Puslapio vaizdai

were seen wringing their hands, beating their heads and breasts, and those that were in safety, seemed to suffer greater torments than those who were enveloped in flames. The bells tolled. Almost the whole town rushed to the fatal spot.

So sudden was this desolation that it must be difficult, if not impossible, to ascertain its real origin. That it must have caught to the scenery from some light behind is not to be questioned; but whether it arose from carelessness or unavoidable accident, it remains for the committee, who have been appointed by the Richmond council, to determine. We hope this melancholy event will place all managers on their guard. Every article of the theatre was consumed; as well as the dwelling house next to it. But what is wealth compared with the valuable lives which have gone forever! Youth and beauty and old age and genius overwhelmed in one promiscuous ruin-a city shrouded in wo-heads of families extinguished for ever-a chasm in many and many a house that ean never be filled up!

It is scarcely possible to imagine any thing more awful than the suspense with which the friends of those who were missing must have awaited their return during the night, or more distracting than their horror on finding that all traces of them were destroyed; and nothing remained of the gay, the noble, and the accomplished, but a rude and shapeless heap of bones. It was by counting the skulls that the number of sufferers was first ascertained.*

The committee appointed to ascertain the names of those who fell beneath this blow, have handed in the following list. Some of the most estimable characters in the union will be recognised among them.

George W. Smith, governor of the state; Abraham B. Venable, president of the bank; Benjamin Botts and wife; Mrs. Gallego; Miss Conyers; Lieut. James Gibbon; Cyprian Marks (wife of Mordecai Marks); Margaret Copeland; Louisa Mayo (Mrs. Preston's daughter); Mrs. Patrick Gibson; Miss Nancy Green (daughter of Mr. Green, the performer); Sophia and Cecilia Trouin; Joseph Jacobs and Elizabeth, his daughter; Charlotte Raphael (daughter of Solomon Raphael); Adeline Bausman; Ann Craig (daughter of Mrs. Adam Craig); William Southgate (son of Wright Southgate); Arianna Hunter; Mary Whitlock; Julianna Harvey; Mrs. Heron; Mrs. Girardin and child; Mrs. Robert Greenhow; Mrs. Moss; Baruch Judah's child; Mrs. Leslie;-Edward Wanton, George Dixon, Thomas Frazier, all youths;-William Brown; Mrs. Patterson; John Welsh (a young Englishman, nephew to sir Arthur Pigott); Mrs. Tayloe Braxton; Mrs. Elizabeth Page; Mrs. Jerrod; James Waldron; Miss Elliott (from New Kent); Margaret Anderson; Sally

Friday, the 27th, was a day of dreariness and despair. Every eye was red with weeping and fixed upon the ground. Business was suspended; the banks and stores were closed; a law was passed prohibiting amusements of every kind for the term of four months. The citizens went into mourning for one month. The following Wednesday was set apart for a day of humiliation and prayer. It was resolved that a monument should be erected in memory of the dead; that the remains of those whose bodies were not recognised, or whose rings, bracelets, or necklaces, did not furnish some clue to their discovery, should be buried at the public cost in the pit of the theatre; and that a CHURCH should be built over them, subscriptions for which, to the amount of Two THOUSAND dollars, were instantly volunteered.

The history of this dreadful occurrence excited a sensation every where, which can only be exceeded by the sufferings of those who were on the spot.. At Washington balls and parties were postponed, amusements suspended, and the representatives of the United States immediately resolved to shroud themselves in mourning. In this city, one hundred Virginians, medical students at the university, passed a similar resolution; and set apart a day for religious exercises appropriate to the occasion.

Clay (daughter of the Hon. M. Clay); Lucy Gwathney; Mrs. Gerard; Mary Davis; Jane Wade; Mrs. William Cooke and daughter; Elizabeth Stevenson; Mrs. Convert and child; Betsey Griffin; Mrs. Thomas Wilson; Mrs. Bosher; Miss Maria Nelson; Miss Mary Page; Mrs. Laforest; Elvira Coutts; Mrs. Pickit; Miss Littlepage; Jean Baptiste Rezi; Thomas Lecroix; Mrs. John Bosher; Edward James Harvie; a carpenter by the name of Nuttal; one mulatto boy; four black servant women;-- -Seventy-one in all!!




SIR JOHN SINCLAIR in his statistical account of Scotland, tells us of a very extraordinary mode of courtship, and as curious a mode of terminating the nuptial rejoicings, which prevails in Ayrshire, in Scotland, in the neighbourhood of a place called Galston.

When a young man wishes to pay his addresses to his sweetheart, instead of going to her father's, and professing his passion, he goes to a public house; and, having let the landlady into the secret of his attachment, the object of his wishes is immediately sent for, who almost never refuses to come. She is entertained with ale and whiskey, or brandy; and the marriage is concluded on. The second day after the marriage, a creeling, as it is called, takes place. The young wedded pair, with their friends, assemble in a convenient spot. A small creel or basket is prepared for the occasion, into which they put some stones: The young men carry it alternately, and allow themselves to be caught by the maidens, who have a kiss when they succeed. After a great deal of innocent mirth and pleasantry, the creel falls at length to the young husband's share, who is obliged to carry it generally for a long time, none of the women having compassion upon him. At last, his fair mate kindly relieves him from his burthen; and her complaisance, in this particular, is considered as a proof of her satisfaction with the choice she has made. The creel goes round again; more merriment succeeds, and all the company dine together, and talk over the feats of the field.*

Perhaps the French phrase," Adieu paniers, vendanges sont faites," may allude to a similar custom.

A poem which at once charms the fancy and engages the heart so deeply as the following, it were superfluous to offer any thing more by way of preface than an earnest recommendation to our readers not to lose a word of it. If our information be correct, the author was an American. It has, however, by some means which, considering the value of the composition appear to us unaccounta ble, been as yet little known. We consider ourselves as enriching the treasures of American literature by giving it a permanent place of record.


WHERE, 'mid Italia's ever sunny lands;
Fast by the streams of Po, Ferrara stands,
At manhood's full extent, now just arriv'd,
In splendid leisure young Cornaro liv'd;
Of Hymen's couch the first, and best belov'd,
Each gift kind nature lent him, art improv'd.
He knew, and lov'd his city, yet would know,
What other cities different had to show;
Eager to gratify his stretching mind,
To one small realm too narrowly confin'd.
To tell his sire his wish, was to succeed;
The son but hinted, and the sire agreed:
And, as became him, full supplied he went,
And to Livonia first his journey bent;

On whose fair shore each distant nation meets,
And fills with various tongues her peopled streets,
Each object, there, his strict attention drew,
Much he observ'd;-but, still, found something new;
And sought it still, for, knowledge all his end,
Him, who could furnish that, he deem'd his friend.
Of graceful presence, and inviting mien,

He, in each place of full resort, was seen;
On the throng'd quay, or in the busy hall,
And, skill'd in tongues, seem'd countryman to all.
His lodgings, on a large quadrangle's side,
To him, still thinking, farther thought supply'd;
And, as each hour of passing day went by,
Some scene, worth note, still met his curious eye.
Yet one, among the rest, he oft had weigh'd,
And, oftenest seen, the stronger mark it made:
For the sad sigh, that keen misfortune drew,
Still to his breast an easy access knew.
3 I


As he, each morn, the rising sun beheld,
E'er yet the moving square with crowds was fill'd;
On one same spot, as still he look'd around,
One solitary wretch he always found:

A porter's garb declar'd his present yoke;
But his whole mien a birth superior spoke;

Sighs from his breast in spite of shame would risê,
And tears, repress'd, flow'd faster from his eyes,
Which with a knotted rope he wip'd away,
Sad emblem of his fortune's deep decay.

The youth, who, pitying, saw the frequent grief,
Thought pity blameful, carrying no relief;
And generously curious, sought to know,
In hopes to ease the stranger's heart-felt wo.
Cornaro call'd him from his wretched stand;
He came, and silent, waited his command,
Thinking some errand would a mite afford,
Just to support a being he abhorr'd.

But other business fill'd Cornaro's breast,
And his kind suit in tenderest words he prest.
Begg'd that he would his cause of grief impart
To one, who lov'd to soothe an aching heart,
And always thought, however low his sphere,
The man who felt affliction worth his care;
But here believ'd, the stroke of fickle fate

Was fall'n on him who'd known a better state.

"Then speak," said he, "nor let false shame conceal Whate'er, with truth, a sufferer may reveal;

And if my happier lot may ease thy woes,
Whate'er a stranger's ear may learn disclose."

The listening wretch each word with wonder heard,
Felt they were virtue's dictates, and was cheer'd;
Ventur'd to throw his slavish badge aside,
And, thus, with manly confidence reply'd.
"I was not always what I now appear,
But, truths, thy nobleness hath challeng’d—hear.
First-I'm a Moslem-yet, as here confin'd,
Must wish thee, as thy milder doctrines, kind:
O! love thy faith-but hate not me for mine,
Which, wert thou born a Turk, had still been thine.
"Next, know, e'er sunk to this most abject state,
Smyrna once saw me happy, though not great;
By merchandize with sumptuous affluence blest,
And sweet content, which great ones seldom taste.
But oh! to have been blest, brings no relief;
It adds a stronger, keener pang to grief.-

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