« ZurückWeiter »
A ROMAN CATHOLIC STORY.
AUTHOR OF “SCENES IN THE WEST INDIES ;"
“ ERNALD, OR THE MARTYR OF THE ALPS;"
"The strong foundations of mine ancient faith
Sink from beneath me; whereon shall I lean ?"
AND ALL BOOKSELLERS.
“ J'examine la foiblesse de mon esprit, et je reconnois que ma raison ne doit pas être ma seule lumière. J'examine mon cæur, et je reconnois que la morale Chrétienne est conforme à ses besoins. J'embrasse avec joie une religion aussi aimable que respectable."
4. T. & J. ROCHE, PRINTERS, 25, HOXTON-SQUARE, LONDON.
A ROMAN CATHOLIC STORY:
“Come to the hearth-stone of thy earlier days;
Come to the ark, like the o'erwearied dove;
Brother, come home!”
The goodly vessel had cast anchor in the beautiful bay of Saint Anne, on the north side of the island of Jamaica, and groups
eager spectators, some of them merchants, others friends of anticipated passengers, stood on the beach, waiting until the boats should land their cargo. Many pushed off in their canoes,
impatient for tidings from old England, and others strained their eyes for a glimpse of some beloved one whom ocean had long severed from them. The day was hot and sultry. The sun had nearly gained his meridian altitude, and poured down his fervid rays with an intensity only known in tropical climates. Yet the scene was one of surpassing loveliness. The calm waters of the ample crescent that formed the bay, sparkling in the gorgeous sunlight, contrasted brightly with the dense masses of vegetation that clad the steeps and summits of the far-stretching bills, and that waved luxuriantly even to the very verge of the golden sands. The refreshing sea-breeze swept gently over the waters, and stirred the thick foliage of the woods, imparting life and freshness to their beauty ; whilst, far away in the distance, the blue mountain-peak rose high in the pure and transparent atmosphere. · The principal part of the town extended along the beach, but here and there, through the leafy embowering, was caught a glimpse of some stately mansion, or picturesque dwelling, the abode perhaps of a wealthy proprietor, or English resident, situated away from the bustle and heat of the coast, yet overlooking it and the broad waters of the ocean.
An elegant equipage had left one of these rural retreats, and was proceeding at a rapid pace down the shady and winding road that led the shore. It contained a father and his two daughters, who were hastening to greet a beloved son and brother, just arrived, after long absence, in his native isle. They drove to the water's edge, and Mr. Travers instantly stepped into a canoe, and was on his way to the vessel, leaving his daughters in their carriage until his return,
There did not seem much difference in the age of the sisters, as they sat side by side gazing on the bright waters, but there was an evident dissimilarity of character. The dark expressive eye of Rosa spoke of an energy and sprightliness as yet untamed either by care, or the relaxing influence of the climate. There was something in the high smooth forehead that betokened intellectual superiority, as well as a love of command, though education might have done much in drawing out the faculties in a legitimate direction. Her dark complexion contrasted strikingly with that of Ernestine, whose sunny ringlets shaded a countenance of fair and surpassing beauty, characterized by a sweetness at once winning and touching. If one seemed born to rule by the exercise of a powerful mind, the other seemed no less des tined by her depth of strong affection to rejoice in a being to whom she could cling, and in whom she might depend.
“ Now do be calm, dear Rosa,” said Ernestine, in her own gentle tone ; “I fear this excitement will injure you."
“ Calm, Ernestine! and our brother so near; it is impossible! Why it is six long years since