont to call my
sweet sister Fanny. We would steal ont
in the morning when the dew was stud
ding each blade Of grass to divert ouH time
| till breakfast, playing, and reading the
tales Of those distant ages, In neIghbor-
ing vale. Mary and Fanny grew up t,00
| rel cherries on Me same stem. They were
| of the same age. Fanny was an adopted
sister. She was an orphan. Tins made
| her to me, and to all, doubly dear. Mary
and did everything to please her. She
was easily pleased. Our days, our plays,
were happy. We were the delight OF the
hillside home. Fannie was quietude per
sonitied. Mary was the opposite. l. helo
the medium. There was that among u
then which harmonized. loved Fannie
Two years rolled down the current Of time
in the holiest pleasures. My attachmen
increased till ] could stand it no longer
I remember the morning we'll L asket
| 90 nlynV a
ing near the Belvedere. Not soul bn
two was there.
"Fannie?"
Tears stole into her eyes. She locke
into mine. She OWNED my thonghte.
"No."
She had given her anawer. / shall neye
forget the glow of angelic fire in her pnr
face. 1t stole away my senses. l telt
was in the presence OF All Immortal. Fal
ing, / could have adored her. | was o
I holm qr0,7,d Hand in hand we wake
back to the cottage. We dared not loo
at.each other. Our hands trembled, bI
Z we held them linked. She spoke.
''To- morrow, my dear, dearest, broth'
r. i have never called YOn ought else, yC
| know will take leave Of yon, and 9
friends, and loved Frascati. my believe
home forever / will go forth to labor II
+ eternal riches, and to gain the love OF Ii
1EOu- Ills lOF0I anu ni5 ilChoSs bho tcOL
g of time cannot touch and degour as yol
u der t1eeting glory of worldly vanity ar
r greatness (She pointed TO the RUNS
Tnsculnm) . my brother, l love you, b
Ii with Heaven s love. / know yon are goo
| generous, noble. / know it is such as "
a the Lord wants in the harvest. F'arewe
IL brother, farewell !" She was gone.
Ii stood fixed TO the ground near the do
Z of 10y home L looked round. The Heav
II above was alone pure. Fannie was 60
to labor for Heaven. | would never sec L
y again save there. The garden OF LII
Il was in need Of stout laborors. The wee
10 of sin were poisoning there, and eve
e. seed of virtue. | turned away. L VOL
70 not enter. My guiding star was the ims
~ of Fannie. My book was the Bible
z salvation. / started to work for Jesus.
"a :" His death eclipsed the gayety OF I
- tione, and impoverished the public st,
10 of harmless pleasures. This eulogy of
1e johnson upon Garrick has been aptly