Crime and Consequences [pp. 749-759]

SOUTHERN LITERARY MESSENGER.
749
been extended to the children of the savage. The morning light revealed the truth. A fan of eagles' feathers
was lying on Eva's pillow, and a bow and arrow were
placed near Eldred's couch-the sole traces of their Indian friends. A melancholy void was left in the little
group who had been wont to gather with cheerful faces
round the hearth; and many a sigh and heartfelt prayer
were breathed for the wanderers who came not again.
Thus passed away, like the shadows of evening, the
last scions of the Conistoga Indians.
UNIVERSAL SYMPATHY.
A WINTER'S NIGHT THOUGHT.
BY EDWIN SAUNDERS.
The night is cold, the wind is bleak,
The neartest road the shepherds seek
To gain their home, to share the smile
That shorttens, sweetens all their toil The smile of love, that well repays
The labor of the darkest days.
The driving snow comes down amain,
Across the field and down the lane;
The lucid stream that rolled along,
With rapid course and ceaseless soing,
And wantoned in the sunny ray,
Now hushed and still'd its course doth stay:
The flowers and herbs that graced its side
In nature's general death have died.
Along the hedge and in the grove
No more are heard, around, above,
The thousand songs, and chirps, and cries,
That thro' the leafy arches rise.
The birds are gone, the trees are bare,
And sadly mourns the very airTheir echo is no longer there.
Their fitful sheep-bell on the gale,
Like some lost spirit's dismal wail,
Now borne in fearful loudness near,
And now slow dying on the ear,
Coines with a witchery o'er the soul,
And seems like nature's funeral tollThe knell of beauty, life and grace,
And this her last sepulchral dress.
Is there a heart so hard, so cold,
Without emotion can behold
This general death, this quick decay
Of all that's beautiful and gay?
What, shall the happy woodland chlime
Be hushed, or seek a milder clime?
What, shall the garden and the grove
Be stripped of all that moved your love?
The yielding stream, whose glassy face
Gave back your foirm with tenfold grace,
Be dulled and stiffened, and your eye
Not know a tear, your heart a sigh?
It cannot be!-regrets must steal
O'er human souls, for we do feel.
Yes, there's a close-linked sympathyFor this we know our fate must be;
Though lord of nature, man's a part,
And every change speaks to his heart;
sat spring shall come,
es fiom the tombscend and stand,
d round the land;
and joy, and bliss,
I's loveliness.
ought I love,)
ts fi-om above.
, and they stoop
mortals hope.
r, they sustain
when worn with pain,
t with sorrow riven
f love and heaven.
now man soon shall rise
he skies,
f as spirits may
the way,
im from the earth
lorious birth.
pathy between
and world within,
Atth etic band
hat happy land.
London, January 1836.
CRIME AND CONSEQUENCE.
Feons fraudum et maleficiorum.
'Tis the fountain of cozenase and villainy.
.dnatovny of Melancholy.
There resided, many years ago, in a small town in
one of the West India islands, an individual known by
the name of Waring, whose singular habits attracted
much attention, and procured for him no small degree
of notoriety. HIe was apparently between sixty and
seventy years of age, tall and thin, but well formed;
and the few locks of hair that time had spared, were as
white as snow, and strangely contrasted with the bushy
jet-black brows beneath which the large eyes yet shone
with the lustre of youthl, and told of passions which
had once been stormy, if they were even now at rest.
TI'he upper part of his face indicated intellect and darinrg, but there was a degree of feebleness about the
lips; and the smile, which sometimes curled them, spoke
of any thing but joy. He lived in almost total seclusion,
avoiding all intercourse which was not absolutely necessary, and entirely confitinmg himself to his own humible residence. In the front part of his house he kept a small
retail shop, and there he w as to be foutid firom early dawn
to dark; and for many years he had pursued this avocation, without ever attempting toincrease his business, or
holding communion with the people abotut him, save in
the way of trade. Those of whom he purchased his
goods wvere in the habit of calling on liiiii to offier their
wnares, for lie was a good custoimer-, iggling, it is true,
about the price, and standilg out fIdr the last tarthing,
but always paying in ready money, aind ever exhibiting the most scrupulous honesty. In his small way lhis
trade was extensive, for curiosity induced many fi-om
the ileighborinig couintry to call upon him; and in the
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