i ene

iseheeee ARATE CNC ett ence ee

 

 

 

‘ him and his past.

Fesruary 28, 1874.]

BCGELLES AND. BEAUX.

ic

 

 

afternoon sunlight was shut out by the closed
Venetian blinds; a slight breeze stole in at in-
tervals, making the heated atmosphere de-
liciously cool.

Beatrix was looking better, but her face had
not the bright, unclouded look which it had
worn when she returned from France three
months ago.
light in her blue eyes, a graver curve of the
lips, a more thoughtful expression on her brow.
These were the traces left by the ‘‘ tempest”
which had passed over her life; yet she looked
better than before the tempest came.

Into the shady room came Georgie, who has-
tened to Beatrix’s side.

“Beattie,” she said, very gravely, ‘‘ Lord
Roth is in the library with papa.”

A scarlet flush rose in Beatrix’s face; her
eyes were bent upon her hands, which moved
restlessly. She had not seen Lord Roth since
that golden day under the cliff. He had re-
turned from London only yesterday.

“And, Beattie, papa knows all now—the
reason why you acted as you did before you
went away,” Georgie said, slowly and tenderly.
Had she not promised to be tender to Beatrix?

Still no answer. The crimson had dyed even
the downcast brow.

Georgie bent and kissed it.

“T wish you all happiness, my darling sister,”
she whispered, and went away.

Beatrix knew what was coming—what she
had missed in all the bright summer days lately
gone. This was the love she had thought of,
but never before realized. It was coming to
her now—‘t was at the threshold, and she
waited. Her heart beat, her pulses throbbed
quicker. The perfect lips were parted with the
quick-drawn breath.

The moment came. He was at her side. No
word was spoken—no word was needed. She
rose and met him; the tender, loving arms em-
braced and held her close to his heart—his own
—his bride. He bent his stately head, and
kissed a golden tress that lay loose upon his
breast. Then he lifted the beautiful face—in
silence still—and sealed the compact made in
that same room more than twenty years before.

 

There were two weddings in the calm but
glewing autumnal month of October. None
could tell which of the two sister brides looked
the lovelier—Georgie, with a damask color in
her olive cheeks and her hazel eyes lit with
happiness, or Beatrix, upon whose golden head
the orange wreath lay so gracefully.

Adrian Rutherford’s face was graver than it
was wont to be as he stood by his two fair
daughters to give them away. His thoughts
were busy pondering that old time, nearly one-
and-twenty years ago, when he had, laughingly,
and in very idleness of happiness, made the
compact which lay at the bottom of Lord
Roth’s sin. If he had known then all that he
knew now he was very sure that compact would
never have been made. Rather would he have
been content to leave his little daughter’s future
fate in Heaven’s hands, without plan or promise
on his own part.

A little of the gravity spread to the faces of
the two brides as each thought, in the midst of
her happiness, of the brave-hearted, true friend
whom they would never see more,

 

CHAPTER XXVIII.
CONCLUSION.

Ow the stately terrace of Rothcourt Hall
happy children play, knowing nothing of the
sin and bitterness and remorse that had lived
within the walls of the home now so bright and
beautiful, once so sad and solemn. Not the
heir to the old title, but the second of Beatrix’s
sons is called Oliver.

Lord Roth has not relinquished the pursuit
he so dearly loved and excelled in. At times
beautiful pictures find their way into the pub-
lic exhibitions, where they usually find ready
purchasers; for the simple subjects he chooses
become, under his masterly treatment, both
grand and touching. And Florence Rutherford
has not lost her kind teacher, for Beatrix’s hus-
band dearly loves and is very proud of his
wife’s little sister, who bids fair to equal her
master in genius.

Mrs. Flaherty kept the charge intrusted to
her by Oliver Kenn well and truly. Rachel
was not the same fierce-tempered woman now
that she had been before the sin in which she
had acted a part was revealed, but a penitent,
quiet, yet cheerful person. She lived a year or
more after that eventful summer, Beatrix and
her husband taking care that she lacked for no-
thing that wealth could procure to ease her last
suffering months on earth.

Philip Haughton never knew of his cousin’s
sin. He was drowned while boating, within a
fortnight of Lord Roth’s funeral. As he died
unmarried, young Lord Roth, as next of kin,
inherited his property. .

 

Far away, in the grand and vast forest-land
of Brazil, dwells a man who often, when the
toil and heat are over, travels in thought over
the great Western ocean which lies between
As he lies with his face up-
turned to the starry heavens, things around
and about him fade away. It is not the odor-
ous air of the tropical night that is floating
about him, but the glory of a summer morning
in June, sweet with the breath of myriads of
roses. It is not the dash of the waves on the
shore that he is listening to, but the sweet music
of a woman’s voice, whispering soft words in
his ear; and heis holding her close—close to his
breast, in bliss too deep for utterance.

Now it is twilight, and soft melodies float in
his ears—music so sweet, so sad, that he could
listen to it forever; and a face shines upon him
through the shadows—the face of a lovely wo-
man in misty white. Then comes another

There was a deeper, sadder.

 

memory—eyes weeping, and a voice whispering
to him the words that are to part them. He
hears them still, and oh, how plainly! He lifts
the bowed form, and presses his lips to hers—
‘for the last time.” And with this thought a
great pain surges through his desolate breast,
and a silent longing gleams from his mournful
eyes, while he stretches his arms out full of
passionate despair.

And now he hears again the great billows
that come tossing and seething toward him,
and he sees the wide waters that lie between
him and that old life and those vanished scenes.

THE END.

 

MEMORIES OF HOME.

BY LUKE GARLAND.

 

 

When the dusky evening shadows
Cast o’er earth their vail of night,
Gleaming o’er the verdant meadows,

Shone the flickering evening light—

Coming from the home of childhood,
Gleaming from the dear old room!
Twinkling through the leafy wildwood,

Drew my weary footsteps home,

There my mother, waiting, hoping,
Listened for the sound of feet;

Then, through gloomy shadows groping,
Hurried forth her boy to greet.

Far away, I still am dreaming
Of the happy days gone by,
Memories, ong departed, streaming
O’er me as the moments fly.

That bright home among the meadows
-Rests with me where’er I roam;

In this world of light anc. shadows,
What is earth without a home!

 

Remarkable Women.
MRS. JOHN JAY.

 

BY MRS. E, F. ELLET.

 

HE wives of eminent statesmen whose

names are connected with the early his-
tory of the Republic, are entitled to remem-
brance, especially when they themselves in-
fluence society as its leaders.

Miss Sarah Livingston, in 1774, was married
to John Jay, a young lawyer of a family that
intermarried with the Bayards, Van Cortlandts,
and other prominent families of the province.
He was then about thirty years of age, and in
the beginning of his public career; being called
to take part in the first movements of that re-
volution which was to result in the birth of a
new Republic. The private life of both the
young pair was shaped and controlled by pub-
lic events. While Mr. Jay was absorbed by his
duties as member of the New York Provincial
Congress, and of the Committee of Safety, his
youthful wife passed the greater part of her
time at the residence of her father, Governor
Livingston, at Elizabethtown, with occasional
visits to her husband’s parents at their country
place at Rye, in New York. The separation
was painful to her, and in one of her letters to
her Irusband, she says :

‘“‘Had you consulted me, as some men have
their wives about public measures, I should not
have been Roman matron enough to have given
you so entirely to the public.”

Nevertheless, during the most gloomy and
anxious periods of the. war, Mrs, Jay bore her
part with cheerfulness in the trials and priva-
tions many had to bear. She aided to brighten
the gloom as much as possible. In February,
1779, she described a grand dinner and fire-
works at General Knox’s headquarters, and in
March announced “four approaching marri-
ages in Cousin Livingston’s family;” showing
that the war interrupted but slightly the old
order of events. In the following October,
Mrs. Jay accompanied her husband, he having
been appointed Minister to Spain. They en-
countered a terrific storm at sea, dismasting the
vessel; and narrowly escaped capture from a
fleet of English ships; reaching Madrid after
many adventures. Mrs. Jay was greatly ad-
mired, being one of the most beautiful women
of her time, with an extremely brilliant com-
plexion. Some wagers were laid at home—her
sister Kitty Livingston wrote—that she would
not paint, nor go to plays on Sundays. Mrs.
Jay replied, ‘You are certainly entitled to
the stake for I have not used any false coloring,
nor have I amused myself with plays nor any
other diversions on Sunday.”

Mrs. Morris, in a letter to Mrs. Jay, gives
an anecdote of the dueling then in fashion:
“Two Frenchmen were to stand at a certain
distance, and, marching up, were to fire when
they pleased. One fired and missed, the other
reserving his fire until he had placed his pistol
on his antagonist’s forehead, who had just time
to say: ‘Ah, mon Dieu! pardonner moi,’ at the
same time bowing, while the pistol went off,
and did no other mischief than singeing a few
of his hairs.”

The Chevalier de la Luzerne, who lost the
bet about Mrs. Jay’s painting, presented Kitty
Livingston with a handsome dress cap.

Mrs. Janet Montgomery, in a letter to Mrs.
Mary Warren, says of Mrs. Jay: ‘She is one
of the most worthy women I know; has a great
fund of knowledge, and makes use of most
charming language: added to this, she is very
handsome, which will secure her a welcome with
the unthinking, while her understanding will
gain her the hearts of the most worthy. Her
manners will do honor to our countrywomen,
and I really believe- will please even at the
court of Madrid.”

Lady Strangford, nee Philipse, was a cousin
of Mrs. Jay’s, and was intimate with her. Al-
though her father was a Tory, and his estate at
Philipsburgh had been confiscated, the daughter
remained devoted to America, ‘‘ My own dear

 

 

country ”—she wrote—‘‘ can never be forgotten
by me.”

Mr. Jay: was associated with Dr. Franklin,
Mr. Adams, and Mr. Laurens, in a commission
to negotiate a peace; and his presence was de-
sired in Paris. Mrs, Jay accompanied him,
and they lived for some time at Passy with
Dr. Franklin, in a mansion now occupied as a
pension for girls. In November, 1783, they
removed to another at Chaillot. The French
capital was then the center of interest to
Europe and the world. The historic memories
of the period connected with the peace negotia-
tions, were full of interest. Mrs. Jay’s inti-
mate association with the negotiators, who met
frequently at her apartments, made her almost
a participant. The illness of Dr. Franklin
threw the chief responsibility upon Mr. Jay;
and his sternness and resolution, backed by the
approval of Adams and Franklin, gave strength
to the independent position he assumed for the
United States. They obtained magnificent boun-
daries for the Infant Republic, newly recog-
nized as a sovereign nation. Mrs, Jay wrote
to her husband, after the signing of the provi-
sional articles: ‘‘ I long to embrace you now as
a deliverer of our country, as well as an af-
fectionate and tender husband.”

For two years Mrs. Jay lived in a society
that presented a brilliant contrast to the trials
and hardships to which she had been subjected
by the war at home, as well as to her more re-
tired life during their residence at Madrid. The
pride and splendor of Paris were unconscious
of the impending Revolution. Marie Antoi-
nette, then inher 29th year, justified by her
grace and beauty the magnificent apostrophe of
Burke. Mrs. Jay thus described her in a letter
to Mrs. Robert Morris: ‘‘She -is so handsome,
and her manners are so engaging, that, forget-
ful of Republican principles, I was ready,
while in her presence, to declare her born to be
a queen.’ There are, however, many traits in
her character worthy of imitation, even by Re-
publicans,”

The fashions in dress of that time were ex-
tremely variable. The women wore the hair
fantastically raised in a pyramid; the high
edifice crowned with flowers, like a garden.
The costumes were usually plain; the ‘‘ robes a
Anglaise” being in favor, and “ the Sultana,”
made of silk of a light texture. The robe, if
trimmed with the same or with gauze, was
“dress;” if untrimmed, was undress, and worn
with an apron. Fans of eight or ten sous were
almost the only ones in use.

The Marquis and Marchioness de la Fayette
were almost the first to congratulate Mrs. Jay
upon her arrival in Paris. The two circles of
society where she was entirely at home were
found in the hotels of La Fayette and Frank-
lin. If the circle she met at the Hotel de
Noailles was marked by its aristocracy of rank,
that which surrounded the venerable’ philoso-
pher at Passy, was no less celebrated for happi-
ly blending the choicest and most opposite ele-
ments of the world of learning, wit and fashion.
Franklin was continually surrounded by savans,
statesmen and sprightly women, eager to pay
homage to “‘ the Sage,” as Mirabeau afterward
apostrophized him—‘‘ whom two worlds alike
claimed, and for whom the history of science
and the history of empires were disputing.”
The philosopher who had snatched the lightning
from heaven and the scepter from tyrants, was
assigned the first place by historians among
the celebrities with whom Paris teemed.

There was Mesmer, with his fascinating doc-
trine of the influence of planets, and the mys-
terious harmony of ideas and forms; Lavoisier,
exciting wonder by his application of chemis-
try; Buffon, the naturalist; Bailly, the astro-
nomer; Legendre, the mathematician; and
Darcet, the chemist. There was Guilottin, who
recommended the death machine for the pur-
pose of alleviating the horrors of capital pun-
ishment; Cagliostro, with his filters, talismans
and amulets; Montgolfier, with his balloons;
and Jean Gaspar Lavater, the youthful pastor
of Zurich, deducing traits of character from
the physiognomy. The painters of the period
included Greuze, Vernet, Doyen, Menageot,
David and Le Brun; the musicians, Mozart,
Gretry, Delaysae and Gluck. There was a
brilliant coterie of intimate friends, for whose
amusement Dr. Franklin kept a printing press
in his house, to circulate his ‘‘ bagatelles.”

One evening, when Mr. Jay was absent, Dr.
Franklin produced several pieces of steel, play-
fully telling Mrs. Jay one of them represented
her husband at Chaillot, attracted first by one
then by another. But he could not make her
jealous. Mr. Jay, like his magnets, was ever
true to the pole.

The first ascent of Montgolfier’s balloon, at
Paris, created a great sensation. ‘

In July, 1784, Mrs. Jay, with her husband
and family, returned to New York, after an
absence of over four yearsand ahalf. Her
long absence at European courts, and her re-
cent association with the brilliant circles of the
French capital, enabled her to fill with ease
the place she was now to occupy, and to per-
form its graceful duties in a manner becoming
the dignity of the republic to whose fortunes
she had been so devoted. It was her task to
preside with elegance over the entertainments
given by her husband as Secretary of Foreign
Affairs; and the names on her dinner and sup-
per list for 1787 and 1788, with the memoranda
afforded by private correspondence, help to
furnish a picture interesting in a historic view,
of the social circles of New York during its
brief existence as the National Capital under
the Articles of Confederation, This society
presented strikingly the characteristics derived
from its blended ancestry and colonial history ;
but its tone was eminently patriotic, combining
love of country with the culture and refinement
which gave dignity to wealth, and respectabil-

 

ity tofashion. In the bar and pulpits of New

York lights shone that have never been eclipsed
in after years. The medical profession, too,
was ably represented.

To the older families of New York with
whom the Jays were intimate, were now added,
by the presence first of the Congress under the
Confederation, and then under the Constitu-
tion, some of the most eminent of the states-
men and Generals of “the old Thirteen,” who
had helped to vindicate the independence, and
lay deep the foundation of the nation, It
would require too much space to enumerate
their names. These gentlemen were in many
cases accompanied by their families, represent-
ing in part the higher circles of New England,
Philadelphia, Baltimore, and the South. To
these was added the small circle of diplomatists
accredited to the United States, and European
travelers, attracted by the rising greatness of
the young Republic. The grace, beauty and
charming manners of many women then in socie-
ty, were dwelt upon in letters of the day. Mrs.
Jay and her cousins, the daughters of Lord
Sterling, were prominent, and entertained ex-
tensively. Mrs. Jay gave a dinner almost
every week, besides one to the corps diplo-
matique every Tuesday. Mr. Jay was de-
scribed as plain in his manners, but kind, affec-
tionate,and attentive, with benevolence stamped
on every feature. Mrs.’ Jay dressed showily,
but had very pleasing manners. Her dinners
exhibited European taste. At a diplomatic
dinner in May, 1788, she had twenty-three dis-
tinguished guests.

The new Government, under the National
Constitution, was inaugurated in the spring of
1789, and Vice-President Adams arrived after
a triumphal progress from Boston; being con-
ducted to the house of John Jay by the civil
dignitaries and military officers. In March,
General Washington arrived by the bay, at-
tended by the heads of departments. New
York was illuminated in the evening, and
there was a display of fireworks, Mrs. Jay
was an eminent leader in society under
the social administration of Martha Washing-
ton, In the spring of 1784, she suffered a trial
in the separation of her husband, who was sent
as special Ambassador to England. In one of
her letters, she signs herself: ‘‘ Your wife till
death, and after that a ministering spirit.”
She suffered agonies of apprehension during a
storm while her husband and son were at sea.
The poplars were blown down. She wrote:
‘‘ Frank has raised the poplars. When I droop,
who shall raise me, if the wide ocean should
swallow up my husband and child?”

During her husband’s absence, Mrs. Jay as-
sumed the chief charge of their domestic af-
fairs. Her letters were full, practical and ex-
act, giving particulars of moneys paid in and
reinvested in the National Bank and stocks,
with quotations of their rise, the sale of lands,
the progress of improvements on the estate, etc.
What lady of our day, who has been admired
as a belle and leader in fashionable society,
would show so much practical knowledge of
business, and such care and energetic applica-
tion to the family affairs and interests? Is not
the union of such capabilities with the highest
feminine graces and accomplishments, enough
to invest their possessor with the character of a
remarkable woman?

The advocates of ‘‘ Woman’s Rights” may
here see an example of a woman exercising
masculine functions with force and dignity, in
attending to business, with all the charming
sweetness and taste of a polished lady, and the
devotion of an affectionate wife and mother.

She was accustomed to ride a great deal on
horseback, and had young horses broken for her,

In May, 1795, Mr, Jay returned from Eng-
land, and was elected Governor of New York.
In his first term, the seat of government was
removed to Albany. Mrs. Jay’s health had be-
come delicate, but in 1797 she permanently as-
sumed the charge of her husband’s house, and
presided over the reunions. of the descendants
of the Dutch Huguenots and English colonists.
Their stately manors were then miles in extent,
and invested with almost baronial privileges.
Thus the social features had something of the
dignity and grace usually associated with an-
cient aristocracy.

Mr. Jay retired from public life in 1801, de-
clining a reappointment as Chief Justice. He
retired to his farm at Bedford, where his
daughter Anne presided, till the improvements
of the old dwelling-house were completed, and
her mother, whose health had failed, was able
to join the family. She was happy in this do-
mestic retirement, surrounded by her children,
but did not enjoy it long, She died on the 28th
of May, 1802,

Mrs. Jay’s character exhibits itself, like a
delicate painting, in various lights, amid try-
ing circumstances and marked reverses, To
singular delicacy of feeling and sensibility of
organization, she added a strength of mind
based on Christian faith and principle. These
enabled her to face dangers without fear, and
to endure hardships and disappointments with-
out a murmur. Her experience illustrates the
early days of the Republic, disclosing the tem-
per of the men ahd women whose virtue secur-
ed the independence of their country, and
whose characters and accomplishments sustain-
ed its dignity at home and at the courts of.
Europe. To Sarah Livingston Jay belonged
not only beauty, elegance and accomplishments,
but qualities far more estimable and lasting.
The charm of her manners and the vivacity of
her conversation, with her high birth and posi-
tion won general admiration; but she displayed

‘something better than these in her steadfast

devotion to her country amid trial and hard-
ship. In the most brilliant circles she presery-
ed her gentleness and simplicity. In all the
relations of daughter, sister, wife and mother,
she fulfilled her duties with Christian fidelity
and womanly affection.