THE RICHMOND COUNTY MIRROR: A WEEKLY PAPER PRINTED ON STATEN ISLAND, DEVOTED TO SCIENCE, LITERATURE, & NEWS. THREE DOLLARS PER ANNUM. SELECT TALES. THE WEDDING SLIPPEPS. BY MISS RUSSELL MITFORD. NEW BRIGHTON, FEBRUARY 2, 1839. her charge. A servant she is, but one accustomed to the VOLUME 11I. NUMBER I. Another hoarse, deep cry of "s hoes! old shoes-shocs to buy-shoes to sell-old shoes!" gave to the agitated father the pause which his feelings required. His son was too much absorbed in astonishment and horror for speech; he could only listen in silent agony to a story which seemed to him rather like a frightful dream than a stern and waking reality. Mr. Morris continued: unfitted for her station, but those better and rarer ad- the poor half-starved wretch who is calling 'old shoes,' vantages which regard the cultivation of the mind and through the winter snow, are more flourishing than are the formation of the character; and Mr. Sumner's opin-mine. Without your aid I am a bankrupt!" ion of her has been proved sufficiently by his having, since the death of his excellent wife, and the marriage ONE of the shortest and dreariest days in January was of his eldest daughter, committed the direction of his drawing to a close. Snow had fallen some days previ-house and of his two younger daughters unreservedly to ously, and glared upon the roofs of the houses in the irregular and picturesque old town of Belford Regis, and lay mixed with ice, and trodden into a sort of a wintry dust upon the highway; snow, too, was visibly hanging in the gray and gloomy sky, waiting only for milder weather--for the hour when the mild south-west would steal upon the bleak north-east-to come down in a world of white, feathery flakes; and to cover the earth with its bright, level, uniform beauty. The streets, though not yet lighted, were almost deserted of carriages and passengers, except, indeed, the well-wrapt little boys and girls tripping rapidly from school, with cheeks almost as red as their red comforters, and the noisier and merrier troop of happy, ill-clad urchins who came frisking and shouting from the pond on the top of the hill, where they had been keeping the cold at bay by sliding and tumbling upon the ice, and pelting eac hother with snow balls; making, as it were, a playmate of the frost; and excepting careful servant maids, wending with cautious speed over the slippery pavement, laden with smoking dishes from the bake-houses; or hurrying pot-boys, or slower milk-men, rattling their jingling commodities up against the icy steps of the doors, or the iron railing of the areas. "She has no money," replied Mr. Morris, suspending for a moment his pen over the book in which he had apparently been assiduously engaged in making various entries during his son's harangue. "She has no money!" "You were too young when your blessed mother died to remember her distinctly; and your poor sisters, gentle and amiable as they were, inherited rather her delicacy of constitution than her vigor of mind. Far above me in birth, in education and in cultivation, she was left destitute at the age of seventeen by the sudden death of her father, a dignified clergyman; and I owed the blessing of her hand ciefly to her desire to procure for her twin brother a home and a protector. Before our marriage she made me promise to treat William Arnott as my own younger brother, as my own eldest son; to be "Then her taste and skill in female apparel. You to him as a friend, a guardian, a father; and of this solknow, sir, how often you have said that if my poor sis-emn promise she requested a renewal on her death bed. ters had lived, you would have added millinery and dress Heaven and you, my son, pardon me if I have kept it making to our business, and converted some part of our too faithfully! large premises up stairs into show rooms. How often I have heard you say that 'one branch of trade helped the other;' and that our opposite neighbor, Mr. Welsh, would not be able to keep his shop open against us if it were not for his wife's caps and bonnets. Now, Elizabeth's taste and Mr. Sumner's connexion-" bal recognition of our engagement, has often, after church In a word, it was at the close of a winter's day, that "She has no money, Edward, she has no money." the morning influx of customers having intermitted, the "Neither had she, sir, two years ago, when in conseshopmen and apprentices of Mr. Morris, the greatest quence of Master Arthur's venturing upon ice too weak haberdasher in Belford, had retired to warm their fin- to bear his weight, I had the happiness of being of use gers in their own apartment-preferring the bright fire to her and her charge. Mine is no love of yesterdayof the open grate to the smoky heat of the stove-after no concealed or clandestine attachment. We have met returning to their shelves-nicely folded up the nume-openly at the institution lectures; have walked together rous articles taken down to gratify the fastidiousness or on summer evenings. Mr. Sumner, without any verthe caprice of lady customers, (for men, to do them justice, seldom give this sort of trouble) leaving in the dusky range of show-rooms, rendered ten fold more gloomy by the waving drapery which darkened the windows and swayed to and fro in the twilight, only two individuals-ner of speaking of her and to her, have led me to think a respectable looking elderly man, who, mounted upon that you considered her as a daughter. You are too a high stool, was seated at a very business-looking railed keen an observer, too kind and faithful a father not to desk, employed in writing, by the light of a single taper, have seen the state of my affections, and I thought you in an equally business-like, tall, thick book, bound in too wise and too liberal to set a little paltry money in calf-skin; and a young man, particularly well looking competition with the happiness of a whole life, or to wish and gentlemanly, whose likeness to the former sufficient- me to break my plighted troth to one whom I so dearly ly marked their relationship, and who stood at his side, love-to one who loves me-to marry, I know not who, pretending to be occupied in arranging a drawer of rich for the sake of adding needless pelf to our already flousatin ribbons, which he was rolling and unrolling, and rishing fortunes. I had thought your only son was deadoing unconsciously his very best to spoil, in the eager-rer to you than money. But I was mistaken; you hold ness of his appeal to his father's feelings. "Yes, sir, it is but too true, and a thousand times has she urged the fact upon me-that poor Elizabeth is only a servant maid in the family of our good rector, Mr. Sumner. A servant she certainly is, but a most honest and trusty one. Mrs. Sumner was so struck by her intelligence and sweetness, above a dozen years ago, among the girls at the Green School, that she took her home to her own house, partly to attend and partly to play with her elder children. She shared their advantages of education--not indeed, the accomplishments which were my honor and my welfare at no higher price than this The pen dropped from his father's hand. "You are "You are mistaken, my dear son, not only in relation to my feelings, but my circumstances. The fortunes of Let me make short of this wretched matter. I placed him as clerk in a banking house in the city, where, as you know, he soon rose to be cashier. I and another friend of my family were his securities, and all seemed fair and prosperous. Three months ago he came to me in an agony of guilt and despair. He had been speculating in the share market. He had embezzled a large sum belonging to the firm, and unless it were replaced by a certain day, his liberty, his character, life—for never, he swore, would he survive the loss of reputation— were destroyed. Could I then hesitate? Even had I abandoned him to his fate, I was equally ruined, since the house would have come upon me and upon the friend who at my pressing instance had joined me as his bondsman, to indemnify them for their loss. The sum wasto a man in my station, enormous, exceeding by some thousands, the earnings of five and twenty years that I had passed in business. The deficiency was, however, raised for me within the stipulated time, by our friendly solicitor, Mr. Byrne, who happened to have, at the time, a client who was willing to lend the money upon my personal security, and this house, with the stock and the furniture. I gave him a bill of sale on all my effects; and was considering whether to break the matter to you, or to go upon credit, and leave the result to time, when Mr. Byrne made me, two days ago, a most unexpected overture from the friends of a young person with a portion of five thousand pounds, who, although informed of my difficulties, were yet willing to marry her to you, willing to pay off the debt, requiring nothing but a settlement of the rest of the money, and an arrangement, as to partnership, which I should have been too happy, under any circumstances, to enter into. I have never seen her I do not even know her name; but she is, they tell me; young, well-educated and amiable--a tho roughly good and amiable girl." "Oh, my father, do with me as you like!-But yet, Elizabeth, dear Elizabeth,-dear, dear Elizabeth!' "You would rather, then, be poor and happy with her whom you love. So be it, my dear som. Go to your Elizabeth. See if she is willing to share your poverty; from some uncurtained window that overhung the river. "O father! never, never!' interrupted Edward, with a sharp and sudden revulsion of fecling. "Even if I were so undutiful, so unnatural, she would not consent, I know she would not. Often and often has she said that she felt our marriage would never take place; that it never ought to take place; that your son, the son of the most respectable tradesman in Belford, ought not to be united to a poor girl from a charity school. And now that the union can only be accomplished by depriving you of your home, by sending you out in your old age as a hireling-oh, she would never hear of it-would never bear the thought!" "Go to Elizabeth," repeated Mr. Morris, in a smothered voice, pressing his son's hand between his own, with an energy that betokened the struggle of his feelings-"go and consult with your Elizabeth." And as the shopman and apprentices came flocking in, and the lighted gas gave a glittering brilliancy to the rich and gaily decorated shop, radiant with shawls and silks and ribbons of a hundred varied hues-and a group of customers, gay country ladies, who wished to choose an evening dress by candle light, appeared at the doorhe escaped into the street with an instinctive desire for solitude, and almost unconsciously took the road to St. Michael's Rectory. chael's church every Sunday morning and afternoon, as regular as yourself. Jew! 'Tis an extrordinary compliment you idle folks pay to that tramping race, that. whenever you meet a body who takes care of the main chance, and turns an honest penny you call him a Jew. Well, Master Edward, you'll see that you'll come to me for your wedding slippers." And so saying, Isaac shouldered his bag again, and left the path free. At another moment, Edward would have smiled at ing and the painter's eye, could not help stopping a mo- the old man's acute observation of the direction of his ment on the centre of the bridge, to contemplate so fine glances in church, and his preserving endeavor to gain an effect of chair oscuro, so striking and beautiful a pic-a customer founded on that observation; but his thoughts ture, composed almost without color-by the nice contrast of light and shade. While he stood admiring the scene, he was overtaken by the old man whom he had heard a short time previously, crying, "shoes! shoes!" under the window of his father's shop, and whom he had passed just before, while engaged in chaffering for some of his commodities wite an orange woman, whose barrow was stationed at the end of the bridge. This itinerant shoe merchant was, as I have said, well known to the inhabitants of Belford by the name of old Isaac; and from his name, his calling, his keenness at a bargain, as well as from his quick black eye, acquiline nose, and a greater proportion of beard than is usually suffered to adorn a Christian countenance, was generally reported to be a Jew. He was a spare old man, of the middle height, somewhat stooping, but with a picturesque and richly colored head, surmounted by an old slouched hat His patched and faded garments were well nigh hidden by two enormous bags, in which he carried the old shoes which he bought, and the new one, or soi disant new, for he was a great man at his avocation, and had the art to "gar auld shoon look maist as guid's the new "—which he sold. "Buy a pair of warm slippers, master, on this cold night!" quoth Isaac. "Wedding slippers, fine enough for a lord," on. 66 were too painfully divided between his father and his mistress-his duty and his love; and during his rapid walk to St. Michael's rectory, he could only resolve to be guided in all things by the judgment and feeling of Elizabeth. She received her lover with all the gentle self-possession-the calm and serious sweetness, which characterized her manner, and which had been partly, perhaps, the cause, partly the result of the confidence placedin her by Mr. Summer. His father had, to suit his purpose, forced himself to advert to her situation and her origin in his conversation with his son; but Edward felt proudly that there was no trace of the charity school or of the servant's hall in this lovely woman who stood before him with a simple and unaffected propriety-in a higher rank it would have been termed dignity-that would have beseemed a palace! His distress was immediately visito her, and her anxious inquiries served to introduce his history. "We must part, Edward; as to that there can be neither doubt nor question." said she, in a low, steady voice, whilst the tears trembled on the long fringes of her black eyes, and the rich color went and came on the finely turned cheeks and lips, which a sculptor would have been proud to model. "We must part. I have always known that it would be so-always felt, without suspecting or dreaming of this obstacle, that Mr. Morris "Nothing this evening," said Edward, would find an insuperable objection to receiving me in“Have 'em a bargain, master," persisted the man of to his family. I ought, perhaps, knowing that, to have the shoes. forbidden your visits. But I was encouraged in my at"I am not in want of any," rejoined Edward, moving tachment by one whom I was bound to obey, and by whose orders I have acted in this business; and my own feelings led me but too readily into the error. Oh! if it were only for ouurselves, this poverty would be nothing!-Young, active, accustomed to exertion, it would be delightful to labor with you and for you-delightful to feel there is no superiority on your side, except that of your respectable connextion, and your manly and vigorous character. But, your father—your kind and excellent father! to tear him from his home, to send him in his old age to serve as an hireling-he, so long accustomed to respect and consideration! to banish him from his friends, his neighbors, his native town! We must not think of it. The sacrifice must be made. And you will find your happiness, dear Edward-we shall find our happiness in having done our duty." Wedding shoes, then-wedding boots. Must buy somewhat," continued the vender, pertinaciously keep ing up with our friend's rapid steps, and thrusting before his eyes the articles which he named. "I tell you that I want neither wedding slippers nor wedding shoes, nor any of your commodities,” replied Edward with some ill-humor, endeavoring to escape from his pursuer, The lamps in the street shops were now burning, and showed, with a most striking effect of light and shade, the fantastic outline of the picturesque old town-the icicles hanging from the eaves, and the windows already covered with icy frost work. The pavement was again alive with passengers-men and women hurrying to the Post Office; sleighs and carriages gliding with a sort of dull, rumbling sound, along the snowy road; and a stage coach emptying itself of its freezing passengers at " Red Lion;" a man with periwinkles, and a woman with hot chestnuts, each so muffled, (the man in a frieze cloak, and the woman in a dread-nought coat, that) it would have puzzled an Edipus to decide betwixt the he and the she; one little girl lingering longingly in the wake of "Don't ye?" exclaimed Isaac, with a knowing twinthe periwinkles; two great boys burning their fingers inkle of his black eye. "Don't ye? Well then, buy for a bold attempt to filch the burning chestnuts-and other the wants to come. I've set my heart upon having a bit children rushing aimlessly along, shouting and bellow- of a deal with ye to night, and shan't mind bating a ing as if to scare the cold. Men were thumping their penny or two rather than balk my fancy. You shall feet upon the ground and buffeting their chests with their have 'em under prime cost," continued Isaac, coaxingarms to restore the circulation; women were chattering, ly; "you shall have 'em for next to nothing. Do you dogs barking, beggars begging, fiddlers scraping, bells have 'em? We must have a deal. You will see that ringing, knockers tat-tat'tatting;-in short, all the noi- you will be married sooner than you think of. Your ses of a wintry evening, in a country town, were in full time is coming. So you may as well buy the wedding activity. slippers at once. What do you bid for 'em. Make an offer. From the High Bridge, where the broad, bright river, with its double line of wharfs and houses, crowded with "Not a farthing, Jew. I am in haste. You need not people, its boats and its barges, forms so gay and pretty auntie the bag. You have nothing that I would take, if moving picture, so full of bustle and color, of light and you would give it to me. Let me pass on, I am not golife-from the High Bridge, the Rennet now showed ing to be married. I want nothing of you.". like a mirror, reflecting on its icy surface, with a peculiar "Don't be too sure of that, Master Edward Morris. broad and blueish shine, the arch of lamps surmounting You and I may come to a deal yet. Jew, Quotha! No the graceful, airy bridge, and the twinkling lights that more a Jew than yourself. If your eyes were not turnglanced here and there, from boat or barge or wharf, ored another way you might see me in the isle of St. Mi Affectionate son as Edward was, and determined as he had professed himself to abide by the decission of his mistress, he could not forbear from combatting this resolution. She listened to him with sweet and mournful attention, as if willing to hear all he had to say; but her determination was unshaken. She had just asked "Since we must part, dearest Edward, were it not wiser to shorten this pain?" when an odd looking little note was delivered to her. Elizabeth read the contents once, twice, thrice, and remained silent and perplexed, as if hardly comprehending the meaning. "It is very strange!" exclaimed she, thinking aloud, and forgetting that she was not alone, "very strange! What can he want at this hour!" "He!" exclaimed Edward, jealous (so strange a thing is a lover's heart) of her whom he was on the very point of resigning. "He!-what he? From whom comes that note?" fully-she lighted a wretched candle, led the way into the next apartment and endeavored, with a little damp straw aud a few dirty chips that had evidently been long trodden under foot in some carpenter's yard, to produce in a small rusty grate from which the brick work was "From one who must be apprised of this event." breaking away, something as nearly approaching to a 'Not surely, from Mr. Summer? No; from him it blaze as the state of the fire place and the nature of the cannot be. But from whom? Who can have the pow-fuel would allow. er so to absorb your attention at such a moment?" Elizabeth paused an instant, and then said, gently"come with me and you shall know. Although we are doomed to part, to meet no more, you must always be among the most valued, the most cherished of my friends. I cannot afford to lose your good opinion.— Come with me and you shall know all." She tied on her bonnet, wrapped herself in a large cloak and then passed through the rectory garden into the church-yard. The fine old Gothic building, with its gray cloisters, its graceful porch, its towers and its steeple, rose in sombre grandeur from the grave-yard, covered with snow, by which it was surrounded-the summit almost lost in the frosty mist of the air, so that the imagination added to the actual height; and gave a | cathedral-like grandeur to the edifice. A few yews and cypresses were clustered in one corner, and a row of stately elms, their limbs partially covered with snow that lay in long intersecting lines, defining the forms of the branches, led to an iron gate, which opened to a narrow lane, leading to one of the poorest and least populous suburbs of the town. Along this lane Elizabeth passed, sedulously attended by Edward. friends and kindred, mayhap it might go nigh to reform Alas, my dear father, you little know," began Elizabeth. "Alack and alack wench! No alacks for me, I do know all the story; ay, and a great deal besides, that neither of you know, wise as ye think yourselves. Come my good boy and girl, sit ye down here by the fire. Bess Edward, in the meanwhile, took a mournful survey of the wretched abode, contrasting as strongly with the appearance, the mind and the manners of the lovely woman who stood beside him, the beloved of his heart.The hearth and its assortments—the bit of old iron that served as a poker, the broken dust pan that officiated as a shovel, the pipkin upon two legs, and the lipless pint cup that did duty as kettle, pot and saucepan—this nig-looks as white as the snow on the house-top; and thou gard and beggarly type of the rugged and scanty plen- Master Edward are not much better. Sit down and ishing of the comfortless chamber. A joint stool, a rick- make yourself comfortable. I'll tell you all about it." ety table and two tumble-down chairs, one of them gar- And the old shoe merchant drew his two chairs to eithnished with a cushion, darned, patched and mended un- er side of his little fire, seated himself upon a stool in til mending was no longer possible, figured in the cen- the middle, flung on fresh fuel, breaking the sticks with tre of the uneven bricked floor; over the chimney was a withered hands, jand did the honors of his little apartmug without a handle, a teapot curtailed of its fair pro- ments with much hospitality. "Well, Master Morris, portions by the loss of half a spout, a tea-cup and saucer for all I cry old shoes about the streets, and my Bess, of different patterns, and two or three plates aud basins, (heaven bless her sweet face!) was brought up at a chaall more or less cracked, and repaired, not very artificial-rity school, it ain't altogether for the want of a bit of ly, with putty and white paint. In one corner was the money. Many a year have I been hoarding and hoardinmate's humble bed—a chaff mattrass, with one or two ing, to save her a portion; and I told her and Mr. Sumrugs of horse-cloth, much the worse for wear, in anoth-mer not to let out that she had a father, just for the pleaer the little pile of chips and rotten sticks from whence sure for the surprise like. So in the mean time comes the fuel now smoking rather than burning in the chim- the affair of Master Arnott. Ay, better cry old shoes ney, had been selected; and in a third, a dingy heap of than go gambling in shares. So I happen to have the money, waiting for a good security-nothing like turning an honest penny-just when Master Byrne was wanting it for your father. So I lets him have it. Here's the paper, that's what d'ye call it ?--the bill of sole. “This, Edward, is the abode of my father-a father And I offered him my girl with £5000 to her portion; whom, in spite of all that surrouuds us-I have good not letting out who she was. And here I've got a letter reason to love. Does not the sight of this misery serve from him to Master Byrne, saying as how 'twill break to reconcile you to the destiny that parts us? Such, at your heart to marry her; not thinking, mind, that she's least, is the effect that it ought to have-which it has on she. And I s'pose as how you are come to say that you I am not fit to belong to your family. I never won't have her, 'cause o' your father-eh? So she's would have cherished such a thought. Strange-that refused o' both hands-ch, Bess? Well! I love a good Mr. Sumner, knowing as he did, the whole truth, should father, and I love a good son; he'll be sure to make a have encouraged our attachment! Strange, most strange good husband. And if Bess don't make thee a good that till now, the name and existence of my father should wife, my lad, there's no faith in woman. So take her, have remained a secret! Well, my presumption is fitly and this bit of paper; that's four thousand pounds; and punished, and you will turn with a freer heart to one there's one thousand that I promised," continued he, gomore worthy to share your home and to possess your afing to one of his corner heaps, and taking a couple of fections." bank notes, out of an old shoe; "and another that I give, 'cause of these two refusals. A good father makes a good son, and a good son 'll make a good husband.— And I've heard to-day from a real Jew, who knows a great deal of what goes on on 'Change, that Master Arnott is likely to get his money back again. So now off wi' ye to Master Morris, and tell him the news. And, hark ye, my boy, don't forget to come back for the Wedding Slippers." Which last injunction he probably did not forget to fulfil. The old woman, satisfied with her labor, returned to her part of the dwelling. Elizabeth was the first to break the silence that succeeded her departure. "I ought to have told you before," said she in a low voice-" only he whom it most concerns forbade the dis-old shoes. closure--and Mr. Sumner, I hardly know why, coincicided in his desire-that although a charity girl, I am not, as you thought, an orphan. I have a father, a most fond and affectionate father, one whom I dearly love, and who dearly loves me. He is a poor but industrious man following a mean occupation; not so poor but that he makes me frequent presents, and is most kiud and generous to the widow in whose cottage he lives, and whom he mainly supports. Still I have always felt that he was not fit to be your father, uor to be connected so closely with a man so intelligent, so well educated, and so respectable in station as Mr. Morris. I always felt that something would prevent our union, aud so, alas! it has turned out." me. By this time the clouds had so far cleared away as to admit glimpses of a keen and frosty moon, which shed a cold, pale, desolate light upon every object; dwelling with tenfold desolation on a hovel, whose rugged thatch "Say not so, my Elizabeth! were it not for my paraand window stuffed with rags, as well as the broken-mount duty to my own most kind and excellent father, down state of the little gate, (ajar, perforce, since hanging by one hinge, it would neither shut nor open) that led into the narrow front court, betokened the most sordid poverty. To to this court Elizabeth passed: aud knocking with, it seemed, a forced resolution, at a low door, in little better condition than the gate which formed the outer barricade, was immediately admitted by an infirm old woman into a dark and dismal kitchen. "I look for your father every miuute, Miss Betscy," quoth the tottering crone, "for 'tis past his time o' coming in; and if ye'll wait till I strike a light, we may walk into his room, and I'll kindle ye a bit o' fire; for you tender lassies that live in grand houses, cau't bear the cold like us poor folks can, who be used to nothing better." And so saying, she fumbled out an old tinder box, and having with some difficulty cherished a spark into a flame-for her old and withered hands and feeble breath seemed chilled by the cold which she defied so man all that I see here would but supply a fresh motive for Moral Cowardice of Society. BY ORVILLE DEWEY. "If he could, Master Edward, I am minded that he'd Why is it, in fact, that the tone of morality in the high rather cry old shoes than gamble in the share market," | places of society, is so lax and so complaisant, but for quoth our friend Isaac, advancing into the room, deposit- want of the independant and indignant rebuke of socieing, with considerable care, his two bags of shoes in ty? There is reproach enough poured on the drunkentheir appropriate corner, and emptying, with equal read-ness, debauchery, and dishonesty of the poor man. The iness, divers rotten sticks, fir apples, and stumps of gorse, gathered during his day's travel-for apparently he had wended countryward—from the several pockets of his nondercript garments. "If these Stock Exchange gamblers could but tell the sore hearts they cause their good people who go to him can speak plainly, aye, very plainly, of his evil ways. Why is it, then, that fashionable vice is able to hold up his head, and sometime to occupy the front ranks of society? It is because respectable persons, of hesitating but uncompromising vir tue, keep it in countenance! It is because timid woman | only the first step which knowledge takes in subjugating | Island, her intrinsic worth will bear examination; and a stretches out her hand to a man whom she knows to be the elements to its dominion. But their resistance to close scrutiny will convince the most ungreatful of her the deadliest enemy to morality and of her sex, while mental light is mere silence, and partakes but little of scions that Nature has not given to her these outward she turns a cold eye upon the victims he has ruined. It those ridiculous displays of insulted dignity which burst attractions as the specious covering of a latent deformiyt. is because there is nobody to speak plainly in matters in vengeance from the honest stubbornness of the savage. With the advantages of a soil rightly adapted to all the like these. And do you think that society is ever to be The gradual influx of strangers (which such retrograd- purposes of agriculture; together with a variety of varegenerated or purified under the influences of these un- ing masses will ever look upon with a jealous scrutiny) luable mineral deposites,it must be allowed that the injust and pusillanimous compromises? I tell you never. will eventually brighten up the asperities of their gener- dustry of the people of this island has heretofore effectSo long as vice is suffered to be fashionable and respect- al character and give to their prominent traits a due pro- ed an extremely slow advancement. Yet, despite this able, so long as men are bold to condemn it only when portion and a certain usefulness. tardiness, it was not to be supposed that a place possessing it is clothed in rags, there will never be any radical imPainfully tardy-slow though steadfast-were those so many natural attractions, should lie dormant at a time provement. You may multiply temperance societies- stilly throes by which Intellect emerged from the dark-when the contagious influence of land speculations was you may pile up statute books of law against gamblingness which for a long time veiled in second chaos the extending itself from the lakes to the gulf, and clutchand dishonesty-but so long as the timid homages of destinies of this little spot of earth. But still it has grown ing in its embrace the remotest interests of our wide the fair and honored are paid to splendid iniquity, it will into importance, and as its opening energies are sum- spread country. be all in vain; so long will it be felt, that the voice of moned into action, be it our task to mark the history of the world is not against the sinners, but against the sin- its advancement. ner's garb so long every weapon of association, and every baton of office, will be but a missile feather against the levia than that is wallowing in the low marshes and stagnant pools of society. The Mirror. FRANCIS L. HAGADORN, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. NEW BRIGHTON, N. Y. FEBRUARY 2, 1839. wo were compelled to print a part of to-day's Mirror on the old type. THE PATHWAY BEFORE US. THE MIRROR reaches its third volume with an enlarged and still enlarging list of subscribers. Its legal advertising and other business having increased with its circulation, the proprietor feels a pleasure in recording so certain (and at the same time, so profitable) a testimony of the growing taste for letters which characterizes the present population of Staten Island. Prior to the commencement of the Mirror succcessive experiments in the way of periodicals had signally failed to draw from Richmond County an adequate support; it was therefore deemed advisable to commence a work unlike its predecessors-being devoted to literature rather than news, advocating no partizan interests and combatting no fixed principles. In this straight-forward and simple pathway we have met few obstacles and encountered no personal enmity. In our humble efforts we have labored to add another ray to that intellectual effulgence which is constantly spreading its esnignant influence, and must eventually banish mental darkness from the chambers of the mind. The past rage of a speculation is sometimes likened to a flood; but it was more similar to the fire of PromeAt the period above adverted to, when the clouds of theus, which gave animation to a mass of clay, and inwar lowered over the fates of the infant republic, we be-spired with life whatever of earth it touched. This rage held Staten Island offering her mite in due season to swell that tide of blood and treasure so freely flowing for the defence of that liberty which had filled with awe and admiration the wondering gaze of the civilized world —but which it must be confessed she had, in a former generation, contributed little to procure. From this time forward, therefore, may we date the accelerated progress of this county in all those excellencies which render society agreeable, and life worth the possession. was felt in the remotest hamlets of the west as well as in the Atlantic cities. It overcame the country not with the genial breath of a benign prosperity, but with the heat and aridity of the sirocco; carrying its consequences into the intricacies of society, like the sand of the desert which flies on the wings of the tempest and with the same breath bespreads the tesselated porch, or insinuates itself into the crevices of the fisher's hut. Thus Staten Island is not so much indebted to her Seated in the lap of an extensive plain, which stretch- fine location, as to the all-pervading influence of specues from the Newark mountains to the Heights of Never-lation, for that sudden advancement which has placed sink, the famed bay of New York, would boast but few charms but for the bold summits which frown in abrupt grandeur above the shores of Staten Island and form those landmarks of exceeding beauty which have earned for the American metropolis a portion of that fame which in former times belonged exclusively to Naples. her upon the present footing. Although it is not to be denied that her many natural advantages have enabled her to hold her new possessions, and have contributed much to characterize those embellishments thus added to her pristine beauty. and splendid villas rising on the former sites of rickety cabins and mere habitations-while good and broad roads are taking the place of those abominable by-ways for which this island has once been so proverbial—while Improvement is breathing its plastic influence upon every thing around us and excelsior' is vividly inscribed on every landmark of its progress, we must hope for the future, but act for the present; and we shall find that the story of our times will will be enough for our conceptions, without astounding ourselves with mathamatical demonstrations of futurity. The improved taste of a community genearally makes Morning, noon and night, the perennial beauties itself first known in architectural ornaments. It is proud which Nature has thrown around this island are con- of its acquisition and naturally endeavors to make that stantly flashing up to delight the gaze of those who love acquisition conspicuous, as a first step toward retaining the loveliness of Nature. When the early morning is possession of its new attainments. In this feature of folding up the dank vapors of the night, and the fleecy progression Staten Island is by no means deficient, and mists are coursing up the hill-sides to receive the golden now her acquired taste is seeking various other channels; offerings of Phoebus, the student of nature, strolling up- among which we are happy to notice the contour of a on the heights of Staten Island, may watch the sun ris- literary era. But we must refrain from a ing from his ocean bed, far beyond the outskirts of Long speculative extension of our present remarks, and satisIsland cheerfully commencing that diurnal task which fy ourselves with the certain knowledge of those images of time have successively imposed upon him.-provements which make themselvs known to our visual When the sun has progressed to the meridian, another organs. And while we see comfortable farm houses change of the day's scenic history presents before our shores a hundred steamers ruffling the bosom of the glassy bay; and other vessels in abundance spreading their white wings and skipping to and fro like the sea-gulls which sport around them, or perchance lying at anchor at the foot of Tompkins hill, as if reposing from their ocean toil in still recumbency. And when the day is waning from the rude peaks or the rounded hill-tops of this island the breast of the enraptured beholder will be fired with the glowing tints of our peculiar sunset. The several 'cities of the plain,' darting their spires inThe first settlers of this island-banished from their to the upper air, and spreading their continuous fields of homes by the heat of a frenzied rancor, which took its tiling far in the dim distance, present a host of glittering rise in fanatic zeal and unchristian persecution-were objects to reflect the dolphin fires of the expiring uay.forced to face the savage in his native home, to conciliate The bellied sails are tinged with ruddy beauty, and evehis favor or terrify him into compliance. The business ry wave which sparkles on the bay borrows the hue of occupying a new and untaxed soil-of clearing wood- of the surrounding splendor. The sunset view from lands, cutting ditches, and spreading nets-never can be New Brighton, as our gaze follows the course of the friendly to the speed of letters and the dissemination of wandering Kill Van Kuyl, rests upon the hills behind literary taste. The superiority of the invaders over the Elizabethtown, whence the lord of light smiles his last children of nature who fly before them, naturally satis-smiles upon the scene around him, and like an experienc- AT QUARANTINE, the floor or bridge of the emigrants' fies its possessors, and renders them careless of its culti-ed diver, proposes to plunge beyond our view, and come dock was broken through with the great weight of ice vation, until they become degraded nearly to the level of up at the other side of terra firma. floated upon it; damage from $600 to $800. The steamthose whom they supplant. In this condition they form But rich as may appear a superficial view of Staten | boat dock was much injured and all the wood on the It would be too gross a flattery should we commend the state of society which existed on this Island prior to the second war of independence. And indeed we might mention a much later period, but that we must select a conspicuous starting point wherefrom to mark the grad ual advancement. From the Philadelphia National Gazette. GREAT HURRICANE AND FRESHET. On Saturday last at about three o'clock A. M. a violent gale from the S. E. set in with the heavy rain which had fallen steadily since about nine o'clock on the previous evening. The wind continued to increase until 3 or 4 P. M., when it raged a perfect hurricane, and did considerable damage in and about the harbor. outer pier washed away. The water came up into the store of Mr. Root at the Quarantine gate and great quantitics of ice remain strewn over the wharf. On the north side of the island, the tide rose over the wharves at all the landings, but did very little damage, The steamboat Water Witch suspended her afternoon trips and the Samson also left off her middle trip in consequence of the severity of the gale. The Philadelphia steamboat Swan put in at New Brighton, and laid here till the storm was over. bank, and was instantly killed by the falling of the cross-rious reports are still thronging in, but we must selec On Avenue C, near 10th street, an unfinished three story house was completely demolished. At Allentown the mail carrier was drowned in at tempting to enter the town. Damage in the neighbor The Philadelphia and Baltimore Rail road has been irrupted by the rising of several small streams near Wilmington. Two bridges have been carried away, and the track otherwise broken. On Tenth street a row of six or seven three story hou-hood about $30,000. In the East River two or three sloops were sunk. hall duck. The schooner Tass, of Boston, loaded with copper from Porto Rico, came into the lower bay, without a pilot, during the afternoon, and drifted in such a manner that her crew were compelled to cut both of her masts down. After this she dragged her anchors, and finally stranded on this island, at the Great Kills, but she was towed off on Sunday afternoon by the steamboats Samson and Swan, and brought up to the city by them. lor's building, 91 Chatham street. Two houses in Whitehall street. The large building in Clinton street used by the Tobacco Inspector to re-pack tobacco in unroofed and otherwise much damaged. Row of houses on the corner of Thirteenth street and University Place had their roofs taken off and laid in the street. On 3d Avenue near 15th street a dwelling-house was unroofed and the family had barely escaped when one of the gable ends fell in. Dwelling-house corner of Second Avenue and Tenth street. The large brewery in WoosThe brig Susquehanna anchored with two anchors ter street, between Grand and Broome streets. On Exin the East River, was driven against pier No. 4, dam-change street, Broadway, Fulton street, Broad street, aging her bulwarks considerably, breaking a pile of the pier and carrying away a part of the wharfing. The brig Laurel put into the outer bay with her foremast cut away. Being without a pilot, the captain determined to drop anchor and endeavor to ride out the storm under bare poles. But she continued to drag her anchors at so fast a rate as to induce her crew to attach a cable to a large iron cage on deck and to cast it overboard. This held her until relieved by the Steamboat Samson on Sunday afternoon, but the officers and crew suffered greatly during the storm and the severe frost which ensued. The pilot boat Lafayette was the only one which did not succeed in running in before the tempest had reached its greatest violence. She came in at about four o'clock, with her larboard quarter stove in and her foresail torn to talters. Whitehall street and Maiden Lane, several stores part- From the Philadelphia National Gazette. The steam tow-boat Delaware arrived at the Point House, three miles below the city, on Monday evening, and landed the southern mail and Baltimore passengers. it was down on the Exchange books that the City Ice boat met fifty-six csnal boats, stacks of hay, &c. drifting down the Delaware on Monday. There are five or six breaches in the canal near Manayunk. The dams on Frankford creek were all destroyed and the buildings on the banks received more or less injury. Many persons have been thrown out of employment by the stoppage of the mills. Mr. M'Creedy's cotton factory at Norristown was very much injured-loss said to be ten thousand dollars.Two others belonging to Mr. Jamison were badly injured. The gates at the guard locks of the canal are gone, with six canal boats loaded with coal for N. York, and several belonging to this city. The bridge at Norristown is impassible; and the bridge six miles above is entirely demolished. Castle Garden bridge is damaged so much that it can. not be repaired. Two milliners in Division street lost Three men were drowned above Phoenixville by one their bow windows and contents. One of the small end of a house giving way and drifting away with them spires of Trinity Church fell and shattered one of the on it-one attempted to save his life by clinging to a tree, window sashes in its descent. At Fulton ferry a boat-but after remaining there some hours he became exhaustman and passenger were capsized, but not injured. At one time the tide reached to the second story windows on Washington street. Two or three hundred bales of cotton, with a large quantity of wood, lumber and other merchandize, were drifted down the bay and will be lost, The damage in New York is averaged at one million of dollars. At about five o'clock the wind subsided and the sun set very red. In 1723, a great storm and hurricane occurred in this The docks and piers at New York were more or less city, on the 29th July, that ruined the docks and did damaged along both sides of the city. A fore-and-aft schooner from Richmond, loaded with coal, was carried ashore with the ice half a mile from ed, and perished. A female in the part of the house left standing, was hauled on shore by a rope. Much other injury was done in the same neighborhood. The lock house on the canal at Coneshoken is entire ly gone, with a stable, &c. A marble mill damaged and two canal boats lost. The new bridge at Watson's Ford is entirely gone. About five hundred yards of the rail road was washed away; two aqueduct bridges across the Conoshcken canal, and the outlet locks entirely gone, and many breaks in the banks of the canal. Scott's much mischief and caused the city no inconsiderable ex-dam near Laurel Hill is gone, and it is reported that pense for repairs. the dam and bridge at Reading are also demolished. The stable, bake house, and a store belonging to Samuel M'Cana, containing five men, washed away; the men staid in it till it was washed against a tree. They then left it, and clung to the tree until daylight, when two men, named Benjamin Harry and Andrew Rogers, came with a boat and released them from their perilons situation. Another heavy gale of wind took place on the 5th of Stapleton, and afterwards drifted below the Narrows, Dec. 1818 from the S. W. that tore up and demolished the front of the Battery, and did considerable damage to the shipping. where she sunk in five fathoms water. No lives lost. The schooner Chesterfield of Hudson, of 125 tons burthen, was driven ashore at the Great Kills, on the south side of this island. She was heavily loaded with coal and flour, and being bilged, cannot be got off. Another schooner ashore at the Gt. Kills-condition unknown. A large brig and a fore-and aft schooner went ashore on this i-land near the Princes' bay light house. Con dition unknown. The schooner Alabama, with turpentine, from North Carolina, and the schooner D. M. Smith, with rice and cotton, went ashore on Squam beach. The latter is a perfect wreck. Cargo damaged. The large dismasted ship which was seen on Sunday about eight miles from Rockaway was towed up to the city on Tuesday morning by the U. States steamer Fulton. NEW YORK.—In the city, much damage was done in every direction, in the recountal of which, prostrated chimneys and signs are counted as of little consequence because of their frequency. Mr. J. F. S. Randolph was passing down Chatham street, on his way from the Butchers' and Drovers' The great hurricane of the 5th September, 1821, began from the S. E. about 3 P. M. and lasted 6 hours. It was the tide of ebb when the storm commenced, but the water rose rapidly above high water mark, and did great injury to the wharves and shipping, and to build ings, chimneys &c. It hauled round to the south and south-west, and soon finished the destruction of the Battery that the former December gale had injured; many vessels were driven ashore on the Quarantine dock and other places, but the United States ship of war Franklin, of eighty-four guns, rode out the gale in safety in the Hudson River. At Eaton, on Friday evening it commenced raining, and come down without any intermission until last evening continued to rise until 11 o'clock. The ice broke loose and came down in a mass. It has taken away about 75 feet of the embankment of the Pennsylvania Canal. The water rose 15 feet above low water mark. The damage on the Bushkills is incalculable. AT ALBANY, on Wednesday,the water was still two feet deep on South Market st. opposite the Eagle hotel PENNSYLVANIA. At Philadelphia, the rain abated at and the people were passing the streets on skates. The about three P. M. on Saturday, but the cold was ex-ice was still slowly descending the Hudson, but the extreme, and the wind which succeeded very violent.-cessive cold by this time must have again closed the rivThe tide is said to have been two feet higher than dur-er. The steamboat North America was torn from her ing the great freshet of February 21, 1822. The two moorings and sunk; and many suppose that she canbridges at Gray's Ferry were carried away, thus cut- not be repaired. A large number of canal boats passed ting off the communication with Baltimore. The Fair-nown the river on Saturday, one of which, having two mount water works have received very little damage, but men on board, lost one who attempted to jump ashore as were stopped in consequence of the esplanade being so the boat neared a pier. The damage in Albany is esti inundated as to prevent the necessary inspection. Va, mated at one million of dollars. |