CHESTER LODGE, No. 138.-This Lodge was instituted at the village of Chester, Orange county, on the 31st of March, 1845, by D. D. G. M. John R. Wiltsie, of the district of Orange. The following officers were elected and installed to serve the present quarter, viz: Samuel M. Smith, N. G.; Samuel M. Kniffen, V. G.; Benjamin Y. Dorlon, Secretary; and Anthony Ketchem, Treas. Four candidates were initiated, and a number of propositions presented. The Deputy says, "I think from the zeal they manifest, that their progress will be onward, and I trust upward, in the great cause of Odd Fellowship." PROCEEDINGS OF THE GRAND LODGE.-The R. W. Grand Lodge of the State of New York, held a special session on Tuesday evening, the 22d ult., at the rooms in National Hall, Canal street, and granted three charters for subordinate Lodges, viz: Neptune Lodge, No. 152, to be located at Tompkinsville, (Quarantine,) Richmond county, S. I. Montague Lodge, No. 153, to be located at Brooklyn, Kings county. Camden Lodge, No. 154, to be located at Camden, Oneida county. Died, In this city, on the 16th April, Mrs. E. J. CLEMSHIRE, aged 22 years and 7 months, wife of Brother John Clemshire, of Phoenix Lodge, No. 41. Married, On the 18th of March, by the Rev. D. H. Hamilton, of Trumansburg, Brother ERASTUS T. KING, of City Philanthropic Lodge, No. 5, and En hakkore Encampment, No. 5, Albany, and Miss ELIZABETH J., youngest daughter of Burnet Cook, Esq., of Cover, Seneca county. All thanks to our Brother and his bride for the symbol of the sweets of married life with which they have so liberally supplied us; and while we are laying it away as near our heart as physiological and anatomical construction will permit, we assure them our wishes for their happiness, present and future, are more than proportionate to the gigantic slice received. In Utica, on the 21st April, by the Rev. Mr. Leeds, Brother Wm. J. BLACKALL, of this city, an Miss HANNAH ANN THORN, of the former place. It was an adage of the ancients that misfortunes never came singly; the same will, we believe, apply equally well to blessings. We have been compelled to il lustrate the science of geology in the disposition of the numerous mountains of the good things incidental to matrimonial arrangements, that have fallen to our share; that is to say the various strata have been piled away, layer upon layer, in the most approved geological style. We heartily thank Bro. Blackall for the substantial tokens he has sent us of his interest in the " progress of the order." On the 23th April, by the Rev. Wm. B. Sprague, Bro. DENMAN CLARK, M. D., of Union Lodge, No. 8, and Miss ANN JENNETTE HERMANS, all of this city. On Tuesday afternoon, April 29, in Trinity Church, by the Rev. Mr. Selkirk, Bro. EUGENE KISSAM, P. G. of Samaritan Lodge, No. 93, and Miss LOUISA M. PHELPS, daughter of H. R. Phelps, Esq., all of this city. "The cry is still they come," or rather go. Another bountiful slice of manna accompanied the above, together with a long, round, dark looking" something," which we should judge from " outward appearance," contained something rather suspicious. If our prayers avail aught, Bro. Kissam and Lady will experience a long life of the most uninterrupted bliss. TERMS OF THE GAVEL.-Single copies per annum $1. Any person forwarding us the names of five subscribers, (enclosing $5) will be entitled to the sixth copy gratis. All payments must be made invariably in advance. Address, JOHN TANNER, Publisher of the Gavel, 58 State Street, Albany, N. Y. Postmasters are authorized to frank letters containing remittances. We can still furnish back numbers of the Gavel to subscribers. RECORD OF THE ORDER FOR ALBANY. VAN BUREN LOCKROW, DDGM. Ex-HAKKORE ENCAMPMENT, No. 5.-John Tanner, CP; V. B. Lockrow, HP; C. Brooks, SW; C. Holt, S; A. Heyer Brown, T; R. H. Pruyn, JW. ALBANY CITY DEGREE LODGE, No. 11.-H. Goodno, NG; Wm. D. Russell, VG; Jetur Gardner, PG; Lansing Van Wie, Sec; Stephen Van Schaack, Treas. EXCELSIOR DEGREE LODGE, NO. 15.-Andrew Halnon, NG; Wm. Rennie, ANG; Cornelius Glen, DANG; Eugene Kissam, VG; Thos W. I. Groves, PG ; Matthew Bray, See; S. S. Barnes, Treasurer. CITY PHILANTHROPIC LODGE, NO. 5.-Henry Hainer, NG; Wm. Quested, VG; Geo. N. Goodno, QS; F. Ingmire, PS; Wm. B. Scott, Treasurer. GERMAN COLONIAL LODGE, No. 16-Julius W. Paepke, NG; Jacob Newborg, VG; Veist Traub, Secretary; Charles Wollensak, Treasurer. FIREMENS LODGE, No. 19.-Samuel S. Barnes, NG; Samuel H. Johnson, VG; John Cooper, QS; PG Wm Rennie, PS; PG C. Glen, Treasurer. AMERICAN LODGE, No. 32.-Henry Quackenboss, NG; H. M. Hyde, VG; W. S. McCulloch, QS; Thos. D. Knower, PS; T. H. Knower, Treasurer. PHENIX LODGE, No. 41.-Henry C. Haskell, NG ; A. B. Brower, VG; Edw'd A. Jordon, QS; Peter B. Leddy, PS; William Blackall, Treasurer. HOPE LODGE, No. 3.-Le Grand Smith, NG.; E. H. Bender, VG.; J. S. Bell, QS.; G. W. Eell, PS.; J. W. Harcourt, Treasurer. SAMARITAN LODGE, No. 93.-D. S. Davis, NG; J. W. Brooks, VG; C. Mc. Loughlin, Secretary; J. A. Tremerc, Treasurer; G. W. Hobbs, PS. AGENTS Ffor the gAVEL. NEW YORK.-A. Smith, 197 River st., Troy-Nathaniel J. Cady, HudsonN. Drullard, Schenectady-L. W. Hall & Co. and James Kinny, Syracuse-J. Anthony, Cohoes-Geo. A. Wilkins, Ballston Spa-Geo. Andrews, Saratoga-J. H. Pomeroy, Utica-H. S. Hover, Flushing, L. I.-J H. Van Benthuysen, 262 State street, Lansingburgh-P. T. Heartt 2, Waterford-D. C. McCullum, RochesterJ. B. Devoe, New York city--Benj. H. Ackley, Canandaigua-Jon. F. Morgan, Keeseville. OHIO.-Robinson & Jones, Cincinnati-J. Cranmer, P. M. Lancaster-J. V. Campbell, Eaton-A. A. Selover, Cleveland-Wilson T. Drake, Middletown. MASSACHUSETTS.-Edward R. Rich, Boston-Geo. S. Wyllie, Ware Village -Geo. Ashworth, Lowell-John B. Goodnow, Charlestown. PENNSYLVANIA.-Colou & Adriance, Philadelphia-Wm. Fox, Pottsville— Alfred Craigh, Washington. KENTUCKY.-H. J. Brown, Lancaster-Wm. R. Walker, Cairo. CANADA-David Milligan, Montreal-J. H. Hardie, 30 John street, Quebec. CONNECTICUT.-Horatio N. Hawkins, Derby. TENNESSEE-W. H. Chaplain, Memphis. "How hard is the fate," exclaimed the sorrowing Dante: and so say all who have ever rode the winged horse, if we except, perhaps, Bellerophon and Minerva; and their success was but a poor piece of revenge upon Praetus the king's son-in-law; and what better fate has Dante, or any other disciple of the Muses, a right to expect? for what is Pegasus but a donkey, which I am sure has broken all the muses necks long ago, if like me they have been dashed over hill and vale, through wolf-dens and thunder-roads, from the pastures of Helicon to the watering-places of Hippocrene. Sixteen summers have gone the way of all the earth since the first passage of much importance in my life in a poetical way. It was a bright June morning-a gay merry morning-when a thousand birds sung from the tree-tops to the dance of the sunbeams, and a voice of laughter was in the heavens, over the earth, and on the sea-it was that morning when the servant announced Miss Thompson at the door. Miss Thompson? Miss Thompson? oh, I do remember having met Miss at Mrs. McFingall's party, and at the Springs also last summer. Well, show Miss Thompson up-I remember her as the beautiful little witch, who monopolized all the eyes, and ears, and hearts, at Mrs. McFingall's party. Miss Thompson entered my parlor with the sweetest naivete imaginable-soft, languishing, beautiful as Hero of Sestos, who had swam the Hellespont to me, and not I to her, as did mighty Leander of Abydos. Miss Thompson had the largest eyes and the bluest eyes in the world-sweet eyes, full of love, and fire, and pleasure, where the mischiefs and the graces danced together, and held their revelry of heaven. Every thing about Miss Thompson was like her eyes-neck, lips, and chin, all still the same sacrament of love and beauty. I believe you are a poet?" 66 Mr. "I a poet! Miss Thompson, no surely" "Oh yes, yes you are a poet, Pa says you are." "Well, I am then, I will be a poet if" "You see I have an album, Mr. and you will dedicate it, won't you? something good you know I want." "Yes, I shall be most happy to have it in my power to do Miss Thompson a favor." Oh, would you? and so is Miss Thompson much obliged." This beautiful piece of mischief threw a smile at me and departed. When I was interrupted I was engaged in translating a chapter of prose from the German of Schiller, and as a thing of course, my head was full of metaphysics, philosophy, etc., too plainly a sorry preparation for writing the popular nonsense for a lady's album. But there was no help for it; I was committed, and Miss Thompson was to return at five in the afternoon. Spurred on by this latter thought, I instantly hoisted the flood-gates of rhyme, and lo! hexameters, pentameters, and ambics were chasing over my pages whole troops of anapestics, trocharics, dythyriambics, and all kinds of ics and meters there were ever prest into the service of rhyme since Chaucer was a child. I madly seized a pen and plunged in among the flying ics and ers, pressing them into form and comeliness with prodigious energy, and as I thought with consummate skill. Thus I drove on for two hours and more, sweating profusely, puffing and blowing like a blacksmith's bellows, while my heart all the time kept up a tremendous thumping and clattering against my side as though it would break out of prison there. I had written seven pages-seven pages of dedication and poetry! At five precisely to a second, Miss Thompson came, and it did seem her eyes would devour the whole album, so greedy were they to eat up my poetry. First she counted-one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, "Oh, good gracious, Mr. who ever heard of seven pages of poetry in an albam before ?" She began to read and her eyes began to grow dim; her counte nance kept falling, falling, falling, until a pouting disappointment covered her whole face. "Oh, my conscience, Mr. there is not a word about love or friendship, or any thing else in the whole piece! It is all I don't know what-philosophy I guess.' "All philosophy! No, Miss Thompson, sure" but sure enough so it was. O, good gracious! O, my conscience! The mad muses had seized upon the ideas fresh in my mind from Schiller's philosophy and woven that into a prodigious poem on the dignity of human nature and the abstract rights of individuals. "Now if I shouldn't be ashamed, Mr. to write such a sermon as that in a lady's album! Why didn't you write about love or something else, you know?" 66 0 yes, I will-excuse me Miss Thompson-I will write about love if you will only” "No, but you can't write about love-I believe your heart is as cold as marble, Mr. 66 No, Miss Thompson-it was-not now-but-” "What?" Your eyes, Miss Thompson-" Well, now, if you don't provoke-what about my eyes though?" "Have shot me through the heart, Miss Thompson. "O fie! that's your story. But see what you will write next time in my album; then I will see if you tell the truth now; and if I find you do I'll" "What? what? what? speak do, Miss Thompson !" "No I shan't speak neither, and I'll have you hanged if you guess, you see if I don't." Miss Thompson was to call the next morning for her album. And now for some poetry that has love in it. I will dip my pen in the rainbow-I will sprinkle the dust of the wings of the butterfly over the lines-I will steal Apollo's harp, and squeeze the last tone of music out of it-I will rifle the whole creation of all its coral, alabaster, pearl and cherry for necks, noses, lips and eye-brows-I will steep rose-leaves in the hues of Iris-moonlight, kisses, tulips, violets, poetry, the Muses and Miss Thompson! So Pegasus dashed on with me, on, on, from the top of Pernassus over the dreadful heights, braying and curvetting through the airy defiles for a whole hour. After an hour of such hazzard I succeeded in taming the refractory horse, and forcing the Muses into my service. The following is an exact copy of the poetry: son. My heart you say is hard and cold It may be so in life's wild whirl, Yet must I climb th'ambitious heights Nor do I ask thee to bestow, Thy smiles or kisses on me now, Or lay thy hand upon thy brow- Oh! let me gaze on thy dear form, Love's glance they say the coldest warms, The next morning came, and with the morning came Miss ThompThe poetry she thought beautiful, but declared she did not believe that I was a mite more than half in earnest. And shall I ever forget how beautiful she looked as she reclined carelessly on her left foot and her other delicate toe patted the carpet, while her matchless little hand was caressing the album? Her eyes, sparkling with the softest passion, were lingering in mine, while the corners of her mouth were lifted with a ravishingly mischievous smile that seemed to have spread itself through all her features, from the peeping curves of her lilly bosom, to the stainless beauty of her snow-white brow. What pen can describe the magic of her words as she said so playfully, "What's to pay?" "Only a kiss, Miss Thompson." "A kiss! no you don't mean a kiss." "But yes, I do mean a kiss, and I'm sure your whole face is full of them this minute." |